Capítulo 37: Meeting with a Capulet
An hour later, Evangeline sat gracefully at the garden gazebo, her eyes following the gentle sway of leaves in the breeze. The late morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the finely sculpted hedges. Her attendant approached quietly, serving her a delicate cup of tea. Evangeline accepted it with a nod of thanks, her thoughts already wandering as she awaited the arrival of the merchant she was expecting. A few guards stood at a respectful distance, their presence more for formality than necessity.
Lost in her reverie, Evangeline absentmindedly twirled the tea cup in her hand, watching the ripples disturb the surface of the amber liquid. She caught a stray leaf in her palm as it drifted by, then released it with a sigh, sending it back to join the others in the air.
"Good morning, Lady Evangeline," a voice called, breaking the tranquility. She turned to see the gem collector she had been expecting—a young man, likely in his mid-twenties, with brown hair and a height that slightly overshadowed her. He had arrived with several assistants, each carrying boxes. The man's name was Eugene, a name familiar to her, as he hailed from a wealthy family and was a distant relative of Prince George.
Eugene paused, taking in the sight of Evangeline—her poised elegance, the way the sunlight highlighted her features. His admiration for her was clear, though unspoken. *Prince George's relative is truly beautiful,* Eugene thought, an idea slipping into his mind. *Perhaps she could be mine, if circumstances allowed.*
Evangeline's voice snapped him out of his musings. "I believe George sent you here today," she said, her fingers lightly tapping the handle of her tea cup.
"Yes, my lady," Eugene replied, bowing his head slightly in respect. "He spoke highly of your knowledge of gemstones." There was a slight pause before he added, almost apologetically, "Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. My name is Eugene, and I am hoping to purchase some stones from your collection."
Evangeline's lips curved into a small smile. "Ah, Eugene. George did mention that your family possesses some rather remarkable stones. I've been eager to see if they might be of use to me."
Eugene chuckled softly, more out of nervousness than amusement. "It would be my honor, my lady, to exchange such treasures with you."
"Would you care for some tea, Mr. Eugene?" she asked, gesturing to an empty cup resting on the table.
Eugene's cheeks flushed slightly. "Thank you, my lady, but I must decline. I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for tea at the moment," he replied, glancing away for a brief moment as if embarrassed by his own response.
Evangeline gave a light nod, her attention already shifting. "Very well. Let me take you to the house inventory, where we can weigh the stones." She finished her tea with a graceful sip, then placed the cup back on its tray before standing.
Eugene rose as well, ready to follow her when he noticed a man approaching. The man walked with confidence, and, to Eugene's surprise, he reached for Evangeline's hand with ease, as if it were a familiar gesture.
*Who is this man? Could he be her husband? No... I don't think so. A lover, perhaps?* Eugene's mind raced, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the scene.
"Apologies for keeping you waiting, Evangeline," the man said, brushing his lips lightly against her hand. "I hope I'm not too late."
Evangeline laughed softly, her tone playful. "No, Richard, you're just in time. I was about to take this gentleman to the inventory. You can join us if you'd like."
Richard, a striking figure with an air of authority, turned his gaze toward Eugene. "I see. Well then, let's go." With that, he took Evangeline's hand, guiding her forward, her guards following closely behind.
Eugene, feeling slightly out of place but determined to remain composed, followed the pair, his mind still replaying the brief interaction between Evangeline and Richard. His assistants trailed behind, each carrying the valuable boxes. He cast one last glance at the two walking ahead of him, suspicion creeping into his thoughts. *What is the nature of their relationship?* Eugene wondered, gripping his chin thoughtfully. *And where do I fit into all of this?*
As they arrived at the inventory, the guards standing by the entrance straightened and nodded respectfully toward Evangeline. With a subtle gesture, they opened the large wooden doors, revealing the vast interior. Evangeline stepped inside gracefully, and the others followed, including Richard and Eugene. The house's jewel department was part of the inventory, which served as a repository for the family's most valuable possessions.
The room exuded the cold, sterile atmosphere of wealth. Shelves lined with meticulously placed items reflected a lifetime of collected treasures. Medals, ancient weapons, and heirlooms glittered under the light of grand chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A glass display in one corner encased her late father's military uniform, the fabric pristine, standing as a silent testament to the family's legacy. The room felt like a museum, designed to preserve history and protect the wealth of the Sarogaths.
As they entered, the jewelers who managed the collection stood in respectful silence, positioned in various spots, each bowing slightly to Evangeline. Richard and Eugene both looked around, their eyes widening at the impressive collection of valuables on display.
"The *Heart of the Deep Blue Sea* necklace might be in here somewhere... I'll have to find it eventually, even if I don't plan on taking it," Richard mused quietly, his gaze scanning the room.
