Chapter Eighth
I stood at the head of the long table, feeling the coldness of the marble beneath my resting palms. "Good morning," Adrian's tongue uttered the words, but my voice came out slightly shaky.
At that moment, the movement of the spoons stopped completely. Sebastian dug his sharp black eyes into my face as if trying to penetrate my skull, while Diana stared at me in bewilderment, her blonde strands fluttering slowly with the morning breeze.
"Are you my son Adrian... or have you been replaced?" Diana asked in a calm and terrifying tone.
I felt my heart drop into my gut; blood froze in my veins and my pupils dilated. Does she know? Does she have radars in her green eyes? I stood there like a wax statue, unable to move a tongue as heavy as a stone.
Diana turned toward Sebastian and said seriously: "I think our real son is somewhere, Sebastian... we must call the police!"
A hysterical terror overtook me; would the police come to arrest me on a charge of "stealing a body"? But Sebastian interrupted my thoughts with his deep voice: "What is it, Adrian? Did you wake up at this time... or have you just returned from your night out?"
My chest heaved a sigh of relief; it was just a rebuke for his reckless lifestyle. "No... I slept in my room," I said, trying to regain my composure.
"Are you sick?" Diana asked, tilting her head in suspicion. "No," I replied curtly. She muttered in bewilderment: "Strange... really strange."
"Won't you sit?" Sebastian said, gesturing toward the table that looked like a royal feast overflowing with colors and scents.
I pulled out a chair and sat at a far end from them, but Diana objected immediately: "That is not your seat!"
My shoulders stiffened; where is his damn seat? "I liked this chair today," I said with forced coldness.
She ignored me sharply and nodded to the maid, who began filling my plate with varieties I hadn't even seen in my dreams.
With the first bite, I felt a deliciousness that numbed my senses, and I rushed to eat with an unusual greed until I emptied the plate completely.
Suddenly... I felt something soft and warm touching my leg from below.
I jumped from my place in terror, pushing the chair back so it made a sharp screech that shattered the silence of the place.
I looked down, and a cat appeared, white as milk, with blue eyes like the clarity of the sea.
"What is wrong with you, Adrian?" Diana asked, her eyes narrowing as she watched me.
"Nothing... this cat just surprised me," I said while trying to calm my pulse. I leaned down and carried it in my hands; its fur was as soft as silk.
I began to stroke its ears spontaneously: "Hello, beautiful one... do you like this, handsome? Shall I continue?" I pressed it to my shoulder with a natural tenderness and smiled at it.
I raised my head, only to find Sebastian and Diana's faces had turned into solid statues of pure bewilderment.
A deathly silence prevailed, and I felt a coldness coursing through my fingers; I had committed a fatal mistake... from their features, it seemed that the real "Adrian" never stroked cats.
The smile faded from my face gradually as I saw Diana's features grow more rigid. Her voice spoke, choked with suspicion: "Adrian... are you sure you are okay?"
"Yes," I answered dryly, while I felt drops of cold sweat starting to sneak from my temples.
"You hate cats! And you hate (Max) specifically to the point that you cannot stand him near you... and he hates you too!" Diana said, pointing her finger toward the white mass in my arms.
"Really?" The word escaped my lips unconsciously, and I felt my tongue grow heavy as if it were a piece of lead.
Diana clapped her hands together, her voice rising in bewilderment: "What on earth is happening?"
Ideas crowded in my head like raging waves, and I began searching for a lifebuoy, any lie to get me out of this siege, so I said stammering: "I think... I think we fell in love with each other."
As soon as Adrian's tongue uttered this ridiculous sentence, I felt an overwhelming desire to slap myself. "You fell in love?!" Diana replied, her eyebrows rising until they almost disappeared under her blonde bangs.
"Yes... I read an article about cats," I continued with a delirium lacking any logic, as I looked away from Sebastian's sharp gazes that were tearing me apart, "they were saying that hatred might turn suddenly... you know... spiritual energy, it changes from negative to..."
