Everything had to be perfect – that was the order Count Chastain had given to his servants when he returned from town. The manor was a flurry of activity; The maids bustled about cleaning the guest rooms and replacing the flowers in each vase. Count Chastain's office door was open when the head maid, Kenna, knocked. "Enter," He said with a little glance towards the door.
Kenna took small steps into the room and bowed her head in greeting. She was a bigger woman with short orange hair underneath her maid's cap and freckles dotting her sunkissed skin. Her bright green eyes were the color of sprouting leaves.
"Milord, all the guest rooms have been dusted and fitted with new sheets. Dinner will be on time for your guest. Might Milord need anything else?"
"That will be all," Count Chastain said with a little smile, "At least, for now. He is not staying the night."
"As you say, Milord. With your approval, I'll send some of the girls home for the day so that the night-shifters can get to work."
"Approved." He looked back over the paperwork he was reading with his half-circle glasses, a long golden chain attached to the ends of them so that he could take them off and let them dangle. He couldn't hide his excitement, it had been about a week since he ran into Lucien in the market and now their schedules had finally aligned. He signed his name a few times with a long, black quill, and then stood, setting the paperwork aside so it could dry while he took a walk down the hallway. The windows were all tinted glass so that the sun would not bother his sensitive skin. Many of them bore the arms of Chastain, his family name: Two crossed swords with ruby hilts and a green serpent wrapped around them, fangs on display. Count Chastain's eyes traveled down the hallway past the bustling maids and as he came into the dining room, he wondered if he should change.
He was wearing a long-sleeved black blouse that was tucked into his high-waisted black pants and some green boots. He had told Lucien not to dress up for his sake, but he felt the need to impress his friend. He entered into his bedroom and threw the closet doors open, rifling through his various shades of green and black and gold. He pulled out an overshirt that had gold decals down its front and faux fur around the neck. It would do. He slid it on over his blouse and changed his shoes to match, pulling the flowing sleeves out of the ends of his jacket.
He heard the carriage before the maid called out to him, "Sir Lucien has arrived, Lord Chastain!"
He felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest at the idea that his friend had arrived so quickly. He looked himself over one last time, making sure every thread was in place. Once that was done, he sauntered down the front room's dark marbled stairs, holding his arms out wide.
"Father Lucien, welcome!" He called out, watching the blonde adjust his own sleeves. He was all smiles, though he was careful not to show his teeth too much.
"Count Chastain, it's my honor to be here." Lucien answered him with a meek little bow of his head. His eyes looked over his guest. Lucien was wearing a simple coat and top and pants, but his hair had been braided into a little crown on the back of his head. He thought it was very cute.
"Please, this way to the dining hall." He said while walking to the left, "Your spot at the table is waiting for you."
"Your manor is so large," Lucien said with a smile, "I felt like I was walking into a castle."
"Really?" Count Chastain inquired, "This is about the size of the manor I grew up in." He held the door for Lucien and as they both walked in, the priest's eyes widened. On the long oak dinner table was a feast, still hot and fresh. A ham was cut into thick slices, as well as a caramel-brown roasted chicken. Potatoes with butter and herbs sat beside the ham, and a hunk of cheese was melted perfectly onto fresh bread.
"Help yourself," Count Chastain said, taking his seat at the head of the table.
Lucien didn't know where to start. It all looked appetizing. But nonetheless he sat beside his friend and reached for the napkin that lay on his plate. Count Chastain's maids gave him a heaping portion of everything on the table. Lucien put his hands together under the table to utter a soft prayer in thanks. Count Chastain watched as the butlers served Lucien and himself. Though he would not eat, he took great joy from watching his friend dig in.
Lucien's eyes widened when he took a bite of the ham, it was cooked to perfection. It wasn't overly salty like the ham he was used to eating, and the subtle flavor of the honey it was glazed in made it have a sweet aftertaste.
"How is it, Father?" Asked the count with a little smile, as though he already knew the answer.
"It's amazing… Do you eat like this every day?" The priest answered, taking another forkful of ham into his mouth.
"Only for special occasions," Count Chastain answered honestly, "Such as new friendships. I implore you to indulge, Father. You're quite thin."
Lucien blushed. "I'm not that skinny, am I?"
"I could fit one arm around your waist, Father." Count Chastain teased, enjoying the way that the blonde's face heated up.
"Count Chastain!" Lucien objected with a laugh, "Don't be too improper now."
"My apologies."
Silence fell between them as they ate, and eventually he could not eat even a crumb more of food.
"I am so full…" Lucien murmured to himself, "Goodness gracious, I have not eaten like that in such a long time."
"You must let me feed you more often then, Father." Count Chastain stated as the butlers and maids took their dinnerware. "I'll send you home with the leftovers."
"You don't need to –"
"I want to."
Lucien felt his face blush pink from Michel's sincerity. He was grateful for his generosity, but how to show it? He reached over the table and took Michel's left hand, squeezing it softly.
"Thank you, Count Chastain." He said meekly, and watched as his friend's face turned soft pink. He glanced at his right hand again, curiosity sparkled in his eyes. But Count Chastain did not address it, rather, he withdrew his hand and stood up from the table.
"Thank you, Count Chastain." He said meekly, and watched as his friend's face turned soft pink. He glanced at his right hand again, curiosity sparkled in his eyes. But Count Chastain did not address it, rather, he withdrew his hand and stood up from the table.
"If you've had your fill, then I'll let you go home. Unless you wish to spend the night at the manor, of course?"
Lucien mulled it over. It was not yet the day of the Lord, and he could certainly use a change of pace …
"Well, if you are offering. Though I must return home before Sunday; I am going to officiate a wedding and I have to prepare the pews."
"A wedding!" Count Chastain perked up, and when Lucien stood, Kenna brought him his jacket from earlier.
"I'll have you home before then, not to worry. And I think we may have something in your size to wear to bed."
"Thank you, Lord Chastain." Lucien bowed his head a little, straightening up. His coat was draped over his arm.
"Have I not told you to call me Michel?" The Count asked with a little smile.
Lucien smiled back before he was escorted off to his room. Count Chastain watched him go, and wondered how he'd made friends with such a kindhearted man. It was certainly different than his usual tastes, but something about Lucien was just so charming. He stood by the window of his office for a while, listening to the hustle and bustle, and wondered who was getting married. Morning would come before either of them knew it.
But for now, it was time to rest.