Tour de' Hildebrand

After his sobbing episode, it only took Oto a short while to compose himself. It was only once the tears had begun to slow that Giles emerged with a pair of virgin strawberry daiquiris, the boy's favourite summertime drink, and, almost instantly, his blissful personality returned.

Hayami’s candour had taken him by surprise, but after everything they had gone through on the train and their short journey afterward, he had no reason to doubt her honesty. In fact, the way she spoke to him in such an uncouth manner only further solidified how he felt about her. To him, she was a true friend who dared to tell him things that no one other than Giles would.

In a way, while she was not a man, nor well-spoken or polite, and lacking all levels of refinement, she reminded him of Giles. Though in reality, she was nothing like his loyal butler. Still, he had convinced himself that she reminded him of the man in the way that she had been there when he needed it most.

And that had been enough for Oto.

Enough for him to trust her wholly and completely. After all, in a single rant, she had helped him realize that all those whom he had called friends had been taking advantage of him for years. That they had never been interested in him, instead always wanting his things more than his company. But not Hayami. Aside from the ten million dollars, she was perfectly content with him as he was.

Or that was what he convinced himself.

While he still didn’t like it when she called him an idiot or a pretty boy, at least she spoke to him in a way that made him feel something. Something deep within that wasn’t the gossamer-thin feeling of superficial enjoyment he had being around people who expected something of him. And when she spoke his name, her voice firm yet melodic like a choir of angry angels, it had been enough to begin the calming process preceding Giles’ arrival with his treat.

It had been nearly two hours since the whole ordeal, and Oto had decided to take Hayami on an official tour of the villa. They had already worked their way through both the first and second floors and their thirty-five rooms, including the fitness center, home theatre, and full spa. With eager steps, Oto ascended the final set of stairs to the third level.

“Okay, the prayer room I get…I guess—” Hayami asked him as she lagged in his wake. “But why was that last room so creepy?”

She shivered slightly, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the room filled with dolls that they had most recently come from.

“It was not creepy!” He insisted with a wave of his hand. “The dolls are heirlooms, passed down over the generations. They’re French and from a nineteenth-century artisan.”

“They moved and played instruments! I swear, one looked right at me and spoke my name.”

“They’re complex performance pieces, that’s what they do! Do the poors not have dolls?”

“Stop calling—” Hayami grumbled to herself as she reached the top of the stairs. “Hey, pretty boy, stop calling everyone who isn’t you ‘the poors,’ okay?”

“But…” Oto stopped and turned to face his newest friend. “But, why? Isn’t that what they are?”

Hayami rubbed at her face before placing a hand on her hip. With a poke to Oto’s chest, she locked her fierce gaze with his. As she did, he couldn’t help but feel his heart race. When everyone else talked with him, they kept their distance and gazed upon him sweetly. But when Hayami did, it was with the look of a determined hunter, and he was the prey that she had set her eyes on.

“Yeah, to you, because you’re an idi—Oto.”

“Idi…oto?” He replied with a tilt of his head. “Hayami, I don’t speak Portuguese. Regardless, hurry up. I want to show you the organ room!”

Before she could say anything more, Oto had already moved away from her with an excited stroll. Midway across the mezzanine, he halted his pace and turned back to admire her. Hayami was grabbing at her temples, rubbing in firm circles and muttering to herself. Even with a scrunched face and posture slouched into her hand, she was still beautiful. As she finally began to walk his way, he watched as the dress his seamstresses had made flowed around her, swaying with each step as though she were a goddess parting silken clouds with her presence alone.

That was when she suddenly pulled her head from her hands and looked wildly at him.

“Wait, did you say you have a room filled with organs?!”

“Of course, every home needs a pipe organ.” He replied proudly. “Mine is partially built into the cliff and is so large that passing ships can hear it.”

Hayami relaxed after his explanation. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Okay, I understand now—but why is it so big? And why did you need it? That just seems excessive even for a rich, pretty boy.”

“I watched that one movie—what’s the name? Buccaneers of Bermuda, or something of that order? Anyways, I wanted one like the fishy man!”

“That’s not—whatever, just show me your huge organ.” Hayami’s face immediately dropped as her cheeks flushed with colour. “No—that’s not what I meant.”

“What?”

She sighed a breath of relief. His naivety had saved her from the awkward phrasing that any of her father’s goons would have jumped on the minute she said it. In that moment, she realized that Oto had a few benefits that she was not normally accustomed to.

