Short Story in the Style of a Gothic Novel
Something I did for my English Lit coursework.
Yes, I got an A*
Rain drops smeared across the window and Lirael followed them with her finger, she sighed and hopped off the old wooden windowsill. She had turned nineteen at the end of summer, and now winter was threatening. Her farther should have started finding suitors for her a few weeks after her birthday, but her farther was still holding back from this coming of age rite. Whenever questioned he would take her by the hand and explain that he was just waiting for “someone who was worthy of her” but sadly there was no one “worthy” in her fathers eyes.
She didn’t mind, after all, suiting meant having to visit the homes of such men and be scrutinized for her marriage potential, which didn’t appealed to Lirael at all.
Lirael had been raised by her father after her mother had mysteriously disappeared when she was ten. She had never been talked about since, her father purging the house of anything with her memory attached to it, with the exception of her mothers dresses, those had been saved for her coming of age.
But that had come, and would soon be gone again, and still she had no reason to wear such things.
Lirael came out of her daydreaming just in time to hear her name being called for dinner.
The house they lived in wasn’t anything special, but it was comfortable, and they never went without.
The house was built out of heavy stone that had been mined from the hills that surrounded the village they lived in. Every wall was smothered in lime plaster, then whitewashed, beams being left bear so the house looked “rustic”.
The house was furnished in the same way, either slavered in paint or left bear.
Lirael never asked where he father got the money to live from, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, such things were better kept a mystery.
They ate their meal together at the scrubbed oak table, when they’d finished she washed the dinner things and went to bed. Every night was the same, silence then bed. No useless chit-chat or affection.
She filled the washbasin and washed her face and hands, changed and got into bed. She blew out the candle and fall asleep almost instantly.
Her dreams turned black, and she started falling.
Blood, screams, falling with someone trying to grab her, then hitting the ground hard.
Lirael awoke with a shout, the sweat dripping off her face and body. She’d never seen anything so horrible…so wrong and violent.
“Don’t be stupid, just a dream” she spoke to the darkness.
She tried to settle down, and after a few restless hours she fell asleep again.
The sun pried cruelly at her eyes as someone pulled her curtains apart.
“Up ya’ get lass, get dressed an’ such” Liraels father slurred.
“But? Why?” The words came out thick with sleep.
“Ya’ got ya’self a suitor” He replied. “He’s a-coming for tea, so get one o’ them old dresses on” With that he stomped out, leaving Lirael to scrabble to her wardrobe.
Lirael had dressed and made herself up in record time and was now sat opposite a tall dark man with eyes green as jade. He said his name was Ville Valo and that he lived in the manor not twenty minutes from the small village in which she lived.
Lirael studied him, she couldn’t understand why this beautiful man was here.
Ville was growing impatient of the man sat next to him and turned his attention to Lirael. She was slightly older, and perhaps wiser then the other girls who had been forced upon him to suit and he was glad of this. He had quickly grown tired of the endless giggling and chatting of the younger girls, and had come to ignoring them if they had stayed at his home.
Ville rolled his eyes and chuckled at this, he had earned himself the reputation of a sullen old man because of this.
He turned his attention back to Lirael, she was beautiful, but not the phoney made up beauty of a girl, she had the innocent wisdom of a young woman, and this to Ville, was breath taking.
Her blue eyes seemed endless, and were framed by long dark hair. Her skin was the milky white of snow and Ville couldn’t help but stare at this wonder that sat before him.
He felt a pang of pain as he remembered her mother, and that she had lived with this man for so long.
“So when will ya’ be wanting her to stay with you mister Valo?” Peter asked him slightly forced.
Ville pulled himself out of his memories to answer.
“Well, I think perhaps tomorrow night? For a few days maybe?” Ville looked at Lirael for an answer, but it was her father that replied.
“Thata be fine” He glanced over at his daughter, who gave a small nod to say she understood.
“Very well then” Ville got up from his seat and took Liraels hand in his.
“It was lovely to meet you Lirael, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night” He kissed her hand and turned to her father again.
“I shall be sending a coach at six, dinner is served at seven, but I would like Lirael to see the grounds before then” With that he turned on his heel and left, leaving an empty silence behind him.
After dinner that night Peter gave Lirael a dress box, and told her to open it.
Inside was the most beautiful dress Lirael had ever seen. The whole dress was made out of jet black velvet, with light pink silk carefully stitched into the seams and a tiny leaved ivy trailing up the skirts onto the bodice which was boned with the same pink silk covering each bone.
