FLORENCE

EPILOGUE II

Part I

The vineyard was beautiful and peaceful. Rows of cultivated vines ran in long lines over the rolling hills for a few miles towards the horizon. Karou stood, admiring the scenery from the patio of the manor house. She had never really liked wine, but it was still her go-to beverage during social situations, simply for ease. Behind her, she could hear the rise and fall of two male voices, but she'd long tuned out of the conversation to focus on the picturesque view and enjoy how the Italian sunshine warmed her cooler skin.

Considering himself a cultured, upper-class gentleman, Eamon enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of talking about vintages, body, dryness, flavours, woody notes and fruity undertones; all the things Karou thought was just pretentious nonsense. It was either sweet or bitter; it didn't need to be made more complicated than that.

Her quiet time was interrupted when she heard her name being called, and she turned to recognise it was her husband trying to gain her attention. Apparently, it was time to go. In his hand sat a 'glass of red' that the vintner had given him; the sight of it made her throat tight. She swallowed down the sensation and fought to control the twitch in her gums; she was thirsty but not for wine... Behind the white-framed sunglasses she wore, her eyes were dark.

On cue, she stepped over the cobblestoned patio towards Eamon and linked his arm; it wasn't a gesture of affection, just part of the act she'd become accustomed to. Although so far they'd had a rather pleasant summer vacation together, in the back of her mind, she was still very aware that this was the last-ditch attempt at fixing the rift that had grown between them as a couple. His temper had been temperate over the last few days, but he was controlling as ever, that was why for now, she'd chosen to keep on her sunglasses while the sun was still high. She was expecting some derogatory comment come dinner time when she'd have to remove them and reveal her dark irises to him.

Packing the box of wine they'd been gifted into the back of the rental car to sit alongside the crate of cheese they'd also received from the Dairy they'd visited earlier in the day, Karou climbed into the passenger seat ready for Eamon's next 'surprise destination'. In truth, he'd chosen exactly what every day of their holiday would consist of so far. Not in a way that convinced her he was merely trying to pack as many romantic day trips into their short period of alone time together. No, it was just so that he could make sure they had a little quiet, alone time together as possible.

While he drove, he was silent and with no one around to put a show on for, he didn't bother. Even though she was wearing the earrings he'd brought her for their wedding anniversary and had chosen a dress she knew he liked; it hadn't made the slightest bit of difference to his mood. In front of others, he was the model husband and had everyone fooled that he was head over heels in love with his wife. They had the perfect marriage and two beautiful people who were ideal for each other from the outside. They had the Enochian world at their fingertips and their daughter to boot. In Enoch's social scene, people admired them like a celebrity couple, but the idea that young couples swooned over them made Karou nauseous. Couldn't anyone see that something that looked so good on the surface was obviously too good to be true? Along with the Enochian Court, Eamon had worked hard sculpting their social image as a twosome into something utopian. If Karou was honest, it didn't surprise her that he had everyone fooled.

The Florentine Castle they arrived at was stunning! The architecture, atmosphere, flora, and fauna displayed in the gardens were a small reminder that the MMWW hadn't tarnished every corner of the world. Everywhere was quieter now, but life had continued and flourished again. Italy, Florence especially, was one such place. There had always been a high number of mythicals living there, to begin with. Mortals had always been tourists, so the place had remained much the same. Nowadays, the tourists were solely mythical too.

Together they wandered the grounds, hand in hand, but silence still hung between them. They took a guided tour, and again Eamon sprung into a lively, fake conversation. Karou came off as the timid little wife Eamon liked her to be. Demur, obedient, lady-like with excellent social etiquette, was a tiring facade to uphold, but for the sake of her daughter, she put on the display with a sweet, gleaming smile and well-placed flutters of laughter. The adoring wife act dropped the moment they were alone again and found themselves taking the 'lovers walk'. How ironic. She thought as they circled the small ponds, traversed the maze and wandered by beautiful flower beds. The Castle was the perfect romantic getaway, and if anywhere could have sparked something between them, it should have been there. But as they found themselves stood before the fountain, Karou let out a sigh of relief when Eamon let go of her hand while they took a rest on a well-placed bench. She was tired! They'd visited three awe-inspiring places that day alone, and even though it was a vacation, she hadn't been able to relax for a second when in Eamon's company. For the last four days, she'd stolen moments to herself to find some solace from the tension between her and her husband... and not the good kind.

