Blood and Silver Ch. Five

Chapter Five

Beautiful Freaks

Mar was shaving when he heard the door slam, causing him to cut himself. He sighed and put his hand over the cut. He inhaled sharply as his skin healed itself at its accelerated rate. Being a Sanguimagus, he did not need to cast any spells to perform any sort of magic, and nor did Cass for that matter. Even though she was only a Praecantatress, she was an exceptionally powerful one.

Cass. The calls he received were one thing, but hearing the door slam—something that he had no tolerance for—sparked his worry for the young woman. He tucked his hair behind his ear and listened. She was crying. His first assumption was that she was disrespected in some form or another based on the calls he received from Pamela and a number of her customers, but decided it was best if he saw Cass’ side of it before he did anything rash.

After rinsing off his face, he headed to her room. The state of everything leading to her bedroom spelled out her misery. The air was freezing, harsh rainfall was coming from the ceiling, the lamps looked like they were about to burst—which Mar hoped they wouldn’t do—and there were…miscellaneous Lego blocks flying all over the place. Mar sighed. “Oh, Cassandra…”

When he reached her door, he hesitated before knocking. He tapped it with his walking stick. Electricity crackled. Of course, she didn’t want any company so she electrified the door. He took a deep breath. “Cass, sweetheart?”

“What?” she answered, muffled. She must have been speaking into her pillow.

“Can you please let me in?”

He heard her grumble and the lock on the door clicked and it swung open. The moment he stepped inside, he wished he hadn’t. As he stepped beyond the threshold, he fell. Not downward, but upward and met the ceiling painfully.

“Was that necessary, Cassandra?” he asked, still on the ceiling.

Cass looked up from her pillow. “Oh, I’m sorry Marcellus, was the fact that I put an electrifying jinx on my door not enough to send the message that I don’t want to talk?”

Mar sighed as he stood up and folded his arms. “Alright, if I have to speak to you from the ceiling, I will. Slamming doors, freezing temperatures, indoor rain, Lego blocks flying all over the places, calls from Pamela and everyone you and I know saying that you burst out of the restaurant before your food was even served…what went down today?”

Cass rolled her eyes. “I met a man today.”

“Oh, Pamela told me that you were with a young and handsome man.”

Cass snickered. “Yes, he was.”

“Tell me about this man.”

“Well the first thing I’ll tell you was that he was a gentleman, and he is a Snypes.”

“A Snypes?” repeated Mar, enthralled.

“Oh, he was nothing like his sister, Priscilla,” said Cass. “I assumed that she was a bi—” Mar scowled. “Sorry, I assumed that she was a handful based on how you complained about her the other night, but I don’t think I’ve met anyone so…haughty. Her brother—Liam is his name—he was…he was a gentleman.”

Mar cocked his head as he positioned himself close to her bed. “A gentleman?” Cass nodded. “Then why did you run off?”

Tears poured from Cass’ eyes. “I didn’t want him to have to see my hideous face! Yes, Mar, I don’t know what happened, but something about him just made me lose my grip on the magic hiding my scars.”

If he wasn’t trapped on the ceiling, he would have taken her into his arms. “Sweetheart, if he was a gentleman, then why be concerned about what he might think of your scars?”

Cass moaned sorrowfully. “You’re not a woman, Mar; looks aren’t as important to you!”

“Actually, I take a certain amount of pride in my appearance, my dear,” he said, crossing his arms. “Also after three hundred years you’d assume that I’d developed a certain amount of empathy for women.”

“Whatever. Besides, even if I didn’t have these scars who would be attracted to me?”

“Hey, that’s not fair to say.”

“I read Shelley, Verne, Dickinson, Dickens, Bronte sisters, Austin, Tennyson, Augustine, Kipling, Poe, Shakespeare, Sarah Williams, Ho—”

“Some would say that you have an exquisite taste for classic literature.”

“I build with Legos!”

“Some would call that creativity.”

“I chose the violin over the piano!”

“Where’s the harm in that?”

