Ch14. Where he belongs

"Hey, what's wrong? Why... Why are you crying Alma...?" Johan asked, frowning.

Immediately, he took a step towards the kind lady.

At the same instant, all the servants flinched, including Alma.

Johan froze in place, looking at everyone with a mix of bewilderment and shock.

He took another step, then another, and another, finally approaching Alma, who no longer had just one tear.

Now she was crying profusely.

"Hey..." Johan called carefully and softly. "It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong."

"No... That's not it... Mr. Vaughn." The lady replied. "It's just..." When Alma looked at Johan, there was a glint of nostalgia behind the tears. "You were still a child, the last time you wanted to eat with the servants... When your father... Don't you remember...?"

Johan took Alma's face in his hands, thinking about each of the reactions he had experienced there in that kitchen.

With an expression of pure shock, Johan began to question Erick's true nature, who, despite clearly being a crook, still had a lot in him that Johan didn't know.

'Does this guy...'

"My father isn't here anymore, Alma..." Johan replied with a slight smile. "It's okay, and not all the guests have arrived. I would like to eat with you, if that's okay with you..."

After a few more moments, the atmosphere in the kitchen seemed to lighten a little, with all the servants finishing preparations for dinner, and Alma finally serving Johan a deep plate, full of that rich, thick meat stew, with cheese and a thick slice of bread to go with it, while she herself sat next to Johan, carrying a slightly shallower plate, but with the same accompaniments.

"Would you like some juice to go with it, Mr. Vaughn?" Alma asked. "I'm sure all that wine will make you thirsty later..."

"Please, Alma. To be honest..." Johan laughed. "I don't even like wine that much."

The truth is that Johan had never actually drunk wine. Only that cheap, alcoholic grape juice they sold in convenience stores, and only when he had a victory worth celebrating in his routine days.

Alma poured a large glass, filled with rich, colorful, thick orange juice.

Johan ate, under the studious and careful gaze of Alma, who also ate, but let most of her attention wander to the hunger with which Erick devoured the plate of stew and the slice of bread, dipping the bread in the thick broth of the soup. cooked, and putting it in your mouth, chewing, and swallowing.

As if that dish was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life, despite all the fancy restaurants he had frequented throughout his life.

"Mister Vaughn..." Alma called. "Are you... OK?"

"I'm great!" Johan replied, smiling, as he cleaned the plate with the last piece of bread. "Why do you ask, Alma?"

The kind lady studied Johan with her brown eyes.

Johan felt like he was being watched by a grandmother, carefully analyzing how thin her grandson was, thinking he needed more food.

"Nothing... You just look... Different."

Johan looked at Alma for a few moments before responding.

"Different... Yeah, I guess you could say I look different..." Lingering for a moment, Johan continued. "These last six months have made me think a lot. You know what it's like, right, putting life in perspective and everything... Besides..." Johan touched his own hair and showed the stitches on the top of his forehead . "Some things really make us think about what's important..."

"Ah my God, my dear..." It was Alma's turn to take Johan's face in her hands, making him lean down several centimeters until he reached the sweet lady's studious brown eyes.

Johan didn't notice, but with that simple gesture, all the servants watching the scene seemed to hold their breath, filled with a dark and frightening uncertainty.

"I still don't understand why you... Why you, Mr. Vaughn, decided to travel without your bodyguards... But you need to be more careful. This family would be nothing if you died... "

Johan studied the lady's eyes for a few moments and, wiping away one last tear that was still damp on her cheek, he said.

"You're too kind to someone like me..."

Johan knew almost nothing about Erick's past or history, but the reactions of everyone there left him in no doubt.

He needed to say something to redeem Erick from the ominous ghost that his memories represented to those people.

'If I'm going to have five years to live here, I better be loved by the right people, at least.'

The kitchen door opened with a bang, and then, Claudius Clifford's voice echoed, full of angry discontent.

"What are you doing here, Erick?" And, looking at all the servants, who watched in shock, Clifford's arrival, the handsome young blond man continued. "And what are you looking at? Don't you have to finish the preparations for dinner? Or do I need to make an example of someone, so that this nonsense doesn't happen again?"

Only then did Claudius notice the scene unfolding between Erick and Alma.

Eyes wide, boiling with anger, Claudius strode closer to the two.

"Erick... What are you doing here? The guests are waiting, and you know that the head of the family doesn't belong in the... Kitchen."

The tone Claudius used to say the last word was drenched in disdain.

"Come on, we have more important things to attend to tonight." Claudius finished, putting his arm over his childhood friend's shoulder.

"Uh... Right. Alma-"

"Stop talking to the servants, brother! They're not people..." Claudius said, turning his face towards the sweet lady and casting a vicious look in her direction.

Johan let out an almost inaudible sigh, and turning his head towards the head servant, he gave her an apologetic, almost pleading look, hoping that she would understand.

And taking Claudius's arm off his shoulders, Johan followed him out of the kitchen.

In the corridor that led to the luxurious dining room, Johan suddenly stopped, looking at Claudius.

"What's wrong, brother?"

Johan had never felt anything like this in his life, and at that moment, the character he was trying so hard to work on, for the first time since the beginning of the journey there, became perfect.

"Tell me something, brother..." Johan's gaze glared at Claudius with an almost blind anger. "Are you the owner of this house?"

Claudius blinked several times, not understanding.

"Uh... I beg you pardon?"

Johan lingered for a second, before continuing speaking.

Deciding how to respond, he poked Claudius in the chest.

"I asked if you are the owner of this house."

Speechless because of Johan's sudden outrage, young Clifford just shook his head.

Johan nodded, withdrawing his finger.

"Good. So from now on, remember one thing..." And, heading towards the dining room, he finished. "You are not the one who decides how to treat my servants. Especially Alma. Are we clear?"

Johan didn't notice the murderous gleam in Claudius's eyes as he responded.

"Yes, Mr. Vaughn..."