The Judgement Of Divinity (TMOE #2)

Chapter 19: Business proposal

"I just don't understand why the Reapers would do this to you," Anthony said as he dabbed Lucius' ear with a wet handkerchief. "And hit you over the ear out of all things? I thought those remaining members liked you."

"Well, 'like' is a strong word." Lucius flinched as the fabric, soaked in some strong-smelling liquid, stung his skin. "Telmo and Lorenzo may have had some respect remaining when they threw me out, but they're not above beating me to the ground on sight."

He shrugged, rolling up the sleeve of his shift to pick at a scab on his arm.

"I'd be more insulted if they just ignored me."

Anthony's forehead had a wrinkle, and he grabbed Lucius' arm to keep him from scratching at the healing wounds before saying something Lucius couldn't quite catch.

"What was that?" he asked, squinting in an attempt to read lips, and Anthony's eye twitched.

"It's a little too harsh, don't you think?" His voice was louder this time. "You don't seem to hear very well."

"What?" Lucius asked once again, even louder, and Anthony drew a breath.

"I said you don't seem to—"

"I know, I heard," Lucius replied, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. "But it will get better when it heals... Probably."

Anthony looked at his ear again, but Lucius had a feeling the man had no idea what he was looking for.

"Maybe Tom should take a look at it if you're so worried," he suggested. "He should be up by now, right?"

"It's cleaning day, so he and Richard will be away for a while." Anthony pointed over his shoulder at the door. "They just swept up most of the fur in the morning, then they left."

Lucius hummed.

"How're the cleaners gonna feel about this though?" He pointed down at the sheets in his bed, specifically at the dark red spots of various sizes from the cuts he'd endured the evening before. "They'll think you're beating me."

Anthony gazed up at the ceiling in thought.

"We could... Tell them you've had a terrible case of nosebleeds."

"That's a very big case." Lucius' gaze pointed upwards as well. "And why wouldn't I have gotten something to keep the blood at bay?"

"Because the sheets will be washed today." Anthony shrugged and held up an area of particularly large stains. "Why cover more things in blood if it's already too late for these?"

"Still feels like they'd question the ingenuity of that explanation." Lucius grimaced, and Anthony sighed.

"Perhaps, but at least either explanation is in the area of possibilities to them," he reasoned, to Lucius' discomfort. "Long strands of fur on the furniture though, when we don't even have a dog? That's strange."

"That's disturbing," Lucius pointed out, distressed that people would rather gossip about misplaced fur rather than violence in the home. "Also, I'd get less suspicious cleaners if I were you. Like, servants you could trust."

"That's easier said than done, unless you're looking for another job." Anthony smiled, now investigating Lucius' exposed arm.

"Well, I've given it some thought myself as soon as I get my new house." Lucius hissed as his skin stung again. "Hiring servants that is, since it's not so easy to exist as both Lucius and Lucia in one house."

"Oh? And where have your thoughts taken you?"

"To The Home Of Withered Saints."

Anthony gave him a tired look.