“Everybody is attracted to pianists!”

“I was born before everyone even knew what a piano was; violinists are as talented today as they were when I was a child. So what’s your point?”

“I’m an unlovable freak!” Cass shrieked.

“Cassandra how many times do I have to tell you that being a freak is not a bad thing?” Cass did not answer. “You are not unlovable, Cassandra Candidius. Yes, it was barbaric for your parents to mutilate you the way they did, but you are not hideous. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be. Now will you please let me down?” He fell from the ceiling and almost did not land on his feet. He sat down with her.

“Now, Cass, I know you’re lacking in confidence, but I know that someday, maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday you will meet the perfect man who will see you for who you truly are.” She stared at him. “A beautiful, talented, and unique woman.” She flung her arms around him. He chuckled and held her close to him.

“How do you do that, Marcellus?” she asked.

“Do what, darling?”

“Make me feel better when I’m this low?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for over ten years, my child.” Cass giggled as he parted from her with his hands still on her shoulders. “Now I imagine you must be hungry.”

Cass nodded awkwardly.

“Good, because, Pamela took the trouble personally drop off your order not five minutes before you got back.”

“How does she do that?” asked Cass, smiling for the first time.

“I know not, but let’s be thankful that she wasn’t angry.” An awkward silence followed as they both knew just what Pamela was capable of when she was in a foul mood.

“Now how about we go downstairs and you can tell me a little bit more about this Liam Snypes, hmm?”

Cass smiled. “Okay, just don’t make fun of me.”

“No, of course not.”

Mar listened intently as Cass told him about her day and the young man she met. They decided to eat in the dining room because of the massive window overlooked the lake and dark tree-covered valley beyond. What really sparked his interest was hearing how he was disinherited by his parents, seemingly because of his religious choices, amongst other reasons that he didn’t want to share. He was impressed that Cass remembered her manners to not push the subject. True to her words earlier, this Liam sounded like a true gentleman and not the megalomaniac that his sister Priscilla was, but when she got to the point where she had lost her grip on the magic hiding her scars—something he knew she normally did not struggle with—she burst into tears again.

“Was he repulsed?” he had to ask.

“No, Mar, he was…concerned,” replied Cass. “He asked me what was wrong with my face and he tried to touch my cheek.”

“It sounds like he meant no offense.”

“But I didn’t want to scare him off.”

“So instead you ran off without an explanation.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” shouted Cass. “Reveal my hideous face to him?”

“Or tell him that you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Cass screamed and pounded the table with her fists, causing Mar’s glass to shatter, a few light bulbs to burst, and a large crack in the window next to them. Even though there was blood all over his hand and shirt from the glass, Mar did not move. Why was she so upset about this particular boy possibly seeing her scars?

“What are you trying do?” she asked, a little softer.

“I’m not trying to accomplish anything, my dear,” replied Mar. “I just don’t want you thinking yourself as ugly.”

“You’ve been trying to get that into my head since I was seven; today was the closest I ever came to a date and I blew it all because of my hideous face!”

“Has anybody ever actually told you that you have a hideous face—besides those children way back when?”

Cass faltered a little. Though it had been years, he knew it still haunted her. The laughs, the taunts, her scars that had not fully healed. “Point taken, but I’m still a freak.”

“So am I; but I’m a rarer bird than you are.”

“Rare or not, you’re beautiful.”

“Not quite like you, my child,” Mar suddenly slammed his fists down on the table. “What kind of father am I? I almost forgot that I have a dress for you.”

“You do?” Cass was astonished.

“I assumed that you had not stopped at Queen Victoria’s so I bought you a dress,” Mar clarified. “Close your eyes.”

Cass smiled as she did as he requested. He tapped his walking stick thrice on the ground and a large box flew into the the room, landing on the table in front of his daughter with a small thud.

“Open your eyes.”

She opened her eyes and saw what was in front of her.  Her eyes widened with delight as she seemed to realize what the box was for.

“Take a look, my Cassandra.”