Instead of a moment of sexual tension, he reached out and took her by the hand, pulling her forward. Hayami flinched in response to his eager touch, typically not approving of such an innocent engagement. Instinctively, her fingers threatened to squeeze tight enough to break his delicate grip, but she held back. Instead, she held onto him firmly as he led her down a hall and towards the collection of rooms that made up the southern wing.

It was there that Hayami noticed something that drew her curiosity. An ornate double door, unlike any of the other rooms, appeared down a short side passage. It had antiqued brass knobs and an unusual keyhole, giving it the appearance of something much older than the rest of the house.

Hayami stopped before the curious passage, her grip remaining firm as she nearly yanked Oto off his feet as he came to a sudden stop.

“Yee-aahhh!” He cried out, looking back at the rigid form of the girl. “Why did you stop? We’re not yet in the organ room. And then, after that, I want to show you the aviary on this side of the house! We have seven different species of birds living in this one.”

“What’s in that room?” Hayami asked, ignoring his rambling as she pointed down the short hall. “Looks old.”

“Oh, that? That’s pa-pa’s room—” Oto began to explain before he felt the girl’s hand forcefully clamp down, cracking his knuckles. “Ah, too hard! Too hard, Hayami!”

“That’s…your father’s room? Is—is he in there right now?”

Oto inspected Hayami’s stance as the ferocity he admired returned to her. With narrowed eyes, she stared at the door, inspecting it fully as her breathing slowed. Bashfully, he glanced at her bosom, where he watched it slowly rise and fall with calm, rhythmic breaths.

What he couldn’t expect was that she was eager to come face to face with the man whom this entire charade had been devised. The man who was the real target of her father and who, if she could kill him with her own two hands, maybe she could exchange for freedom and anonymity.

But Oto didn’t know this. He could only imagine that she was anxious to meet his father, such a rich and powerful man. After all, the boy still thought of Hayami as an impoverished stranger with a proclivity for violence. So, gently tugging her hand forward, he smiled her way.

“He’s always home, but very busy. Come, let me see if pa-pa is free to take visitors.”

Walking up to the door, Oto cleared his throat before gently rapping a knuckle on the door. He gave three firm knocks that echoed down the hall before he stood silently in wait.

A moment passed before he knocked again.

“Pa-pa, it is Oto!” He announced, gently rocking from heel to toe.

With a glance over to Hayami, her glare was fixated on the door. That was, until she noticed him looking at her, at which point she adjusted her gaze to him. Delivering a smile, he stared into her eyes before going back to the door once more.

“Pa-pa, I have a friend I’d like you to meet. Miss Hayami…oh, drats, I’ve never learned your last name.”

“Hayami is fine.”

He nodded and continued. “Miss Hayami Isfine.”

“Oh, my God,” Hayami whispered with a deep sigh beside him, deflated slightly. "So stupid."

He could see that ferocity in her eyes falter as she looked to him with a scowl. Opening his mouth to address the shift, he stopped short of speaking as a faint latch clicked, and the door began to swing outward. The person who emerged was not the mob boss that either had expected. But instead, it was the butler who had found his way up to the room while they had been exploring.

“Oh, Young Master—Miss,” Giles spoke, giving a slight bow. “Please forgive me, but the Master is currently occupied with business.”

“That’s pa-pa for you, always busy,” Oto replied, looking to Hayami. “Maybe another time. You see, pa-pa runs the South Harbour docks and is quite the busy man. Such is the life of a harbourmaster, I suppose.”

“A harbourmaster?” She scrutinized his reaction disbelievingly before glancing back to the room. “He makes all this off being a harbourmaster?”

But before she could get a good look at the study beyond, Giles had already closed the door. Her eyes met his equally investigative and menacing glance.

“Master Hildebrand has an extensive portfolio.” He replied to her without missing a beat as a peeved look crossed his face. “As the Young Master has said, this leaves him with little time for hobnobbing.”

With that, the butler turned away from Hayami and directed his attention to Oto. Delivering a slight bow, he politely continued.

“Young Master Oto, yours and Miss Hayami’s afternoon tea will be served at the top of the hour in the north-eastern pergola. Your afternoon outfits have already been laid out for you in your rooms.”

“Afternoon outfit?!” Hayami gasped in reply, looking down at her dress. “I’m fine. This is fine.”

“Oh, no, no—” Oto replied, “That look is much too late morning for afternoon tea. The rich change at least four times a day. Now, let’s get dressed! It’s time for tea, Hayami!”