Eugene, on the other hand, was quietly captivated. *This is astonishing,* he thought, admiring the wealth around him. *Lady Evangeline is truly something—her family is on a different level.*
Evangeline moved with confidence, walking toward a well-sculpted stone boulder that stood at the center of the room, its surface smooth and cold, with a wooden lever attached. Beside it, a safe lock mechanism gleamed in the low light. Typing in the passcode with practiced precision, she gripped the wooden lever and, with a slight grunt, pulled it. "Mmmph," she muttered under her breath as the hidden gears beneath the floor began to grind. The sound of heavy metal clicking and shifting filled the room. Slowly, sections of the floor moved, rotating until a set of boxes appeared from beneath, each bearing the Sarogath family seal.
Evangeline withdrew her hand from the lever and clapped, signaling to the jewelers. "Bring me the boxes from the columns I mentioned earlier," she commanded. The jewelers sprang into action, retrieving the boxes as instructed. They placed them before Eugene and Richard, and upon Evangeline's nod, they opened them simultaneously, revealing the gleam of polished stones nestled within.
Eugene's breath hitched as he took in the sight. The quality was beyond anything he had imagined. The stones shimmered under the light, their cuts flawless, their colors deep and vibrant. A blush crept up his face as he realized just how remarkable Evangeline's judgment was. *She's an extraordinary woman,* he thought, his admiration for her growing as he glanced at her. *Beautiful, intelligent...*
Richard, too, studied the stones, his hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. "These are of remarkable quality. Stones like these are hard to come by nowadays," he mused, impressed by the rarity of what lay before them.
Eugene cleared his throat, eager to proceed. "Ahem... Your Grace, shall we weigh them now?" he asked, gesturing toward the stones.
Evangeline smiled, a knowing glint in her eye. "Of course, Mr. Eugene," she replied. Clapping her hands once more, she ordered the jewelers to bring forth the weighing machine. They moved quickly, and within minutes, a grand scale was wheeled into the room—a fine piece of equipment with brass weights and a polished metal balance, typical of early 20th-century craftsmanship. The weighing machine stood tall and sturdy, its ornate carvings and gleaming metal giving it an air of authority.
The jewelers began weighing the stones meticulously. As the numbers rolled into place, the results were impressive: 100 kilograms, 150 kilograms, and 80 kilograms. The weight alone was enough to make both Richard and Eugene's eyes widen in disbelief.
*The Sarogaths' family mine must be incredibly rich to produce stones of this size and quality,* Eugene thought, his mind wandering. *And then there's the fabled *Heart of the Deep Blue Sea* necklace...* He had heard stories of the legendary piece—passed down through generations, supposedly gifted to Evangeline's grandmother. He wasn't even sure if it still existed. *Seeing that necklace in person would be... an experience.*
Evangeline smiled knowingly as she lifted the 100-kilogram stone with surprising ease, turning it over in her hands as if testing its weight. "Well, Mr. Eugene," she said with a playful glint in her eyes, placing her hand on her hip, "how much do you wish to purchase?"
Without missing a beat, Eugene responded coolly, "Thirty billion."
Richard's head snapped up at the sound of the sum. "Thirty billion?" he muttered, rubbing his chin in astonishment. "That's... quite the offer." He shook his head, trying to grasp the enormity of the figure. Even for a family as wealthy as his, the price was astounding.
Evangeline chuckled softly, clearly unfazed. "Agreed." She handed the stone to one of the jewelers before turning back to Eugene. "Now, let's see what you have to offer. George spoke highly of you, and since this is our first meeting, I'm curious about your collection." She interlaced her gloved fingers, the soft fabric stretching over her delicate hands.
Eugene's gaze lingered on her fingers for a moment too long. *She's remarkable,* he thought, his heart pounding. *Every move she makes is so graceful.* For a moment, he found it difficult to concentrate, lost in the elegance of her presence. But with a quick blink, he gathered himself, preparing to present his stones, eager to impress Evangeline and prove himself worthy of her attention.
Back at Eardoznia, Dominic sat at the lodge bar, his fingers rhythmically tapping on the edge of his wine glass. He casually observed the patrons, some of whom passed by him, whispering about the morning's news. Dominic glanced down at the newspaper in front of him, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. "Now that I'm becoming quite the name in Eardoznia, even at the café, I need to tread carefully. The Capulets could be watching—anyone here, even the staff, could be one of their eyes," he murmured to himself, sipping his wine slowly. The air around him was filled with a calculated calmness, his mind always working beneath his polished exterior.
Dominic's thoughts drifted to Evangeline and the letter he had sent her. "I doubt she'll respond," he mused, leaning back in his chair, his smirk widening. "But I had to get under her skin... on purpose." He chuckled softly to himself, knowing he had struck a nerve. Teasing Evangeline had been part of his plan, testing her composure while subtly flaunting his control over the situation.
