O0o 27 Sounding Ou

The manor wasn't haunted, was it? Jules had never seen a ghost, but that meant exactly nothing. It wasn't like he'd had much opportunity to travel.

"You're very strong," Charles said quietly as Halian lowered him to a chair. "Strong as a werewolf."

Hal eyed Charles. "I'm not a werewolf."

"No, you aren't," Charles agreed. "I saw you touching the silver tray yesterday."

Jules felt an odd tension in the room, now. Hal and Charles were staring at each other openly. Jules didn't see a challenge or insult, but the two alphas measured each other a little.

"The Novar name is very old," Charles said. "Older than the Calamity. Your parents own a lot of land and ocean. Fishermen clan?"

Hal nodded. "Yes, originally and in modern function. We have our hands in many ventures and avenues of commerce, though."

Charles bowed his head. "I believed I served with a Novar," he said thoughtfully. "Bright young man, dark hair, blue eyes... Looked like you, a little. What was his name? Adric? Adron?"

"Adirion Novar," Halian said. "My mother's second cousin. He's a tradesman now. Fighting against the Mevedevak took all interest in warfare out of him."

"Your mother is the Novar?" Charles asked.

"And my father. They are distantly related. The only way they could have alpha children." Hal tugged on the bell pull. "There are many different Novar clans scattered all over the world. My parents are the most influential, though."

Charles nodded, and relaxed backward, looking as if he felt relieved.

Alisha came in, and bowed. "Yes, Master Novar?"

"Will you tell Felix to bring his medical bag down here?" Halian asked. "Also, has Mr. Remington's room been tidied?"

"I was about to clean it, sir," she said. "I will do so directly after relaying your message."

"Thank you, Alisha," Hal said.

"Much nicer than that stuffed s.h.i.+rt of a butler you have," Charles muttered. "The fellow needs his a.s.s kicked."

"That was the St. Veras butler. My own butler threw him out on his ear. My apologies for his rude behavior. We've had an influx of servants, and things haven't been ironed out yet." Hal ran his hand through Jules's hair twice, and it served to settle Jules's nerves slightly.

"You absorbed St. Veras' staff after putting his estate to ruin," Charles murmured. "Word around the town is it was a revenge thing."

"He ruined your son's back with an ox whip," Halian said. "Jules almost died."

The words fell out, flat and hard. Charles shuddered, his eyes drawn to Jules.

"Boy, I'm sorry. If I hadn't..."

"You can't do anything about it now," Halian said. "Try to get to know Jules. He wants that."
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Jules watched his father's eyes flare a little brighter with hope before dimming back down to sadness.

A scratching came at the door. Ruto had discovered them gone and tracked them. Halian got up and let him in. Sphinx bounded in with him, immediately leaping up to Halian's shoulder as Ruto happily zeroed in on Jules.

"Jules's dog and cat," Hal said. "They protect him. Well, Ruto does. Sphinx will when she gets older."

"That's a lynx," Charles said. "I thought they'd mostly died out."

"There's a population of them here, where winter tends to be colder, and the snow hares are abundant." Halian stroked the cat, smiling when she leaned into his hand. "They depend upon the hares, you know. If the hares die out, so do the lynx. Every few years, I trap a few hares and let them breed. I set them out into the woods, then."

Charles winced a bit. "That's harsh. They start off as pets and end up as lunch."

"We keep cattle, among other things," Halian pointed out. "I'm responsible for the maintenance of this land, these woods. When my ancestors lived here, they had to kill an entire clan of werewolves. Would you like to see their trophies?"

At that moment, Felix strolled through the open door, bag in hand. "Who's sick?" He asked.

"Jules's father, Charles," Hal informed.

Felix narrowed his eyes on Jules's father. "So?"

"Please, see what you can do for him, Felix," Hal asked. "It's important to Jules."

Felix nodded stiffly. He set his bag down, and motioned for Charles to get up. "Face the window so I can see your eyes better," he ordered.

Charles did as told. Felix had a long look at Charles's face.

"I can't be cured," Charles said quietly.

"Let me be the judge of that," Felix muttered. "Who diagnosed you, and with what?"

"Doctor Vernor, and he said I have syphilis." Charles reported.

"You don't," Felix contradicted. "You have advanced alcoholism, and it's squeezing your liver. Quit drinking, and you might live a few more years as-is." Felix reached into his bag and pulled out a little bottle. "This is a system cleanser. Tomorrow, drink only water and this. One spoonful into a cup, and add boiling water."

Charles, speechless, stood there with his mouth open, bottle in hand, as Felix snapped his bag latch.

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Jules felt a surge of relief. He hadn't wanted his dad to die. He stood, taking the water pitcher from the table and pouring it over first one fan and then the other, almost smiling but too raw yet. He nearly put the fire out, pouring into the fireplace, but he didn't care.

"Jules?" Charles asked.

"Don't disturb him for a few moments, Remington," Hal advised. "He's taking the mourning characters off his fans. He put them on this morning to show shame and loss."

"If that's all you need, my telling the wretch he has more time to make up for his grievous mistreatment of Jules, I'll go," Felix said. "I'll meet you for tea upstairs at seven, Jules!"

Jules waved to him.