Stefan’s Diaries: Origins Chapter 1

The day my conduct changed started out uniform any other. It was a hot August afternoon in 1864, the weather so oppressive that notwithstanding the flies stopped s fightming almost the barn. The servants children, who commonly played wild games and shrieked as they ran from nonpareil chore to another, were silent. The air was still, as if holding off on a long-awaited thunderstorm. Id planned to spend a a few(prenominal) hours travel my horse, Mezzanotte, into the cool forest on the edge of Veritas Estatemy family home. Id packed my satchel with a book and was intent on exclusively escaping.That was what Id been doing most days that summer. I was 17 and restless, ready neither to join the war alongside my brother nor to have get down teach me to run the estate. Every afternoon, I had the comparable hope that several hours of l unmatchedliness would help me figure out who I was and what I wanted to become. My clock at the Boys Academy had ended put up spring, and bree d had made me hold off on enrolling at the Univer moldy of Virginia until the war had ended. Since then, Id been curiously stuck in the in-between. I was no longer a son, not kinda a piece of music, and abruptly unsure of what to do with myself.The worst single out was that I had no champion to piffle to. Damon, my brother, was with General Grooms army down in Atlanta, most of my boyhood friends were either approximately to be betrothed or on far-off battlefields themselves, and tyro was constantly in his study.Gonna be a hot sensation our over look onr, Robert, let out from the edge of the barn, where he was watching 2 static boys attempt to bridle angiotensin converting enzyme of the horses Father had purchased at auction last week.Yep, I grunted. That was another problem part I yearned for someone to talk with, when presented with a conversation partner, I was never confine. What I desperately wanted was to meet someone who could understand me, who could discuss r eal things like books and life, not tho the weather. Robert was nice lavish and one of Fathers most trusted advisers, still he was so loud and highly strung that even a ten-minute conversation could vacate me exhausted.Heard the latest? Robert asked, abandoning the horse to straits toward me. I groaned inwardly.I shook my head. Havent been schooling the papers. Whats General Groom doing now? I asked, even though conversation about the war al fashions left me uneasy.Robert shield his eye from the sun as he shook his head. No, not the war. The animal attacks. The folks over at Griffins lost cardinal chickens. All with gashes in their necks.I paused mid-step, the hairs on the nates of my neck rising on end. All summer, reports of strange animal attacks had emerged from neighbor plantations. Usu completelyy, the animals were small, mostly chickens or geese, but in the past few weeks someonecredibly Robert, after four or quint tumblers of whiskeyhad begun a rumor that the att acks were the rub down of demons. I didnt believe that, but it was one more reminder that the world wasnt the same one Id grown up in. Everything was changing, whether I wanted it to or not.Could have been a stray dog that killed them, I told Robert with an agitated wave of my hand, parroting the words Id overheard Father vocalise to Robert last week. A breeze picked up, do the horses to stomp their feet nervously.Well, then, I hope one of those stray dogs doesnt find you when youre out riding alone like you do all(prenominal) day. With that, Robert strode off toward the pasture.I walked into the cool, dark stalls. The unshakable rhythm of the breathing and snorting of the horses relaxed me instantly. I plucked Mezzanottes brush from the wall and began cockscomb through her smooth, coal-black coat. She whinnied in appreciation. that then, the stable admission creaked open, and Father stepped in. A tall man, Father carried himself with so some(prenominal) force and presence that he good intimidated those who crossed his path. His face was lie with wrinkles that only added to his authority, and he wore a buckram morning coat, despite the heat.Stefan? Father called, glancing around the stalls. Even though hed lived at Veritas for years, hed likely only been in the stable a few times, preferring to have his horses prepared and brought reliable to the door.I ducked out of Mezzanottes stall.Father picked his way toward the venture of the stable. His eyes flicked over me, and I felt suddenly embarrassed for him to see me caked in sweat and dirt. We have stable boys for a reason, son.I know, I said, pure tone as though Id disappointed him.Theres a time and a place for having dramatic play with horses. merely then theres the point when its time for a boy to stop contend and become a man. Father give Mezzanotte on the flanks, hard. She snorted and took a step screening.I prehend my jaw, waiting for him to tell me about how, when he was my age, hed moved to Virginia from Italy with only the habit on his back. How hed fought and bargained to build a tiny, one-acre temporary hookup of land into what was now the two century acres of Veritas Estate. How hed named it that because veritas was Latin for truth, because hed learned that as long as a man because hed learned that as long as a man searched for truth and fought deception, he didnt need anything else in life.Father leaned against the door of the stall. Rosalyn Cartwright just watchd her sixteenth birthday. Shes look for a husband.Rosalyn Cartwright? I repeated. When we were twelve, Rosalyn had gone to a finishing school outside of Richmond, and I hadnt seen her in ages. She was a nondescript little girl with mousy blond hair and brownness eyes in every holding I held of her, she wore a brown dress. Shed never been sunny and laughing, like Clementine Haverford, or flirty and feisty, like Amelia Hawke, or whip-smart and mischievous, like Sarah Brennan. She was entire ly a shadow in the background, content to trail along on all our childhood adventures but never to expand them.Y Rosalyn Cartwright. Father gave me onees. of his old smiles, with the corners of his lips turned so slightly upward, one would infer he was sneering if one did not know him well. Her catch and I have been talking, and it seems the ideal union. Shes always been quite fond of you, Stefan.I dont know if Rosalyn Cartwright and I are a match, I mumbled, depression as though the cool walls of the stable were closing in on me. Of rowing Father and Mr. Cartwright had been talking. Mr. Cartwright owned the bank in town if Father had an alliance with him, it would be easy to expand Veritas even further. And if theyd been talking, it was as good as done that Rosalyn and I were to be man and wife.Of course you dont know, boy Father guffawed, slapping me on the back. He was in remarkably good spirits. My spirits, however, were sinking pass up and lower with each word. I squeeze d my eyes shut, hoping this was all a bad dream. No boy your age knows whats good for him. Thats why you need to trust me. Im arranging a dinner for next week to celebrate the two of you. In the meantime, pay her a call. Get to know her. Compliment her. let her fall in wonder with you. Father finished, taking my hand and pressing a box inside my palm.What about me? What if I dont want her to fall in love with me? I wanted to say. But I didnt. Instead, I shoved the box in my back pocket without glancing at its contents, then went back to attending to Mezzanotte, brushing her so hard, she snorted and stepped back in indignation.Im glad we had this talk, son, Father said. I waited for him to notice that Id barely said a word, to realize that it was absurd to ask me to hook up with a girl I hadnt verbalise to in years.Father? I said, hoping he would say something to set me free from the chance hed laid out for me. I think October would be lovely for a wedding, my father said instead , letting the door overhead shut behind him.I clenched my jaw in frustration. I melodic theme back to our childhood, when Rosalyn and I would find ourselves pushed to sit together at Saturday barbecues and church socials. But the forced socialization simply hadnt worked, and as soon as we were old comme il faut to choose our own playmates, Rosalyn and I went our erupt ways. Our relationship was going to be just as it was when we were ten years jr.ignoring each other while dutifully making our parents happy. Except now, I realized grimly, wed be bound together forever.