Pouring another glass of wine, Dominic's expression darkened slightly. "For the past three days, I've delved into research on the Capulets," he thought, his mind sharpening like a blade. "They're worse than I expected. Their obsession with hair color... shutting down companies that dared to sell strawberry blonde dye. It's almost fanatical." He recalled reading about their strict family policies, especially the mysterious control they wielded over anything related to their distinctive looks.
He took another sip, his eyes narrowing. "They're worse than my father in their methods," Dominic thought grimly. His father, Victor, was known for many things, but the Capulets seemed to operate on a different level—silent, controlling, and ruthless. "As for their alleged crimes… I need to see the truth for myself before I make any conclusions."
His fingers lightly brushed the rim of his glass as he considered his next moves. Dominic wasn't one to be caught off guard. He knew his growing presence in Eardoznia, might provoke a response from the Capulets. They were dangerous, that much was clear. But Dominic, with his elegant charm and calculated mind, was prepared for the games they might play. In fact, he welcomed it.
Sighing heavily, Dominic took another sip of his wine, his eyes gleaming with both caution and amusement. "I'll have to be even more careful now," he thought, but a part of him was already looking forward to what lay ahead.
Suddenly, a man with striking silver-white hair sat across from Dominic, his beauty similar Dominic's own. Dominic felt his presence immediately but didn't make any unecessary move such as flinching because he fears nobody. Instead, he took another sip of his wine, his movements slow and deliberate, exuding an effortless elegance. As he turned to face the man, Dominic's eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto his guest, who offered a polite smile.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dominic Brusward. Your achievements are... quite remarkable," the man said with a soft chuckle, attempting to match Dominic's unbothered demeanor.
Dominic's gaze remained steady, piercing. "Have we met before? Perhaps at a previous gathering?" he asked coolly, his voice measured. His eyes, sharp as blades, bore into the man's, causing him to falter momentarily. Dominic's gaze was unsettling, almost predatory in its intensity, a trait inherited from both his father Victor. The man's hands clenched beneath the table, a subtle attempt to hide his discomfort.
"His eyes... they remind me of Marie, but his presence, his gaze... it's far more overwhelming than Victor's. A killer's instinct, no doubt,He looks a lot like Marie" the man thought, trying to maintain composure as a slight smile tugged at his lips. "What meeting is he talking about?"
"Oh, forgive my rudeness. I haven't introduced myself. My name is Oliver... I'm an admirer of your status, Mr. Dominic," Oliver said, clearing his throat nervously. He mentally kicked himself for withholding his surname, knowing it would complicate things further. "Thank goodness I didn't mention my last name," he thought, noting the eerie resemblance between Dominic and his mother.
Dominic gave a faint smile, his eyes flickering with intrigue. "Oliver? A good name. I appreciate your admiration," he said smoothly, tilting his head ever so slightly, the motion delicate and graceful. As he smiled, the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "This man is no simple admirer," Dominic mused. He recognized Oliver's face immediately from the old family photo Caleb had once shown him during their research into his mother's origins. "So, he's one of them... Oliver Capulet."
The realization washed over him like a cool wave, but Dominic kept his demeanor relaxed. "The Capulets are quicker than I expected. They didn't approach me when I first arrived, but now that I've gained some attention, they're making their move. I'll have to play along... for now," Dominic thought, swirling his wine glass with casual elegance, masking the tension beneath his poised exterior.
"You're welcome, Dominic," Oliver continued, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I'd like to get to know you better. Would you be open to that?"
Dominic raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smirk. "No doubt he's fishing for information," Dominic thought, his mind already working through the possibilities. "Sure... no problem," he said, his voice smooth as velvet. "By the way, your hair... it's quite beautiful."
Oliver stiffened at the unexpected compliment but quickly tried to hide his surprise. Dominic let out a small, knowing scoff, seeing through Oliver's attempt to remain composed. "Even without a surname, I know exactly who you are," Dominic thought, recalling the old family photo that had confirmed his suspicions. His smile widened ever so slightly, but the coldness in his eyes remained.
"Thank you... I was born with it," Oliver replied, stroking his hair, trying to maintain his cool.
Dominic's gaze hardened, the smile fading. "I know," he said, the words laced with chilling undertones as he took a slow sip of his drink.
Oliver blinked, taken aback by the bluntness. "You... what?" he asked, his hands clenching under the table. "This boy has some nerve," he thought, gritting his teeth.
"Nothing," Dominic replied smoothly, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "I just said I know it's beautiful." His tone was manipulative, a verbal sleight of hand, and the subtle shift in his expression was designed to disarm Oliver. He then added casually, "Be careful. The Capulets might burn your hair for sporting it so boldly."