It was late afternoon by then but with summer sun was still high in the sky, Karou's eyes were transfixed on the water and the way the sunbeams glinted off of its surface, zoning out as a way to find a little peace just then. The break in the silence took her completely off guard, and she almost jumped out of her seat.

"We should go now," Eamon announced. "It's time we got something to eat."

"That sounds like a great idea," Karou replied with a forced smile. Honestly, she would've liked to have stayed longer so she could have a few moments more to herself. "I don't suppose you know a place?"

"I've got a few places noted down. Recommendations from today's tour guides." With that said, he was up on his feet and holding out his hand towards her. Of course, she took it and allowed him to escort her back to their rental car without any bother. It was just easier that way, even if the perhaps perfectly normal gesture made her skin crawl; it was all so fake.

Four days into their weeklong vacation, Karou was ready to face the fact that their marriage was over. She wondered if there had been a time when it had ever been real, but of course, it had, at least to her. Hadn't she really liked him when they first met? He'd never exactly swept her off of her feet, but they'd been friends at the very least, and there had been some level of attraction. He was handsome; there was no doubt she'd found him attractive and almost kind enough to distract her from what, or rather who she'd left behind in the US.

It had all changed the moment the wedding was over, though. Eamon Tourmaine's true colours were soon on full display; he was perhaps only the diagnosis short of being a full-blown sociopath! Karou had berated herself for a long time for having fallen for his fake charms. He had only ever wanted one thing from her, and he'd gotten it; influence. Back then, she was young, though. Wasn't she allowed to have been a little naive? Hadn't she been just a little desperate to get over a certain someone?

Still, with all that aside, she could never regret her decision to marry Eamon, even if it was just another one of his manipulations. The most beautiful fruit had grown from the battlefield that was their marriage; they'd bore Alice. To Karou, Alessandra was the most perfect and precious thing in the entire world. A mother's bias perhaps, but Alice was quite an extraordinary child, pretty and polite, a seemingly perfect princess with humility and maturity beyond her mere five years. She was already highly educated and displayed more intelligence than her peers, combined with a tremendous learning capacity. Her interest in reading all things and especially other languages had already started to blossom and dominate not just her studies but her spare time too. The thought of her bright silver-eyed bookworm smiling at her from a windowsill of the Palace made Karou smile an unbridled grin; it made all the emotional torture wrought by her father worth it.

They abandoned their rental car in a small parking lot just outside what was presumably a town centre. The mid-afternoon bustle had passed, and the people that were still around sat idling alfresco style or getting the last of their shopping as the stores closed down for the day. With his paper itinerary in hand, Eamon led Karou through a few narrow, winding streets until they were flushed out into an open square; he was looking for a restaurant he'd been informed was 'spectacular' by the vintner.

Eventually, he found it, tucked away in the corner of the square on the corner of a side street. By day the quaint establishment was a cafe. By night, it became a candle-lit restaurant. When they approached almost five pm, it seemed that they were perhaps a little early to book a table for dinner as the cafe's alfresco dining patio was still busy with customers.

As they made their way through the crowded patio tables, Karou could feel how Eamon was already annoyed that they might have to settle for a light snack rather than a hearty three-course Italian feast, even though he hadn't said a word yet. Karou could have cared less about food; she was just thirsty. Thirsty for something thick, red and preferably warm...

Tugged along by Eamon's firm grip on her hand, they came to be stood before the framed menu that sat on a stand by the door. Karou took a deep breath intending to sigh, but the scent she smelled on the warm June air immediately got her complete attention. Dropping Eamon's hand, her eyes widened behind her sunglasses, and she began scanning the crowd for the face she knew matched the scent. It was a scent she knew well. Pulling the shades from her eyes to focus more, she looked a little further afield when she didn't find his face amidst the crowd on the patio, even out over the rest of the square.

