The Dark Beast's Love

We waited for a while before someone finally opened the door to the house that belonged to the Wallaby family. The woman that opened was short and wrinkled, with a kind smile but suspicious eyes as she studied me and my brother. It took me a while to realise that this was Hector Wallaby's mother, the relevance in their resembling noses and thin lips. When she must have realised who we were and why we were here, her eyes widened, and she finally spoke. "Could you possibly be Miss Liliana?" She asked carefully, scanning me from head to toe.

"Yes, ma'am,” I replied as kindly as I could but she only narrowed her eyes at me.

"Are you sure about that?" Her voice was far more sceptical now, and she pinned me down with her gaze. "I was told that she was uncontrolled, a little bit of a savage according to others."

Before I could even figure out how to respond to the accusation, my brother took a step forward and entered the conversation.

"I can assure you that she's none of that," My brother spoke calmly. "And I am sad to hear that you would believe such rumours."

Mrs Wallaby's ears turned pink as she realised that she'd just openly offended me in front of my brother.

"O-of c-course not," She stammered as she looked at the floor. "I would never... Why don't you come in?"

My brother turned to me this time. "It seems like it is my time to head out, dear sister. Do try to behave." I threw Varius a burning glare before he turned back to Mrs Wallaby. "Thank you and your husband for your hospitality. I'll come back later this evening to take my sister home."

"Of course sir. Your sister is in good hands."Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

And with that, my brother was gone and I was left alone with Mrs Wallaby, whose shoulders were still stumped from embarrassment. I considered telling her that I took no offence by her words but quickly realised that she'd probably prefer it if it wasn't mentioned at all.

As expected their house was bigger than our own, nowhere near the mansions that the upper class spent their days in but still better than the cottage that was my family's home. Mrs Wallaby led me through the hall and into the living room that also served as a dining room where three people were already waiting, all male and only one of them recognisable.

"She's here," The wife chirped, too bright in comparison to her tone before. The three men turned their attention to me and I quickly lowered my head to hide the fact that I was biting my tongue, preventing me from accidentally speaking first.

"It's an honour to have you here," The oldest man said, probably Mr Wallaby himself. He was nothing like Hector, his frame tall and his muscle lean but strong for his age, the third person was more his son than Hector could ever be, with the same determined eyes and glowing attitude that their youngest lacked.

"Thank you for inviting me to your home," I said in the sweetest way I possibly could.

"Is this her?" The stranger asked, looking between his brother who only stared at the floor and me in disbelief. "I thought you said she was a low-lifer?"

"She is from the lower class," His father responded. "But that is nothing to judge, Christoff. She's still a guest in our house and you shall treat her as such."

"Yes father," Christoff responded but his hungry eyes still looked at me as if I was some kind of prey.

"Hector, aren't you going to welcome our guest?" His mother asked and finally, Hector looked up, a blush spreading on his cheeks as our eyes met.

"Greetings Miss Liliana," He said carefully. "You look lovely today." I then realised that he was the only one in the room that had seen what I usually looked like, and probably knew that all this was prepared for him. "You are too kind," I managed to force out.

"Why don't Hector show you around?" His mother suggested beside me, her voice startling me from my careful inspection of the one I was supposed to marry. "Meanwhile I'll prepare dinner."

Hector, after hearing his father clearing his throat in warning, offered his hand and led me away from the family. Not really bothering to reply to the mocking goodbye his brother sent our way. I pitied Hector as he showed me the house, not only wasn't it enough to explore until dinner was prepared but it was rather obvious that he was nervous and that his brother's taunts didn't really help his situation. I was almost afraid that he'd die from a heart attack the second a mouse from the dark corners sneezed.

"So that was about it," Hector said finally. "Is there something else you would like to see or do?"

I tried to come up with something, just so that we could avoid the awkward silence that would happen if I didn't, but it wasn't an easy task. The house wasn't big and Hector held no interests I could ask questions about, not like his brother and his hunting, nor his father and his devoted love for literature.

