a-ii

[ The vision of the memory may fade, but Felix remains transfixed with dull horror where he stands. He swallows harshly, throat bone dry. Though he’d heard rumors about Count Varley – hushed whispers spoken behind hands as classmates gossiped – he doubts anyone could have predicted the extent of the man’s cruelty. Felix may be no stranger to a father’s delusional expectations, but this memory makes his childhood seem a veritable paradise of love and acceptance. Sick with a quiet rage that simmers just below boiling, he reigns in his temper before Bernadetta mistakes its source and target. ]

Bernadetta, [ he begins as gently as he can, not approaching her just yet. ] You’re okay now. He’s not here.

[ And if he were, Felix knows he’d be in line to take the man’s head clean off his shoulders. ]