She gasped at the splendour.
“How on earth did you afford this?” She asked before thinking.
Her father gave her a warning look before he answered her.
“Ask no questions child, an’ I’ll tell ya’ no lies” He chuckled at this and then got up, he gave her a tender kiss on the forehead.
“Just promise ya’ll do me proud tomorrow lass, and I’ll be happy” He patted the dress and went to bed.
Lirael carefully put the dress back in the box. She gathered her things and went to bed also, tomorrow was going to be a long day.
Lirael was finally helped out of the horse drawn coach and crunched on to the gravel drive with a little hop, wishing now that she had declined to take the “scenic route” which had consisted of three miles of wet sheep and grass.
The manor was an old stately house covered in bits of delicate stonework purged from old Italian chapels, with large iron windows set into the walls, but even with its questionable architecture, the manor was beautiful.
Before she could fully take in the beauty of what could be hers, she was grabbed by the arm and led up the stairs by an irritated woman who she took to be the house keeper.
She was walked through the tall oak doors into the manors entrance hall, and let out a gasp at the grandeur.
The walls, floor and stairs were all clad in ice white marble, the ceiling was as high as a churches and at its centre a beautiful window that shone a bright circle of light onto the floor.
It was like standing inside a glacier, the only colour came from the runner which lay upon the stairs, which was a swirl of deep red and black held in place by thick golden rods.
“Mister Valo said to take you up to the drawing room as soon as you got here, obviously he didn’t think you’d take so long gawping at the sheep on your way here”
The woman was still leading her up the stairs, Lirael tried to stammer her apologies, but before she could start the woman snapped at her again.
“Don’t bother telling me your name yet, I wouldn’t bother ‘til we know what he thinks of you”.
They had arrived at the drawing room; Lirael could smell the cigar smoke squeezing from under the door.
The woman who had dragged her up the stairs had bustled off to attend to some other matter, leaving Lirael alone in the icy corridor.
She felt someone watching her, and looked around before noticing a mirror next to the door.
Looking at her reflection she couldn’t believe her eyes.
She looked like a lost little girl, not the 19 year old who was about to spend the night with a possible fiancé.
Sighing she looked away and back to the oak door in front of her, how many other girls had been in this position? Their fate decided in a few days?.
But that was how things were; girls of her age were handed out to possible suitors until someone decided they were marriage worthy.
She tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, placed her hand on the shiny brass doorknob, but then had second thoughts.
What if he was with someone? Or dealing with something private?
She lifted her hand and knocked gently, she heard a rustle of papers, the tap of a cigar in an ashtray.
She waited for what felt like a million years, before she heard a “come in” purred from the other side of the door.
Lirael held her breath as she went in, cigar smoke always made her sneeze.
Ville was sat in an emerald green wingback chair, looking surprisingly casual for such an important evening.
He was wearing a simple black silk shirt and trousers, hair pulled back into a messy pony-tail.
Walnut panels and bookcases surrounded him and a ruby red carpet sat under his bare feet.
He moved to sit on the sofa next to his chair, which was also the same deep emerald green, and patted the space next to himself.
Lirael crossed the room and sat lightly next to the man, relishing the feel of the deep carpet through the thin soles of her slippers.
She sat, looking at her hands and trying to think of something to say to break the long silence between them.
Thankfully Ville got there first and cleared his throat
“How was the journey? Not to unbearable I hope?”
She mumbled something about sheep and Ville laughed loudly.
“Yes, Joseph does seem to enjoy showing people the sheep” he teased gently.
Lirael felt the blush rising in her cheeks and tried to look away, but Villes gaze held her firmly.
“How many suitors have you had before me, Lirael?” he looked at her seriously
“None” she replied, and glanced at her hands.
“I find that hard to believe…” Villes hand had moved into her own.
“Father said he was saving me for somebody who was my match, someone who he thought would be good enough for me…”.
Ville had inched closer, their noses almost touching.
He leaned forward to kiss her, but was cut short by a sharp tap on the door.
The house keeper came in, looking slightly shocked at their proximity.
“Sir, dinner is ready if you’d like to come through to the dining room” With that she turned on her heel and flounced off.
Ville took Liraels hand and lead her back into the frozen corridor towards another dark oak door.
“I’m afraid we’re only using the small dining room tonight, as there’s only the two of us” he pulled her chair out for her and she sat gazing at the décor of yet another grand room.
