Chapter 812

Chapter 812: Chapter 812 Has as Many Spare Knives in his Clothes as Gaston

“The throwing knives kept his attention well. He was growing up and capable of focusing on more than one thing at a time, but every morning and as the sun came up, and every afternoon as it went down he practiced. Didn’t even mind the glare, apparently it was even better practice because he had to learn to hit the targets by feel.

“Personally, I’m not sure it was all that useful considering the fact his targets never moved. Oh he made the most of it. Setting up a bunch of circular targets, hemp bags with a mix of wood blocks and straw. He had to replace them fairly regularly when they got cut up too much... but just by changing where he was standing in the yard it was enough to get a wide variety of angles. Just... he knew the area too well. I suspect had he ever been in a real fight with them... well... I suspect I do know how it turned out.

“Talking about this reminded me that Gaston always used to carry around a few spare knives. One in the back of his boot, one hidden in each of the soles, and a final one rather obviously hanging from his belt. Dammit. I wish I could remember if he still had that knife on him when he died... if it was missing for any reason that would have been an excellent bit of evidence...” Belle slammed a fist down on the table. Hard. The part of the table under her fist was now ripe with cracks. Probably just the vanish, but impressive nonetheless.

*Gaston might not be the only one with a magical affinity...* “Um... this might be horrible to ask but... what happened to his clothes? The ones he was wearing?” asked Kat.

Belle paused. “Hmm... I may have kept them now that you brought it up... hmm... might have to actually go home for once...”

“Wait... do you not go home?” asked Lily.

Belle shook her head, “No... I sleep here in the office,” Belle paused to shove her chair to the side. Kat took a step forward and hopped onto her toes to see a mattress behind the desk. The sheets were at least neat and orderly with no real sign of being used recently.

.....

“Belle... why do you sleep here?!” hissed Kat.

Belle sighed, her shoulders heaving with the motion as if it was taking extra effort just to admit, “I don’t go to my house anymore. I couldn’t stand the memories. Eventually... eventually I thought it would get better but it didn’t really. I mean, this isn’t even my original office. I had to move to get away from them. Even though... though it’s similar enough it still causes me problems.

“After a year of not going back... I started to rent out the space. My house is decently large... so I just packed up my most valuable things into one of the spare bedrooms, sealed that up alongside Gaston’s room and let my receptionist and his husband rent it. They make a good team. Stevon, the receptionist helps keep everything organised and me informed, while Grom, his husband is one of the guards. He’s actually one of the many that trained Gaston...”

Belle’s eyes glazed over as she lost herself to memories nobody else could see. It was... odd talking to Belle. She was able to become so much more alive talking about Gaston and his life. The joy in her eyes as she talked about his accomplishments when he was younger... but this moment showed it was just as easy to fall the other way. The reminders that her son, however good, is no longer here. That there will be no more moments of joy. No new sources of pride.

For Lily, this was particularly hard hitting. She hadn’t had the easiest life herself but she was in the unique position of being too young to remember when one set of grandparents passed away, along with some other great aunts and uncles, and have those be the only ones gone. Sufficient time had not yet passed for her to lose anyone truly close to her to death. She had of course, seen some of the sadness in her parents, but nothing like this.

For Kat, it was more interesting. She was able to see the other side of things. She’d seen many tears from children who had lost their parents, heck she’d regularly have to comfort those kids. It was normally big gestures. Refusing to eat anything at all. Crying. Throwing tantrums. This was the first time Kat had really seen a mother without her child. It was a softer, deeper anguish. Children were young. They were adaptable. With a new family they could recover, it was something Kat had seen time and time again. It was something she sort of understood, having chosen Gramps as her family. She could see in Belle’s eyes that Gaston was gone, and nothing could ever replace him.

Her earlier suggestion to find a child to adopt seemed a lot more callous now. Belle felt like a steam train that has been out a fuel and only continues to move because it’s on a downhill slope. In this case, the idea that Gaston’s death wasn’t an accident. Kat wasn’t sure what would happen when the tracks even out. The answer, whatever it was, found. Her suggestion might have been callous... but it was also perhaps even more necessary then she’d thought earlier as well.

The silence stretched for a while longer. The lamplight flickering, drawing the eyes of the Memphis and Succubus as the only source of movement in the room. The desire to interrupt Belle. To bring her back to the future warring with the understanding that she needed time. Sadly, she needed all the time in the world and then some.

So after five minutes, Kat cleared her throat carefully and Belle’s eyes snapped back to the present, glowing like the forgotten embers hidden in piles of ash. Burning so brightly compared to their surroundings, but so close to fading... or starting a new fire with their remains. A few more moments pass and Belle sucked in a deep breath. “Sorry. I was lost for a time it seems. That... it’s more common then I’d like, but less common then perhaps it should be. Still... thank you for interrupting me. It does not do to dwell on broken dreams and a past long gone,”

Best

Kat bowed her head slightly, “Well I’m sorry for being so callous in how I recommended adoption. I stand by the idea, and I think it might bring new life into your life. Something I can tell you desperately need... but... but I also understand that you took my words in extremely good faith. That I was harsh and rude. I’ve seen many children without parents, desperately wishing for new ones... I... I don’t think I’ve ever really seen a parent like yourself,”

Belle waved Kat off, “It’s... it’s acceptable. I accept your apology. Much better then the tripe I usually get for much graver offences. I... I can... perhaps not understand but... acknowledge... your position. I’m sure you have seen a number of children looking for a home, and I was sitting there, orphanage practically in sight of my building, wondering what I’ll do for a successor. I... I still agree with what I said then. I’ll need to think on it. Perhaps... more seriously then I’d intended before,”

“Perhaps,” said Kat with a nod and a weak smile.

Belle let out a long breath, preparing herself to continue speaking “Where was I... I guess I was following on from his sixth birthday... well nothing major happened until his eighth. That’s when I started to introduce him a bit more to the business. Nothing too serious of course, just letting him know a bit about each of our routes. Trying to explain why we take what supplies where. How to tell what things were really worth. Why we bother with the route at all. Things like that.

“Hmm... take ‘smalltown’ as an example. We stop by there not because it’s a worthwhile trip but because it’s only about an hour off the main road to riverside. Yes, I know, the names aren’t amazing but they were both small villages and one has been for quite some time. Anyway... riverside we can trade a lot of our stock for good fish to bring back here. Even if its dried fish sells for a good deal here. They don’t like the water much so despite having so much of it we can’t really farm them properly.

“Another example is Lougetown. It’s not actually a town anymore, it’s a city. We make our way out there because they produce some of the finest spun glass that I know of. So we load up with as much food as we can and head out. Technically we don’t actually make money in Lougetown. The trip is too long for that, but we make money bringing the glass back because the margins on proper Lougetown glass are quite good when you sell here. Does that all make sense?”