Chapter 9: The Chair Beside the Door

Lucan sat before Winnie reached us with the chair.

He had found a low bench by the wall.

The chair arrived anyway.

"For later," Winnie said.

She put a clean handkerchief over his finger and left us alone.

I sat beside him on the bench.

He looked at the extra chair with weary dislike.

"You don't have to explain it," I said.

"You've seen enough for several explanations."

I waited.

I wanted the truth, but not because his cousin had staged another demand.

Lucan kept the handkerchief closed over his finger.

"I faint at blood," he said.

He looked directly at me while saying it.

I knew what that cost him after watching several days of terrible performance.

"All blood?" I asked.

"Enough of it."

"And the red food?"

He looked down at the cloth.

"It's sometimes easier to remove a resemblance than think about it."

I wanted to laugh at the vanished curtains, not at him.

I smiled carefully.

"Winnie was preparing to lift the carpet."

He laughed first.

It let me laugh too, and we sat together without pretending the bench was a throne.

"You don't need blood to live," I said.

"No."

"Then you could stop staging the rest."

He looked at the doorway where his cousin had gone.

"People expect certain things."

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