The dining room was far from the heavy décor of the study, it was bright and colourful, with beautiful paintings hung on the walls. Light wood panelling crept up from the floor and hugged halfway up the wall, above it the wallpaper was a dusty rose colour, too match the soft furnishings.
They sat opposite each other at the long oak dining table; Ville was looking down at his hands and seemed nervous.
“How long have you lived here mister Valo?” she asked him boldly.
He let out one of his low chuckles and looked up at her.
“You don’t have to call me that you know, I don’t even ask the servants to call me sir” He cleared his throat and continued.
“You can call me Ville; I won’t answer to anything else” He smiled as the first course was bought out and started pouring wine for them both.
“Um...Ok. So Ville, how long have you lived here in the manor?” She smiled at her own casual voice.
“All of my life, this house belonged to my father, and when he disappeared it fell to me to look after the family business and see to the upkeep of this house”.
Lirael mulled this over, so his father had disappeared as well.
She blushed at how little she knew about Ville.
Ville saw her blushing and rolled his eyes, hopefully this wasn’t the beginning of a little girl moment.
“We don’t really know much about each other, do we?” Ville mused.
“I guess I should tell you about myself at least” Ville stopped, what could he tell her?
“Um...I’m 23 years old, and I come from an old Finnish family, my father left when I was 13, to be with his mistress and left my mother to bring me up herself. She died when I was 17 and I’ve been living here by myself since, apart from the servants that is” He gave another dark chuckle at this.
“So as you can tell, quite a tragic childhood” he picked up his wine glass and signalled from Lirael to do the same.
“To us” he tapped his glass on hers and took a large gulp of the red liquid.
“To us” Lirael mumbled and took her own small sip.
“I hope you do like it here Lirael, I dare say you’re the first woman I’ve met who I’d like to visit, or even stay, for a lot longer” He gave her a sly wink with this.
And that’s how the night wore on, gradually Lirael succumbed to the wine and let her shyness go.
By the end of the night she found herself laying in Villes grand bedroom, clad in only her nightdress, wine in one hand, and surprisingly, a cigar in the other.
Ville was telling her about one the poor girls who had first been thrust upon him for a few nights, and had stripped herself naked after dinner and told Ville that after that night she would surely be his wife.
“So what did you do!?” Lirael was feeling quite drunk now, and was almost having to shout over the old record Ville had put on.
“Well I had to throw her out of course, and I threw her clothes off the balcony!”
They both collapsed in a fit of laughter and ended up cuddled up at the end of the bed together.
“See…You surprised me mister Valo, I was expecting you to ignore me all evening and be a sullen old man” She watched as Ville rolled his eyes at her and pretended to sulk.
“Do you think I’m an old man?” He asked her, pouting.
“Well your older then I am” She teased.
“And you live like an old spinster!” Ville raised his eyebrows in mock surprise while he topped up her glass.
“Well hopefully that will change soon…” A blush crept up Villes cheeks as he said this.
“What are you saying mister Valo? Are you implying that you are soon to be married? Because I’d hate to be caught in bed with a married man” Lirael tried to move away to show her point, but Ville held her tight, so she gave up and relaxed into his embrace.
“You know, I never thought suiting would be like this, I was always told that you had to keep your manners, be polite and such. I never would have dreamed that I’d end up drunk and smoking in Ville Valo’s bedroom” She giggled.
Ville moved so he was facing her and looked deep into her eyes. Maybe he should tell her, tell her that there parents sudden disappearance at the same time wasn’t just a coincidence.
“Lirael, Do you ever wonder why your mother disappeared?” Ville asked her softly.
“Well yes, of course I do, why? Do you know something I don’t?” Lirael looked worried now.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that my father and your mother both went at the same time?” He raised his eyebrows at her, telling her not to be stupid and think about it.
“Are you saying that…but that can’t be true, why would she do that?” Tears were forming in Liraels eyes now, and Ville felt a pang of guilt knowing he’d put them there.
“Lirael, you have to understand that your father is not a nice man, in fact, the only reason you’re here tonight is because he thinks that it’s because of me that your mother left him in the first place” He took her warm hands in his and kissed her lightly.
“Lirael, I think he plans to come here tonight when we’re sleeping…And…Well, take revenge” he looked solemnly at there entwined hands.
“But what’s that got to do with me?! What have I done?!” Lirael had pulled herself away and was now standing by the window.
