It was a sullen twilight, fraught with heavy, purple clouds. Sebastian sat at the east parapet and sighed wistfully, gazing upon the last vestiges of sunlight. He was always an early riser.
Stephen approaches him with a bemused expression.
"Oh, we are waxing poetic again, are we?"
Sebastian raises a finely-set eyebrow and glances at Stephen.
"Perhaps. Does it really concern you so?"
Stephen sneers. "You're pathetic! You are constantly mewling about the cruelty of fate and the futility of existence!"
"In my mind it is better to look upon it all and mourn instead of tearing into it like a rabid beast."
Stephen had picked up on the insinuation immediately. "Ha! So, the sweet, sad prince is gathering his wits against me. How encouraging. Perhaps soon we will be able to actually have a conversation."
Stephen plodded sullenly back into his chambers, feeling naught but disgust at the sight of Sebastian posed like some romantic protagonist on the face of some penny dreadful. His was the image that perpetuated all of the high-blown romanticism surrounding their affliction. Stephen would have none of it.
As he entered, Stephen could hear the soft refrains of The Master's prized violin. He was loosing yet another ode to Madame.
He had never admitted it to himself, but Stephen had always resented the relationship that they shared. Of course, they had known each other far longer than he had Madame. The Baron was her maker.
Stephen descended the great, winding staircase to the foyer; he entered the conservatory, where Baron Aldredge was consumed in the labors of his art. His hands flew across the fret of the Stradivarius as would the wings of a hummingbird. The notes he wrought were ever so eloquent.
Without turning to look, The Baron acknowledged Stephen's presence.
"And how does this evening find you, Stephen?"
"It finds me at odds with my hellish fate...as usual."
The Baron chuckled softly at this.
"Always so angry! Always spoiling for a fight! You never cease to amuse me."
Stephen closed his eyes and drove away the utter contempt he had for that last statement with a shudder, in deferment to his Master.
"And does that twit, Sebastian, amuse you as well, Master?"
"Aha! I should have known. You find the lad perched on the parapet like a nightingale, weeping at the face of the moon, and the sight angers you. You've become much too predictable."
Stephen merely grunted and turned on his heel to leave. But then he caught sight of Babette floating through the foyer as she has done through all of his desperate, feverish dreams of her.
Her breasts spilled forth from the bodice of her black velvet gown, and he leered at them hungrily.
"Good evening, my love." Her lips curved around each word with delight.
Not even Madame could yet stir his manhood the way that Babette could.
"And you have made it so...for me." Stephen took her bejeweled hand and kissed it.
"Shall we hunt together tonight?" Babette licked her lips, baring her teeth in the same instant.
"Most assuredly, my rose." Stephen took her into his arms and kissed her neck.
Yves strode past him, his head bent, as was his wont.
Stephen removed himself from his present distraction. "And here is Yves. What precious drop of happiness shall you deign to give us this night?"
Yves regarded Stephen as if he had just broken wind. "Did I address you?"
Stephen colored at this. "Dog! You're extremely fortunate that I'm in a better humour this evening."
Yves answered him with a dismissive wave of his gaunt hand. "If you wish to threaten me, you have only to seek to gain my company. You bore me beyond words."
As punctuation to his statement, Yves yawned and left Stephen gaping in livid, fanged dismay.
Babette rolled her eyes and sighed. "Why must you always start arguments, Stephen?"
Stephen's expression softened at this. "Forgive me. I..." Then he paused and stared at her for a moment. "And why should I apologize? If my behaviour causes you any distress, then keep your distance!"
Stephen marched out of the outer doors of the manor, into the waning twilight. Babette was left smarting from his verbal bombast.
Fighting back bitter tears, she could only reply, "Asshole!"
"Oh, my children!"
Babette started at the sound of her master's voice. The Baron had witnessed the entire tableau unnoticed.
"Oh! Forgive me, Master!"
"Not to fear. But do take care, Babette. As of late, Stephen has been even more impossible."
Babette nodded dejectedly and turned to leave. Just then, Madame Jessica entered the conservatory.
"Is Stephen being difficult again?"
The Baron smiled and nodded. "I don't know what to say. You bring someone into your confidence, and he behaves so."
Jessica drew a shuddering breath. "That boy! I shall have a long discourse with him, the brute!"
"Rightly so," The Baron replied, "He is your creation."
"I know! Sometimes I regret taking him instead of one of those little homosexual courtesans that stood around preening themselves."
"Here, here!" It was Raphael. He was dressed in his richest silks and smelling of rare incense.
"Raphael." The Baron smiled and thought to himself how this one had never really given him much trouble. He and Sebastian preferred to keep to themselves and pursue their own interests.
Raphael bowed deeply. "Master. You look well."
And he took Madame's hand. "My lady." He brushed the translucent flesh with his full, red lips.
"Oh, Raphael. Such a pity you don't like women."
Raphael raised an eyebrow and offered her a sly smile. "Oh, they serve their purpose after a fashion."
Sebastian emerged from his brooding place, his flowing satin blouse opened halfway down his chest.
"Hail and well met, Sebastian." Raphael's eyes strayed over the expanse of Sebastian's sculptured torso.
"Greetings, my brother." He turned to bow to The Baron and his mistress.
Jessica noticed that Sebastian had drenched himself in the lilac oil that she had given him for his birthday. It was now an outmoded gesture, but one she felt was still appropriate for her favorite supplicant.
She smiled at the two of them. "My, but you both are in exceedingly good moods tonight. A quite welcome sight after Stephen's little tantrum."
Raphael clucked his tongue. "You know, that was perfectly charming at first. But now it's just boring."
Sebastian shook his head in resignment. "He's always commenting about everything that I do. He's so judgemental."
The Baron nodded. "I'm afraid that if it continues, we shall have to exile him."
Madame Jessica turned to him. "Oh, I don't see that it would come to that yet, darling. He is only still a child as far as being turned is concerned."
The Baron considered this, brushing his chin with one long, sharp fingernail.
"Then perhaps you could offer a better solution, my sweet one?"
Then that look came over her face. Baron Aldredge knew it all too well. It was the evidence of her fertile intellect being challenge by a dilemma and then finding its resolution.
"There is one in the village, a doctor. He is what is called a psychiatrist."
Raphael and Sebastian looked at each other for a moment, then burst into giddy laughter.
The Baron had only to glance in their direction to silence them. "My treasure, are you sure that is wise? We are not in the practice of inviting mortals into our fold without disposing of them later."
Jessica shrugged. "Then, so be it. We will seek his advice on the matter, then you may crush his head."
