Dispersora | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 2

March 12, 1821

The Compound was comfortable.

Of all the places Yara had lived, she had to admit, this one was the best. Everything she could possibly need was at her fingertips. Over the course of five months, she'd read many of the books in the four libraries, and she wasn't anywhere near halfway done.

Marcel was progressing very fast. Already, he read at a high level, inhaling passages from Shakespeare better than Yara did in one year and a half of her studies.

Arithmetic had flown, too. Marcel was very good with numbers, and Yara almost struggled to keep up with his demands to learn more. He was nearly eleven years old, excelling in calculus. Yara made sure he always knew how proud she was.

Science was the next subject they'd tackled, and though that was taking him a bit longer to understand, she knew it wouldn't be long before he was jumping through subjects, asking for the next book, the next level, the next test she gave him to prove he was learning.

Currently, they were focusing on music. Though Yara was still his main teacher, Elijah participated often in his studies whenever he wasn't with Céleste Dubois, enjoying the sight of the two of them on the piano. Marcel could play many basic melodies, but as difficulty progressed, he began to feel doubt.

"I can't do it," said Marcel miserably after a fourth failed attempt at a song.

"Now, you once said the same thing of your reading," replied Elijah, "and now you devour everything from sonnets to scriptures. So, devote yourself to your music, and soon you shall be Johann Sebastian Bach."

Marcel shook his head. "But I want to play like you and Miss Yara."

Elijah made to reply, but stopped when they heard the sound of clapping in the doorway. Yara glared at Klaus, having spoken to him in the past about the stench of alcohol radiating off of him. She hated when he allowed himself to grow even slightly intoxicated in Marcel's presence.

"Well, isn't this nice?" he said dryly. "Three peas in a pod."

"Let's continue our practice later," urged Yara, tapping Marcel's shoulder gently. "We're still getting through Hamlettoday. Act one, scene three. I expect a good summary."

Marcel skipped off, as told. Klaus waved drunkenly as he passed by. "Congratulations," said Elijah tightly to his brother, "you've been drinking."

"Only to remedy the lifeless monotony that has overcome this household," replied Klaus. "You know, Rebekah's still pouting over the Governor's son, and she has scarcely been present."

"Well," said Yara slowly, "I think anyone would feel in such a way, having witnessed the way you killed him. She did care for him."

Klaus smiled. "And you, Yara, do you ever do anything amusing? You hardly leave the house."

"My understanding was that I needed to remain here as often as possible."

"You two monopolize young Marcellus with schooling. He and I used to have such fun. If only there was someone with whom I could share a bit of roguery."

"Klaus," Yara replied, fearing where he was heading with this, "I think that in front of Marcel–"

He revealed a small dagger. "I only seek a bit of fun. And I thankfully remembered there is someone who can entertain me."

Elijah seemed alarmed. "You didn't!"

Yara heard a sickening crunch from downstairs. "What is that?"

Klaus laughed maniacally as Elijah sped down to the courtyard. Yara followed, shrieking when she saw a man viciously feeding on one of the servants. "Who is this?" she snapped. "I thought we all agreed not to feed with Marcel in the house!"