Ville got up with a sigh and walked over the where she was standing, he put his arms around her for comfort.
“Do you really think he’s going to let you live after you’ve watched him slaughter me?” He whispered in her ear.
She turned, and fell into his arms, tears still running her pale face.
“What are you going to do?”
She looked at him intently, tears still hanging on the eyelashes.
“I’m going to do what any man would do when having to protect himself and his wife against a murderer” He smiled down at her, hoping she wasn’t to intoxicated or upset to understand what he’d just implied.
So they sat and waited, midnight came and still they sat, Ville with a dagger across his lap, and Lirael curled up next to him asleep. He stroked her hair softly, but watched the window in front of him intently, his eyes and ears straining for any little sound.
He heard the sound of someone trying to be quiet on the balcony, the scuff of a boot on stone, a shadow across the window.
Ville got up silently and made his way to the French style doors that opened on to the balcony. He had left the dagger sheathed next to the sleeping Lirael, hoping to resolve this without violence.
Lirael awoke, she could hear raised voices coming from the balcony.
She lay still as a mouse, eyes wide open in fear and panic.
Moving slightly, she felt the cool metal of the dagger Ville had left next to her and pulled it from it’s sheathe.
Anger flared up inside of her.
Anger from her father who had lied to her for so long. Anger from her mother, who left when she was so young.
All of this welled up and came poring out as she ran towards the window and flung herself through the glass doors.
Both the men stopped with surprise and stared at her clutching the dagger in her fist and her wild eyes staring back at them.
Lirael curled her toes into the cold hard stone at her feet, and felt comfort at the solidarity it had.
Her father was leaning back against the carved stone balustrade that ran the edge of the balcony, fingers dug into the stone until they were white.
She lunged, dagger aimed straight for the fat old mans heart.
Everything slowed right down, everyone moved at once.
Ville jumped towards her as she lunged, trying to grab her but missing and pushing her into Peter and the blade into his heart.
There was a crack, like a gun-shot and the stone fell away under Lirael and her father, they fell into the darkness and hit the ground with a deafening smack.
Pain filled Lirael’s whole body, she tried to open her eyes, but sweet pain releasing sleep beckoned to her, promising peace.
She gave in.
Yes, I got an A*
Rain drops smeared across the window and Lirael followed them with her finger, she sighed and hopped off the old wooden windowsill. She had turned nineteen at the end of summer, and now winter was threatening. Her farther should have started finding suitors for her a few weeks after her birthday, but her farther was still holding back from this coming of age rite. Whenever questioned he would take her by the hand and explain that he was just waiting for “someone who was worthy of her” but sadly there was no one “worthy” in her fathers eyes.
She didn’t mind, after all, suiting meant having to visit the homes of such men and be scrutinized for her marriage potential, which didn’t appealed to Lirael at all.
Lirael had been raised by her father after her mother had mysteriously disappeared when she was ten. She had never been talked about since, her father purging the house of anything with her memory attached to it, with the exception of her mothers dresses, those had been saved for her coming of age.
But that had come, and would soon be gone again, and still she had no reason to wear such things.
Lirael came out of her daydreaming just in time to hear her name being called for dinner.
The house they lived in wasn’t anything special, but it was comfortable, and they never went without.
The house was built out of heavy stone that had been mined from the hills that surrounded the village they lived in. Every wall was smothered in lime plaster, then whitewashed, beams being left bear so the house looked “rustic”.
The house was furnished in the same way, either slavered in paint or left bear.
Lirael never asked where he father got the money to live from, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, such things were better kept a mystery.
They ate their meal together at the scrubbed oak table, when they’d finished she washed the dinner things and went to bed. Every night was the same, silence then bed. No useless chit-chat or affection.
She filled the washbasin and washed her face and hands, changed and got into bed. She blew out the candle and fall asleep almost instantly.
Her dreams turned black, and she started falling.
Blood, screams, falling with someone trying to grab her, then hitting the ground hard.
Lirael awoke with a shout, the sweat dripping off her face and body. She’d never seen anything so horrible…so wrong and violent.
“Don’t be stupid, just a dream” she spoke to the darkness.
She tried to settle down, and after a few restless hours she fell asleep again.
The sun pried cruelly at her eyes as someone pulled her curtains apart.
“Up ya’ get lass, get dressed an’ such” Liraels father slurred.
