So here's chapter six. Sorry for the highly extended wait, but this chapter has been difficult for me to write for some reason. It seemed the more I wrote, the more I erased and rewrote. So I will finally get it out of my possession in fear that it will all be gone if I try and read it again. I do hope this moves the story along as several comments suggested. Enjoy.
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"Bon appétit monsieur" Malia said in a cheesy French accent as she opened Tristan's door. She was getting in a routine that started with delivering a breakfast tray to Tristan's suite where they would have breakfast together.
"Merci mademoiselle." Tristan smiled from the far seat at the table where he was always sitting when she arrived in the morning. "S'asseoir s'il vous plaît." Tristan didn't use the cheesy French accent.
"Um." Malia looked at him confused. For obvious reasons she'd missed any kind of required high school foreign language classes.
He laughed. "Please sit." He motioned to the chair across from his.
They ate together like they had for the past two weeks. It had been surprisingly relaxing spending time with Tristan. Cain had disappeared which was only catalyzing her ability to relax. Tristan assured that Cain often disappeared for weeks at a time without notice. She wasn't excessively worried either way.
She bit into a hot buttered English muffin. The food never failed to impress. Usually Tristan provided the conversation during meals due to her complete concentration on eating. It took the whole muffin for her to notice that he was being especially quiet this morning. She looked up at him and also noticed that he wasn't eating very much.
"Are you okay?" Malia asked, her voice full of concern.
He smiled sweetly, if less than energetically. "I'm feeling a little under the weather. It's not unusual for this time of year."
"Do you need a doctor?" Malia was suddenly worried, her delicious breakfast forgotten.
"No, it's not nearly that serious." He smiled reassuringly but Malia could see that he was fighting to hide his pain. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much company today though."
"No, no of course not. You should go back to bed and rest." He looked like he was about to resist but Malia was adamant and he went back to bed.
Malia went to the kitchen with the breakfast trey. Usually someone would come to collect the trays, just as they would come to deliver them, but Malia insisted that she could be useful. Mrs. Smith was putting things away in the kitchen when she arrived.
"Tristan isn't feeling well." Malia blurted out, her voice full of concern.
"Did he want something brought up?" Mrs. Smith also sounded concerned as she stopped what she was doing to look at Malia. "No, he's playing tough guy, but do you think he should see a doctor?"
She smiled and continued to walk over to the cupboard as she replied. "Tristan is a very responsible man, if something is truly wrong he will let someone know. The poor dear always gets sick around now, and he always pulls through just fine, you'll see." The woman patted Malia's shoulder in reassurance.
Malia's days had been spent with Tristan. She had no idea what she was supposed to do if he was sick. She went to her own room. Malia had gotten used to the layout of the manor fairly well. She didn't know her way around completely, as it was a very large layout to get to know, but she could get to the places she needed to go.
She loved to read but couldn't seem to focus on the pages. Where was Cain? No, she didn't care where he was. It would just put her at ease if he were here, for Tristan's sake. The door to her room opened and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
When Gwen appeared she took a breath. "Oh, I didn't expect you to be here. I can come back." She began to leave the room.
"No, wait!" Malia jumped up from the lounge. "Do you need help?"
"Um, no?" Gwen looked confused as she stood in the doorway.
"Tristan is sick and I need to keep myself busy. I feel like I've been on vacation for too long." Malia could tell that Gwen wasn't going to accept her offer, so she got up and walked to the hallway where her cart of supplies was and grabbed various cleaning products.
"Um, Olivia, you can't just-"
"Look I'm going to help you whether you like it or not. It doesn't make any sense for me to just sit around all day." Malia interrupted.
Gwen was clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events but short of fighting Malia for the cleaning supplies, she didn't have any options.
It didn't take long for the two to take care of the bedroom, just some vacuuming and light dusting. However, Gwen informed Malia that the bathroom required extensive cleaning today. The extravagantly large bathroom was covered in sparkling granite on virtually every surface. Malia gladly grabbed a tiny brush and began to scrub grout lines on the floor.
"So, Tristan's sick?" Gwen asked. Malia was surprised that she had initiated conversation, as she was generally frustratingly reserved. "Yes. He said he doesn't feel well, but Mrs. Smith said that he always gets sick in early spring?"
"Yes he does." She nodded. "I mean, I have heard that. Last spring I was new to the manor and I wasn't working directly with the masters of the house yet. However, Tristan did get violently sick at the end of fall. He had terrible fevers and was forced to stay in bed. It was quite...disconcerting." It was the most Malia had heard from Gwen. She sounded scared for Tristan, even more so than Malia had.
"I'm sure he will be fine." Malia attempted to comfort her.
Gwen looked up as if snapped out of a daze. "Yes, of course." She said quickly and returned to scrubbing grout. However, it was too late, Malia's interest was piqued.
"So you must know the, um, masters of the house fairly well?"
"Not as much as most of the staff." Gwen was still concentrating on the floors.
"So you are the newest to the manor?"
"Well, there's you." Gwen looked up at her smirking.
"Yes, but I'm not sure what I am in this place."
Gwen looked up at her seriously. "You are a member of the household, as far as I can tell. You aren't staff, and you're not a guest. Though not exactly mistress of the household." Gwen smiled in a reassuring way.
"The general wants me to marry Tristan." She hadn't intended to tell her so tactlessly, but she needed a confidant. Malia felt isolated. She instantly regretted it as she saw an unmistakable streak of pain cross Gwen's expression. So she did have feelings for Tristan.
"Oh." Gwen bit her lip and began to scrub again. Malia studied her.
"I like Tristan, he is very nice and charismatic and noble." Gwen only nodded. "But I don't want to marry him." Gwen looked up at her then. Her eyes looked larger and bluer than usual.
"Oh?" She repeated, trying to look uninterested and failing miserably.