"Do you have a garden perhaps?" I then asked. "You haven't taken me there."

Hector's eyes widened slightly but he nodded anyway, eagerly taking us away from the empty place where we'd just been. None from the lower class had gardens, there was a house and then there was the space around it, sometimes occupied by other people's houses or sometimes just places for old barns or an endless forest. I had heard many ladies speaking about the rich gardens, the ones with perfectly arranged flowers and bushes cut into all kinds of shapes and sizes suitable for the aesthetic of the living, but most would die before they even got the chance to lay a foot on a garden as beautiful as the ones in their dreams.

The family Wallaby's garden wasn't as beautiful as the ladies described, but it was still a garden with a few growing flowers and a tree by the end of it all.

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"It's not much," Hector said from behind me. "Mainly grass and a tree."

"What kind of flowers are they?" I asked, hoping that at least the flower could lead to a decent conversation, otherwise this month of courting would be harder than I expected.

"Uh, I don't know," Hector admitted, shame rising on his face. "They're my mother's. I know the roses, but that is about that."

"Oh roses," I said, desperate for something to hold onto. "They are loved by many. Do you have a favourite flower, Hector?"

The olive branch I thought would ease Hector's stiffness, only made him widen his eyes and stutter in embarrassment.

"I-I'm not g-good at flower un... unfortunately," Hector forced out, and then when he saw my expecting gaze, he took a moment to gain confidence before continuing. "Do you have one Miss Liliana?"

I was so relieved that this wouldn't be a one-sided conversation. "Purple Asters," I replied. "They would always grow close to where I lived and sometimes there were places in the forest full of them."

I stopped abruptly when I realised that I'd just revealed that I spent time in the forest, but Hector didn't seem to notice.

"Oh," He said thoughtfully. "I'm not a great fan of the forest honestly. There is too much unevenness in the woods and wildness lurking behind shadows." He said as if there weren't enough reasons to why I couldn't marry him.

"Well, what places do you enjoy then, Mr Wallaby," I asked out of curiosity and as an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Well..." He said slowly. "I like te kschten..." The last words were nothing more than mumblings.

"I'm sorry," I said, watching as the blood turned his entire face red.

"The kitchen," He said again, still low, but enough for me to catch.

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"Oh," I said, taken back by the surprising response, but quickly collected myself when I saw that he was about to shy away. "Cooking or baking? Or just watching your mother?"

I felt a pang of guilt when I saw the surprise in his eyes. Even if Hector wasn't someone for me, there was no doubt that he was just a case of a soft heart in a world that required him to have a brave one. I tried to comfort myself with the hopes that someone else would marry him, someone as shy as him.

"Baking," Hector shrugged. "I rarely do it but I loved it as a child."

"Really, tell me more about it? What did you bake?"

Hector was eyeing me suspiciously, but I couldn't determine whether it was because of my too-joyful tone or if it was because he'd been laughed at so many times that he expected me to do the same.

"Mainly pastries," He finally revealed when he'd come to the conclusion that I wasn't mocking him.

He was about to continue when his eyes suddenly widened in fear and he took three steps away from me, a finger pointed at my left shoulder.

"Watch out," He said from a distance, his voice squeaky and hand trembling.

I looked down to see a red ladybug on my shoulder, crawling on my dress in the belief that the colourful material belonged to the pedals of a flower.

"Oh, it's just a ladybug," I said as I took it in my hand. "They're harmless."

But when I tried to show it to Hector he let out a high-pitched shriek and swatted away my hand, startling both the ladybug who took off and me in the process.

"Don't come near me with it, they can carry diseases," Hector was still breathing heavily and shaking badly.

"I assure you," I tried. "They are harmle..."

"No!" He interrupted me and then took my hand. "Let's go inside before more come to plague us."

A sigh escaped my lips as I allowed him to drag me inside.