“But? Why?” The words came out thick with sleep.
“Ya’ got ya’self a suitor” He replied. “He’s a-coming for tea, so get one o’ them old dresses on” With that he stomped out, leaving Lirael to scrabble to her wardrobe.
Lirael had dressed and made herself up in record time and was now sat opposite a tall dark man with eyes green as jade. He said his name was Ville Valo and that he lived in the manor not twenty minutes from the small village in which she lived.
Lirael studied him, she couldn’t understand why this beautiful man was here.
Ville was growing impatient of the man sat next to him and turned his attention to Lirael. She was slightly older, and perhaps wiser then the other girls who had been forced upon him to suit and he was glad of this. He had quickly grown tired of the endless giggling and chatting of the younger girls, and had come to ignoring them if they had stayed at his home.
Ville rolled his eyes and chuckled at this, he had earned himself the reputation of a sullen old man because of this.
He turned his attention back to Lirael, she was beautiful, but not the phoney made up beauty of a girl, she had the innocent wisdom of a young woman, and this to Ville, was breath taking.
Her blue eyes seemed endless, and were framed by long dark hair. Her skin was the milky white of snow and Ville couldn’t help but stare at this wonder that sat before him.
He felt a pang of pain as he remembered her mother, and that she had lived with this man for so long.
“So when will ya’ be wanting her to stay with you mister Valo?” Peter asked him slightly forced.
Ville pulled himself out of his memories to answer.
“Well, I think perhaps tomorrow night? For a few days maybe?” Ville looked at Lirael for an answer, but it was her father that replied.
“Thata be fine” He glanced over at his daughter, who gave a small nod to say she understood.
“Very well then” Ville got up from his seat and took Liraels hand in his.
“It was lovely to meet you Lirael, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night” He kissed her hand and turned to her father again.
“I shall be sending a coach at six, dinner is served at seven, but I would like Lirael to see the grounds before then” With that he turned on his heel and left, leaving an empty silence behind him.
After dinner that night Peter gave Lirael a dress box, and told her to open it.
Inside was the most beautiful dress Lirael had ever seen. The whole dress was made out of jet black velvet, with light pink silk carefully stitched into the seams and a tiny leaved ivy trailing up the skirts onto the bodice which was boned with the same pink silk covering each bone.
She gasped at the splendour.
“How on earth did you afford this?” She asked before thinking.
Her father gave her a warning look before he answered her.
“Ask no questions child, an’ I’ll tell ya’ no lies” He chuckled at this and then got up, he gave her a tender kiss on the forehead.
“Just promise ya’ll do me proud tomorrow lass, and I’ll be happy” He patted the dress and went to bed.
Lirael carefully put the dress back in the box. She gathered her things and went to bed also, tomorrow was going to be a long day.
Lirael was finally helped out of the horse drawn coach and crunched on to the gravel drive with a little hop, wishing now that she had declined to take the “scenic route” which had consisted of three miles of wet sheep and grass.
The manor was an old stately house covered in bits of delicate stonework purged from old Italian chapels, with large iron windows set into the walls, but even with its questionable architecture, the manor was beautiful.
Before she could fully take in the beauty of what could be hers, she was grabbed by the arm and led up the stairs by an irritated woman who she took to be the house keeper.
She was walked through the tall oak doors into the manors entrance hall, and let out a gasp at the grandeur.
The walls, floor and stairs were all clad in ice white marble, the ceiling was as high as a churches and at its centre a beautiful window that shone a bright circle of light onto the floor.
It was like standing inside a glacier, the only colour came from the runner which lay upon the stairs, which was a swirl of deep red and black held in place by thick golden rods.
“Mister Valo said to take you up to the drawing room as soon as you got here, obviously he didn’t think you’d take so long gawping at the sheep on your way here”
The woman was still leading her up the stairs, Lirael tried to stammer her apologies, but before she could start the woman snapped at her again.
“Don’t bother telling me your name yet, I wouldn’t bother ‘til we know what he thinks of you”.
They had arrived at the drawing room; Lirael could smell the cigar smoke squeezing from under the door.
The woman who had dragged her up the stairs had bustled off to attend to some other matter, leaving Lirael alone in the icy corridor.
She felt someone watching her, and looked around before noticing a mirror next to the door.
Looking at her reflection she couldn’t believe her eyes.
She looked like a lost little girl, not the 19 year old who was about to spend the night with a possible fiancé.