I stopped suddenly; for the silence that hung over the table was heavier than could be endured. Sebastian was looking at me as if I were an alien creature that had just landed with its flying saucer over his garden.
"Are you drunk, Adrian?" Sebastian asked in a deep voice dripping with doubt, "or have you started taking drugs?"
I felt my cheeks burning. "Well... I have to go now," I said as I turned quickly, trying to escape with my huge body from this suffocating situation.
"Adrian!" Diana shouted behind me. I stiffened in my place and turned slowly: "Yes?"
"Are you going to take (Max) with you?" She pointed to my chest.
I looked down and realized that I was still squeezing the poor cat in my arms.
"Oh... Max... yes, I will put him here, I forgot." And as soon as I leaned down to put him on the grass, a sharp protest move came from him, and he began scratching with his claws into my luxurious trousers, climbing my body again to cling to my shirt.
The scene of "great love" between "Adrian" and his arch-enemy "Max" before the eyes of the stunned parents looked like an absurd play.
"I think I am still asleep... maybe this is just a dream," Diana muttered, rubbing her forehead in loss.
"Can I take him?" I asked eagerly, trying to end the show before they discovered more. "To where?" Diana asked in surrender. "With me... to my room."
She replied, shaking her head: "Since you have fallen in love... yes, you can take him, you cat-hater."
I carried Max and pressed him to my chest forcefully, and turned, walking with quick steps, my heart pounding war drums behind my ribs; I survived this time, but what is coming will not be this easy.
I rushed inside the marble lobby, the whispering of the servants following my back like the buzzing of bees; their gazes were fixed on (Max) lying in my arms as if he were a spoiled child, something that seems never to have happened in the history of this palace.
Once I closed the room door behind me, I leaned against it and let out a long sigh, feeling my broad chest vibrate with it.
"This is hell itself..." I muttered as I looked at the soaring ceiling of the room.
How will I play the role of a man whose very schedule I do not know? Does he work? Where does he spend his nights? Every corner in this place made me feel that I was walking over a minefield.
I raised (Max) in the air, so his small face was facing my eyes. "Why did that idiot hate you?" I asked him in wonder, "How could he resist this beauty?" The cat tilted its head, then turned its face away from me with an aristocratic coldness.
I laughed lightly: "Oh... you don't want to talk about him? Well, we won't."
I brought him close to my face and whispered sincerely: "You know? I am not Adrian... maybe your senses sensed that his dark soul has left this body. I am Elena... and I adore cats."
Suddenly, Max began to wriggle in my hands restlessly, so I put him down to jump gracefully onto the plush bed, and he sat there watching me with piercing looks. "What? Did the love end this quickly?" I shook my head in despair, "I've started hallucinating... talking to a cat as if he understands my alphabet."
The continuous ringing of the phone cut my train of thought.
"Tamara"... the name appeared on the screen to announce a strange persistence; seven consecutive calls made the device vibrate in my hand like a panicked heart.
"This Tamara is unbearable," I said to (Max), who shot me a look as if saying: Didn't I tell you? A text message arrived, so I opened it cautiously: "Hello Adrian... I missed you so much, why aren't you answering? I've started to worry." I threw the phone on the bed as if it were a burning coal; who is this? His girlfriend? His new victim?
A light knock on the door made me straighten up. "Come in," I said, trying to deepen my voice.
A young maid entered, her black hair tied in a tight bun shining under the light, and her hazel eyes sparkling with a mysterious glow.
"Do you need me, sir?" she asked in a strange tone.
"Yes," I answered spontaneously while thinking of the accumulated pile of laundry, "there are clothes that must..."
Before I could finish my sentence, what my "accountant" mind did not expect happened.
The maid rushed toward me with lightning speed, and with a graceful movement, she jumped to hug my neck, and before I could retreat or show any reaction, I felt the warmth of her lips pressing onto mine forcefully.