The remark sent a wave of uncertainty through Oliver. "He's lying... there's no sincerity in that compliment," Oliver thought, though he couldn't shake the feeling that Dominic might know more than he was letting on. Clearing his throat, Oliver reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, elegant box. Opening it, he revealed a stunning stone, its surface shimmering in the dim light of the bar. He pushed it toward Dominic.
"This is for you... a gift," Oliver said, watching Dominic's reaction carefully. "I reward those who do good things." His hand rested on his chin as he observed Dominic, hoping to test his greed. "A Brusward won't resist something of this value," he thought hoping to bait Dominic into revealing greed or weakness. "They'll always take what they desire, even if they pretend not to."
Dominic glanced at the stone, his expression unreadable. "He's testing me," he thought. "This is too calculated, too convenient. I won't fall into his trap.This stone isn't a gift; it's a test. If I take it, he'll use it against me, and I'll lose my edge."
With a slow, graceful motion, Dominic stood, picking up his newspaper. His tall, elegant frame drew the attention of those passing by, including a group of girls who giggled, admiring both him and Oliver.
"They look alike. Are they brothers? They're so beautiful," one of the girls whispered.
"The one on the left is way more beautiful," the other girl said, gesturing to Dominic. Oliver's gaze darkened as he glared at them, causing the girls to scurry away.
Dominic ignored the exchange, his focus remaining on Oliver. "Apologies, Oliver, but I must decline your generous gift," he said, his voice smooth, but with a hint of coldness." I can't accept it for Confidential reasons. Besides, I have plenty of these back home." He gave a slight, knowing smile before adding, "I'm not from here, after all. I came here to attend to some matters, While I understand your generosity, I have no need for it. I possess far more valuable gemstones back home as a jewel dealer," Dominic lied smoothly, his voice dripping with charm and some truth.
Without another word, Dominic turned, his movements fluid and graceful, as though he had never been phased by the encounter. As he walked away, his voice trailed behind him, "I hope we meet again, Oliver." And with that, he vanished out of sight, leaving Oliver staring after him, fists clenched.
"He's a jewel dealer?" Oliver muttered under his breath, his frustration growing. "That doesn't make sense. Any dealer would want this stone... something's off." He scowled, interlacing his fingers tightly. "No matter. The maid will get that lock of hair. Mother has spies here with me. I'll get what I need soon enough." But Dominic's parting words echoed in his mind, leaving him unsettled. "And what meeting was he talking about?"
Dominic arrived at his room and immediately noticed a maid inside, cleaning the floor. He didn't pay much attention at first, nodding to the guards who greeted him as he entered. The maid, having finished her task, discreetly placed the cleaning cloth into a trash bag she'd brought with her. She offered Dominic a respectful nod before attempting to leave.
Just as she reached the door, Dominic paused, his sharp instincts kicking in. "Wait," he said calmly, yet firmly. The maid froze in place, her body tensing as she felt his presence approach. Dominic moved toward her slowly, his gaze locked on her, making her bow her head to avoid meeting his eyes.
"Something's off. My room was already cleaned this morning. She could be a spy, sent to gather information or... something else," Dominic thought, weighing the situation. However, he wasn't one to act rashly. He continued walking toward the bedside drawer, his movements deliberate and smooth, as if controlling every element of the moment. Opening it, he retrieved some cash and handed it to the maid, maintaining his usual composed demeanor.
"Here," he said, offering her the money with a slight smile, masking any suspicion. "Thank you for your hard work. You can go."
The maid hesitated briefly, then accepted the money with a trembling hand, thanking him profusely before hurrying out of the room.
As the door closed behind her, Dominic leaned back against the dresser, eyes narrowing. "She was nervous... too nervous. Could she be one of the Capulets' spies? Or perhaps Eric's overboard way of compensating me for my stay?" he mused, letting out a quiet chuckle. "Eric always tries too hard to impress."
Dominic sighed, shaking his head as he walked over to the window, staring out at the view. His thoughts returned to the possibility that his room was being monitored. "I'll have to tread carefully. It wouldn't be surprising if the Capulets planted someone here. The timing is suspicious," he thought, rubbing his chin.
He glanced at the clock. Caleb should be finishing the tasks Dominic had assigned him soon. He couldn't afford any missteps with the Capulets watching so closely.
Meanwhile, the maid who had originally cleaned Dominic's room earlier that morning stood in the hallway, watching as the other maid exited Dominic's quarters. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across her face. "So, the Capulets are meddling, sending another maid to that man's room? What are they up to?" she thought angrily, her hands clenching into fists.
"Doesn't matter. I already found the hair he wanted," she smirked, thinking about the reward she would receive for her effort. "One way or another, I'll get paid."
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