Sighing she looked away and back to the oak door in front of her, how many other girls had been in this position? Their fate decided in a few days?.
But that was how things were; girls of her age were handed out to possible suitors until someone decided they were marriage worthy.
She tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, placed her hand on the shiny brass doorknob, but then had second thoughts.
What if he was with someone? Or dealing with something private?
She lifted her hand and knocked gently, she heard a rustle of papers, the tap of a cigar in an ashtray.
She waited for what felt like a million years, before she heard a “come in” purred from the other side of the door.
Lirael held her breath as she went in, cigar smoke always made her sneeze.
Ville was sat in an emerald green wingback chair, looking surprisingly casual for such an important evening.
He was wearing a simple black silk shirt and trousers, hair pulled back into a messy pony-tail.
Walnut panels and bookcases surrounded him and a ruby red carpet sat under his bare feet.
He moved to sit on the sofa next to his chair, which was also the same deep emerald green, and patted the space next to himself.
Lirael crossed the room and sat lightly next to the man, relishing the feel of the deep carpet through the thin soles of her slippers.
She sat, looking at her hands and trying to think of something to say to break the long silence between them.
Thankfully Ville got there first and cleared his throat
“How was the journey? Not to unbearable I hope?”
She mumbled something about sheep and Ville laughed loudly.
“Yes, Joseph does seem to enjoy showing people the sheep” he teased gently.
Lirael felt the blush rising in her cheeks and tried to look away, but Villes gaze held her firmly.
“How many suitors have you had before me, Lirael?” he looked at her seriously
“None” she replied, and glanced at her hands.
“I find that hard to believe…” Villes hand had moved into her own.
“Father said he was saving me for somebody who was my match, someone who he thought would be good enough for me…”.
Ville had inched closer, their noses almost touching.
He leaned forward to kiss her, but was cut short by a sharp tap on the door.
The house keeper came in, looking slightly shocked at their proximity.
“Sir, dinner is ready if you’d like to come through to the dining room” With that she turned on her heel and flounced off.
Ville took Liraels hand and lead her back into the frozen corridor towards another dark oak door.
“I’m afraid we’re only using the small dining room tonight, as there’s only the two of us” he pulled her chair out for her and she sat gazing at the décor of yet another grand room.
The dining room was far from the heavy décor of the study, it was bright and colourful, with beautiful paintings hung on the walls. Light wood panelling crept up from the floor and hugged halfway up the wall, above it the wallpaper was a dusty rose colour, too match the soft furnishings.
They sat opposite each other at the long oak dining table; Ville was looking down at his hands and seemed nervous.
“How long have you lived here mister Valo?” she asked him boldly.
He let out one of his low chuckles and looked up at her.
“You don’t have to call me that you know, I don’t even ask the servants to call me sir” He cleared his throat and continued.
“You can call me Ville; I won’t answer to anything else” He smiled as the first course was bought out and started pouring wine for them both.
“Um...Ok. So Ville, how long have you lived here in the manor?” She smiled at her own casual voice.
“All of my life, this house belonged to my father, and when he disappeared it fell to me to look after the family business and see to the upkeep of this house”.
Lirael mulled this over, so his father had disappeared as well.
She blushed at how little she knew about Ville.
Ville saw her blushing and rolled his eyes, hopefully this wasn’t the beginning of a little girl moment.
“We don’t really know much about each other, do we?” Ville mused.
“I guess I should tell you about myself at least” Ville stopped, what could he tell her?
“Um...I’m 23 years old, and I come from an old Finnish family, my father left when I was 13, to be with his mistress and left my mother to bring me up herself. She died when I was 17 and I’ve been living here by myself since, apart from the servants that is” He gave another dark chuckle at this.
“So as you can tell, quite a tragic childhood” he picked up his wine glass and signalled from Lirael to do the same.
“To us” he tapped his glass on hers and took a large gulp of the red liquid.
“To us” Lirael mumbled and took her own small sip.
“I hope you do like it here Lirael, I dare say you’re the first woman I’ve met who I’d like to visit, or even stay, for a lot longer” He gave her a sly wink with this.
And that’s how the night wore on, gradually Lirael succumbed to the wine and let her shyness go.
By the end of the night she found herself laying in Villes grand bedroom, clad in only her nightdress, wine in one hand, and surprisingly, a cigar in the other.
Ville was telling her about one the poor girls who had first been thrust upon him for a few nights, and had stripped herself naked after dinner and told Ville that after that night she would surely be his wife.
