At Your Service

Chapter 6- Replacement

    The witch lied.
Upon knocking three times and receiving no response, Carlisle entered Anja's bedroom, the bed perfectly made. It could have been that she had made it herself, but that could not have been because he knew for a fact that Marjorie had placed a chocolate on one of the pillows yesterday as a little welcoming touch; that chocolate still sat on the centre of the pillow, perfectly undisturbed. He walked to the study to find books everywhere, as it had been earlier.
    Anja had fallen asleep sitting up, her back sunk into the couch with a book on her lap, her head resting on the back of the couch. The radio was on again. Carlisle smirked as he walked over until he was standing in front of her. The witch's eyebrows were furrowed together and her mouth was curved in a deep frown, making her look as though she were upset in her sleep. "Madam?"
    The witch suddenly sat up gasping, icy blue eyes wide. "Oh, God, I fell asleep here," she groaned. She looked at her watch to see that it was 7:00, when she normally woke up, despite going to sleep so late.
    "Did you sleep well, at least?" Carlisle questioned.
    Anja nodded and groaned as she moved herself into the wheelchair, which was still sitting where Carlisle had put it. "Yeah, I slept fine." She brushed some hair that had come loose from the bun, the amount of which was more than there had been before, behind her ear. "I need a shower." A random rush of adrenaline rushed through her as she realized the language was now incorrect. "I need a bath, I mean."
    Carlisle nodded as he turned the radio off before walking back over. "I will take you to your parents' bathroom until we have a bath installed in yours."
    "Oh, um..." Anja didn't want to go into the bedroom of her dead parents; not yet, at least. "What about the bathroom in the guest hall?"
    "Mmm." The butler clicked his tongue. "I was only suggesting it because we're on the same floor."
    Anja's expression had saddened significantly; she looked less alive, more fatigued, as if her grief physically burdened her. "I understand. We can go there, then."
    Wondering about Anja's path of thought, he pushed her wheelchair out of the study and into the hallway before turning left to head towards the bedroom of the deceased Vandivers. Anja watched the butler's gloved hand rest on the doorknob of her parents' bedroom once they reached it, hesitating before turning the knob and opening the door.
    The room was the darkest it had ever been. The curtains were drawn shut, there were no lights on, and there were no fires lit in the fireplace. It still smelled the same, a combination of cologne, perfume, and lavender oil. The bed was perfectly made. The vase on the dresser, which was usually full of living flowers, was empty. Anja felt just as empty. Carlisle silently pushed the witch's wheelchair through the bedroom towards the bathroom, noting that the circumstances were much different the last time he had been inside.
    Carlisle stopped Anja in front of the door so he could walk around and open it before bringing her inside, the wheels gliding smoothly over the white linoleum tiling. To Anja's surprise, her prescribed body wash and ointment were sitting on the shelf mounted on the wall on the left side of the bathtub. He walked over, and Anja thought he was putting a hand on her shoulder, but he felt the sleeve of her cardigan slip off her shoulder.
    "What are you doing?" Anja questioned, twisting her head to look up at the butler from over her shoulder.
    He gave her a confused look. "Is something wrong?"
    "I can get myself undressed for a bath," she stated.
    "You had Marjorie help you yesterday," Carlisle argued. "Are you concerned because I'm a man?"
    Anja's blushing betrayed her but she held her ground. "No, I just want to try it on my own." Her stare was hard. "I will try, and you will wait outside, and, if I need you, I will call for you."
    Carlisle stared right back down at the witch in the wheelchair as he presented a silver bell, seemingly out of nowhere. "As much as this bothers me, as I am concerned about your safety, I must accept and respect my mistress's privacy. This bell will be for when you are finished in the bath because, whether you want it or not, you will need help getting out of this bath until an accessible one is installed in your own bathroom. Ring the bell for finish, call for emergency."
    Anja nodded slowly. "All right, then." She lifted her hand up, and the butler rested the bell in her palm. "I will be right outside." With that, he left the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. Carlisle leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, staring at the bed and what hid underneath, though not very well. He contemplated shoving it further beneath the bed, but, smiling to himself, he left it go.
    Anja had gotten herself fully undressed with ease, but the hard part was getting herself into the bathtub from the wheelchair. Thankfully, she was decently strong and was able to hoist herself out and grab onto the rims of the tub and elevate herself before lowering herself in, like a gymnast on a pommel horse.
She was used to having to bend her knees to fit in the bathtub. The remnants of her legs fit with room in the bottom of the bathtub so she sat normally. It was strange. Of course, because her incisions were quite recent, she could not fully take a bath to reduce the risk of infection, so the water simply ran and drained from the tub. Anja washed her hair, rinsing it with the water coming from the pull out sprayer. She washed her body, cautious of burns and scars, and rinsed carefully.
Carlisle grinned when he heard the melodic ringing of the silver bell from within the bathroom. He opened the door to see Anja sitting in her chair, mostly dry and wrapped in a towel. Her hair was a wet, but not soaked, tangled mess, despite being the straightest it ever gets. "What are your plans for today, Miss Vandiver?"
    "You can call me Anja, you know," the witch scoffed.
"I must earn that privilege," Carlisle informed her as he wheeled her out of the bathroom and out into the bedroom.
"I plan on... going through the belongings of my parents," Anja informed him with a sigh. "Most will go to charity, be put up for auction if it is a valuable article."
He smirked to himself. She would find it today, and that would lead to a conversation he could not wait to have with her. "Very good." He wheeled her to her own bedroom before walking into her bathroom and returning with bandages and ointment. "Your incisions are already looking marvelous, my Lady." He set the ointment and bandages down before biting the tip of the middle finger of the glove on his right hand and slipped the glove into his pocket, revealing his hands for the first time; they were pale, strong, long, and appearing a little rough, just like the rest of him.
"They really are. Human medicine, though not nearly as miraculous as ours, never quite fails to amaze me. I thought I would die in that warehouse."
"Indeed." The butler knelt down and began applying ointment to the burns and scars on her legs. "Has the funeral been scheduled?"
She blinked down at the man without expression. Witch funerals were much different from human services. "This upcoming weekend." Today was a Sunday. "We will host it at the summer home, as it has a larger ballroom. After that, it's being converted into a college of witchcraft. My parents wanted a collegiate school for witches in the United Kingdom. The closest is in France."
"They would be proud." Carlisle stood and began applying some of the salve onto her wrists, which she held out for him palms down. His skin was surprisingly warm and rough, but his touch was as gentle as a breeze.
"How did you and my parents meet?"
One of the butler's eyebrows raised as he blew some hair out of his face. "They contacted me about replacing your previous butler if the cause should arise."
"He was a good butler. Why were they going to find a replacement?"
"The night your parents died and you were harmed, he failed to save you and them." Anja frowned, growing sad about Damion. He really was excellent, not as intense as his successor. "In a couple of days, you'll be able to let these have air."
"I'll be happy to have the bandages off." She was silent for a few moments as she watched the butler apply new bandages. "Why did they pick you?"
Carlisle shrugged and grinned, looking up at her happily. "I suppose they thought I'd be a killer butler. That's my best guess."