Fly Away
Part 3
Selecting the most valuable jewels from the case with the "R" embossed into the lid, Noir returned the case to the safe in Zidler's office and stowed the gems in a secret pocket of his jacket. With the safe secured and concealed once again by the hideous painting, Ray in his guise as Noir slipped out of the main building towards the huge elephant-shaped structure in the courtyard. He'd heard rumors about this place – how only the wealthiest of patrons ever saw the inside of this monstrosity. He'd also heard that the blond was being kept there in preparation for the auction, now only a day away.
There was only one entrance to the elephant and the guard was barely awake. Ray simply bypassed him by scaling the outside and entering by way of the open windows.
The blond was asleep at the small writing desk, the candle he'd been using almost burned down to its' holder. Scattered across the desk were half a dozen crumpled pieces of stationery and the contents of a small, overturned jewel chest – a dozen amethysts.
Reaching over, Ray picked up one of the stones and studied it. It was the size of his thumbnail and nicely cut even if it wasn't the most valuable of gems. Reassured by the blond's soft snores, he moved closer and tried to read what was written on the only uncrumpled stationery left on the desk. It held a formal greeting to the young man's mother, but nothing else.
How did one inform their parent that they're about to be whored out? They certainly didn't cover that in any of Ray's classes. But then, the Rocheforts were a much older line than the Courlands, and aristocrats had never had problems selling their children for political and financial advantage. With a surge of anger on the man's behalf, Ray snatched up the gems closest to him and shoved them in the pocket with the gems he'd taken from Zidler's safe. He'd be damned if he let the blond send everything to his mother and keep nothing for his future.
The blond shifted suddenly in his sleep and almost fell off the chair. With a huff of annoyance, Ray lifted him, ready to muffle him should the movement wake him. It did, but before Florian could make a sound, Ray covered the singer's mouth with his own. The blond struggled wildly for several moments before calming, his hands moving to pull Ray closer.
"What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly once they separated. His eyes were curious but not afraid as he regarded the man carrying him. He didn't protest as Ray transported him to the large bed and settled him gently on the left side where the pillows were piled high.
"You shouldn't be here," Florian told him, keeping his voice low so it wouldn't carry outside and alert the guard.
"Neither should you." Even as the words left his mouth, Ray couldn't imagine where they were coming from. "You could leave with me. Now."
"Leave? But…" His eyes narrowed. "Why would you want me to do that? At least Romwell is paying."
"Yes, you idiot. He's paying to despoil you and your dear employer is going to take every bit of that money and you'll have nothing to show for your sacrifice. You think those pathetic amethysts will ensure your mother's future or your own?"
"No." The blond's chin was set in a stubborn line. "But if Azura wants me badly enough to offer Harry jewels enough to make the man speechless, then surely there are others who will pay as well."
"Pay for what? A pretty blond whore? How long do you think that will last? A month? A year if you're lucky. There'll be another pretty boy along to catch their interest soon enough and you'll be entertaining gentlemen in dark alleys for pennies. How will you help your mother then?"
"I'm strong. I'm smart. I'll find other work."
"What respectable business will hire a fallen aristocrat turned whore? If you're lucky, you'll be someone's kept boy, just waiting for the missus to find out or your owner's interest to wane." He leaned in close to the blond and spoke the words in his face. "Want to know what will happen if you're not lucky?"
"No!" The blond was trembling. "Why are you doing this? What do you want? You could be the very person you're warning me about."
"Or I could be someone who wants to help you." He backed up a little and bowed. "Count Courland at your service. It's Marquis du Rochefort, is it not?"
"No." Florian shook his head slowly, sadly. "It is Florian Rochefort now, Count Courland. A common man with no family ties."
"It's not that easy to cast off your lineage. Come, won't you…"
Voices in the courtyard interrupted Ray and he swore softly before hurrying to the window and looking out cautiously.
"I'm telling you, I have my orders." A short, bespeckled man was shouting up at the guard. He was easily visible in the pre-dawn light and Ray realized he'd stayed much longer than he had intended. There was no way he'd get the blond out of here now.
"It's Azura's valet," Florian whispered into Ray's ear. "I'm to have fittings today for my… ‘bridal attire'." The blond said the last bitterly, but then continued quickly. "You can't be seen here. But how…"
"The window. I'll be fine. But I'll be back for you tonight. Be ready. I promise you, from one aristocrat to another, I will not abuse your trust."
Florian studied him hard for a long moment before nodding. "Come tonight at three. I'll be packed and waiting. Now go! They're on the stairs." Florian watched as Ray easily slipped out and away. He turned away from the window just as the door opened.
"You're up then. Good. Good. Master Romwell's arranged a full day for you and we've got to get started." Toulouse, the valet, hurried around the room, taking note of everything. Florian hurried to gather the jewels and the scattered notes, tossing the latter in the trash.
"Well, get dressed. You can't travel in your night clothes." The valet looked at the few outfits hanging in the closet and made a face as he selected one. "Dreadful. You'll have to be dressed properly once we reach the house. You can't let the Master see you in such rags. Well, hurry up!"
Overwhelmed, Florian gathered up the garments and slipped into the bathroom to dress. He could hear the valet complain to the guard about the dreadful conditions that the master's new charge endured while living in such a place. "An elephant indeed!" The small man was indignant and Florian couldn't help but laugh - he sounded just like Florian's mother.
Emerging from the bathroom fully dressed, with teeth cleaned and hair brushed, Florian felt a bit less like an object on display. He nodded to his guard and followed Toulouse downstairs to the waiting carriage. He didn't notice the two sets of eyes watching from two very different vantage points.
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It was a cruel joke, Solomon was convinced of that. He'd been up three nights straight and still he couldn't resolve the problems with the third act. He needed something daring, something to make the audience sit on the edge of their seats in anticipation. He tossed down the paper in disgust and went to the window to stare morosely out at the pre-dawn sky. He was ready for a good sulk but unexpected movement drove all thoughts of self-pity out of his head.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the dark figure descend the elephant. Scanning the grounds, he saw the carriage with the distinctive "R" emblazoned on the side for Romwell.
Now wasn't this an interesting little tidbit about innocent little Florian. Perhaps Monsieur Zidler would like an update on the nocturnal activities of his precious golden boy.
Yes. There just might be a way for Solomon to get what he wanted after all.
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