Just when she was about to give up and accept it was just a trick of her thirst, she noticed a broadsheet newspaper out of the corner of her eye move; someone was folding the paper together as they turned the page. When the black and white butterfly of pages came together, she glimpsed a face that she was certain she knew...

On the table before him sat what remained of his light Mediterranean lunch and an open, half-drunk bottle of white wine. He hadn't really wanted the alcoholic beverage. He didn't think it was appropriate to drink so early and with a business partner no less, but she had insisted on ordering it so he'd obliged and had at least one glass with her while they discussed REDford matters. (The female who had accompanied him to lunch was the head of one of his research teams.)

The beverage he had really been enjoying was one that his associate had brought along with her; the topic of discussion, a sample. In a glossy black tumbler glass on the table sat a pint of 'grown' blood; three-quarters empty by now and beneath the table a concealed crate filled with more packages. Apparently, they'd been having some success regarding improvements in the shelf life of their grown products. Their taste tests and trails had all been promising, too. Warren had to agree that for something grown in an artificial laboratory environment, the body of flavour that his team had been able to replicate was impressively delicious.

The semi-casual business meeting had adjourned around two hours ago, but he had lost track of time once he'd become engrossed in reading the news, between pondering over clues of the crossword on the rear page. He shook the spread newspaper between his hands to erect and straighten up the board pages so he could read. Once in a while, he closed the paper on his lap to free up a hand so he could take a sip from the black blood-filled tumbler or readjust his reading glasses or even pick at the remains of his lunch platter. Having chewed down a few olives, Warren readjusted his newspaper before him, closing the pages together to turn the page.

That's when the feeling that he was being watched came over him. Very slowly, he lowered the corner of the newspaper, allowing it to flop over like a dog ear so that he could peer through the gap it made in his line of sight. From his seat to near the restaurants' entrance, his blue eyes came to focus on her; the woman that had been staring at him. Their eyes met. Their gaze locked onto one another's for a couple of long moments, unashamedly, until at her side, the man she was with had to shake her shoulder to rouse her attention back to him.

So, that must be your husband.

Eamon had been busy reading the cafe menu when he'd noticed, out the corner of his eye, Karou staring off into the middle distance in a daze. He called her name, expecting her to come right back to him, but when she didn't, he got frustrated rather quickly and shook her shoulder.

"Are you even listening? What in hell are you staring at?" Like the annoying buzzing of an unwelcome fly near her ear, she turned to look at her husband and quietly explained that she had just gotten lost in thought. It must have been because she was so hungry. It seemed that Eamon zoned out too once she'd looked back at him and her explanation went straight over his head when he noticed the state of her eyes. Screwing up his nose a little, he scoffed, "Put your damned sunglasses back on. You're more than hungry."

Warren folded his newspaper into four and tucked it under his arm; he was getting ready to leave his table. Checking his wristwatch briefly, he was surprised by the time; it certainly had escaped him. Although for once he was annoyed that he'd neglected his usually tight schedule, for if he'd kept to it that particular afternoon, he would've been home by now and have missed the opportunity that he was presented with now - a chance to see Karou again.

Grabbing the crates handle, he made his way through the maze of alfresco dining tables towards the entrance Karou and the male stranger stood before. Heading straight past them, he entered the establishment and walked straight up to the bar. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he paid his bill, completely unaware that Karou was back to observing his every movement. At the same time, Eamon was busy talking with the unfortunate waitress he'd collared to discuss when the restaurant dining would open. The poor girl was struggling to appease Eamon with her explanation that the evening dinner menu wouldn't be available to order for another hour yet. He was so used to getting his way that he was notoriously unreasonable and prone to forgetting that he was only 'a somebody' in Enoch; out in the rest of the world, he was just some entitled Enochian asshole.