“So what did you do!?” Lirael was feeling quite drunk now, and was almost having to shout over the old record Ville had put on.
“Well I had to throw her out of course, and I threw her clothes off the balcony!”
They both collapsed in a fit of laughter and ended up cuddled up at the end of the bed together.
“See…You surprised me mister Valo, I was expecting you to ignore me all evening and be a sullen old man” She watched as Ville rolled his eyes at her and pretended to sulk.
“Do you think I’m an old man?” He asked her, pouting.
“Well your older then I am” She teased.
“And you live like an old spinster!” Ville raised his eyebrows in mock surprise while he topped up her glass.
“Well hopefully that will change soon…” A blush crept up Villes cheeks as he said this.
“What are you saying mister Valo? Are you implying that you are soon to be married? Because I’d hate to be caught in bed with a married man” Lirael tried to move away to show her point, but Ville held her tight, so she gave up and relaxed into his embrace.
“You know, I never thought suiting would be like this, I was always told that you had to keep your manners, be polite and such. I never would have dreamed that I’d end up drunk and smoking in Ville Valo’s bedroom” She giggled.
Ville moved so he was facing her and looked deep into her eyes. Maybe he should tell her, tell her that there parents sudden disappearance at the same time wasn’t just a coincidence.
“Lirael, Do you ever wonder why your mother disappeared?” Ville asked her softly.
“Well yes, of course I do, why? Do you know something I don’t?” Lirael looked worried now.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that my father and your mother both went at the same time?” He raised his eyebrows at her, telling her not to be stupid and think about it.
“Are you saying that…but that can’t be true, why would she do that?” Tears were forming in Liraels eyes now, and Ville felt a pang of guilt knowing he’d put them there.
“Lirael, you have to understand that your father is not a nice man, in fact, the only reason you’re here tonight is because he thinks that it’s because of me that your mother left him in the first place” He took her warm hands in his and kissed her lightly.
“Lirael, I think he plans to come here tonight when we’re sleeping…And…Well, take revenge” he looked solemnly at there entwined hands.
“But what’s that got to do with me?! What have I done?!” Lirael had pulled herself away and was now standing by the window.
Ville got up with a sigh and walked over the where she was standing, he put his arms around her for comfort.
“Do you really think he’s going to let you live after you’ve watched him slaughter me?” He whispered in her ear.
She turned, and fell into his arms, tears still running her pale face.
“What are you going to do?”
She looked at him intently, tears still hanging on the eyelashes.
“I’m going to do what any man would do when having to protect himself and his wife against a murderer” He smiled down at her, hoping she wasn’t to intoxicated or upset to understand what he’d just implied.
So they sat and waited, midnight came and still they sat, Ville with a dagger across his lap, and Lirael curled up next to him asleep. He stroked her hair softly, but watched the window in front of him intently, his eyes and ears straining for any little sound.
He heard the sound of someone trying to be quiet on the balcony, the scuff of a boot on stone, a shadow across the window.
Ville got up silently and made his way to the French style doors that opened on to the balcony. He had left the dagger sheathed next to the sleeping Lirael, hoping to resolve this without violence.
Lirael awoke, she could hear raised voices coming from the balcony.
She lay still as a mouse, eyes wide open in fear and panic.
Moving slightly, she felt the cool metal of the dagger Ville had left next to her and pulled it from it’s sheathe.
Anger flared up inside of her.
Anger from her father who had lied to her for so long. Anger from her mother, who left when she was so young.
All of this welled up and came poring out as she ran towards the window and flung herself through the glass doors.
Both the men stopped with surprise and stared at her clutching the dagger in her fist and her wild eyes staring back at them.
Lirael curled her toes into the cold hard stone at her feet, and felt comfort at the solidarity it had.
Her father was leaning back against the carved stone balustrade that ran the edge of the balcony, fingers dug into the stone until they were white.
She lunged, dagger aimed straight for the fat old mans heart.
Everything slowed right down, everyone moved at once.
Ville jumped towards her as she lunged, trying to grab her but missing and pushing her into Peter and the blade into his heart.
There was a crack, like a gun-shot and the stone fell away under Lirael and her father, they fell into the darkness and hit the ground with a deafening smack.
Pain filled Lirael’s whole body, she tried to open her eyes, but sweet pain releasing sleep beckoned to her, promising peace.
She gave in.