Bluest of Bloods

The next morning, Chloe harshly woke to railroad spikes being driven into his eyes, splitting his skull wide open. At least that is how it felt when Sheffield threw open the curtains to his overly girly room. “Good morning, Miss Chloe.” He shouted. “I trust you slept well?”

“Hnn no. Go away.” He groaned, pulling the covers over his head. The covers were quickly snatched from his hands as Sheffield stripped the bed. “What the hell are y-”

“It is laundry day, young Miss.” His words like bricks thrown against Chloe’s face, “Might as well start with the linens since I am here.” He lifted one side of Chloe’s mattress with great ease, rolling him onto the floor. Even though, unlike the rest of the manor, it was covered in pink carpet it was still too much pain in Chloe’s current condition.

“What if I’d been naked!”

“A lady does not sleep in the buff.” He said as he folded up the sheets and covers before walking out and handing them to a waiting maid doing her best to blend into the background as instructed. “Now, you have already slept in later than you should. So do not dawdle in the bath or you will miss breakfast again. In the interest of time I have taken the liberty of laying out your clothes.”

“Great. Thanks.” Chloe coughed. Through blurry vision he examined himself and…somehow he had the presence of mind to at least change back into his night clothes before getting into bed. Pulling the nightgown away he saw he still wore the same bra, and no doubt the same panties and breast forms as well. ‘All things considered. Not bad.’ He shrugged. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the massive amount of light in the room, he found a glass of ice water and two aspirin both of which he downed quickly. As his consciousness returned he wondered how did he get into his room? As if searching for the answer he glanced around the room and noticed Sheffield had left as well as something oddly out of place in his overly girly closet.

There in the corner of the closet, almost hidden completely, was Spencer’s leather jacket. Chloe took the jacket out of the closet and took it off of the hanger. He sat on his overly soft and girly bed, clutching the leather jacket in his manicured and painted nails as he tried to recall what happened last night? He had gotten cold and Spencer had given him his jacket while they hid out from…and then… that stupid boy kissed him! Chloe threw the jacket onto his bed and ran into his bathroom and threw up once more.

After scrubbing his body clean for the third time and brushing his teeth at least a dozen times, paying special attention to his tongue. He had taken a much longer time than he intended to get ready so that by the time he reached the dining table he knew he wouldn’t be getting anything to eat again. "I see you are dressed much more appropriately this morning.” She said as she took in the girl’s state of dress. Chloe wore a knit long sleeve cardigan, soft pink plaid a-line skirt with matching pink mary-janes that Sheffield had laid out for him.

“Thank you…Grandmother.” Chloe sat in the chair across from his fake grandmother, forcing himself to sit up straight when all he wanted to do was bury his head in his hands. "I'm sorry I’m late, Grandmother." He said softly, keeping his eyes down, to block out some of the early morning light and nervously twirled the cross necklace at the end of the pearl necklace in between his fingers.

Beatrice nodded, “I see your manners are improving as well.” She reminded herself that she needed to compliment Chloe more, as per her wager with Sheffield, “Do you remember my rule?"

Chloe nodded with a heavy sigh. “Can I be excused?” He asked as he stood, remembering the etiquette Sheffield and Beatrice had thus far drilled into his head. This morning, if nothing else, reminded him he needed to leave as soon as possible and get back to his real life.

Beatrice's face softened for a moment as she stared at the younger girl frowning across from her. She very nearly dismissed her from the table when she remembered her wager with Sheffield. He had postulated that if she were to “take it easy” on Chloe she would get better results out of the girl. It sounded like another form of coddling to her, but she would of course prove him wrong. A souffle was on the line after all! “If you wish to be dismissed from the table then you ask, ‘May I be excused?’” Beatrice corrected. “And you may be excused. We will begin your lessons in fifteen minutes. I’ll remind you that being tardy will only give you less time for activities you find relaxing or entertaining.”

Chloe shrugged with a frown, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes and simply muttered, “Okay, Grandmother.” and walked away from the table, stopping at the entryway. “Wai-Pardon?" He quickly corrected himself, "Lessons?”

“Yes. It is important for a successful future that you become a well-rounded woman.”

“Lessons in what exactly?”

“In addition to your daily elocution lessons, grace and poise exercises, we will be furthering your growth with vocal and classical training as well.”

The polite smile he had been forcing wavered. He wanted nothing more than to curse and scream that he didn’t need any of that, even if he was a girl. “...f-fine.” he rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room, his two inch block heels clacking loudly across the floor with every step.

Beatrice frowned, “She is quite sullen this morning.” She paused only to take a drink of her tea.

“In fairness, Mum, she has been in a state of distemper since she came to live here.”

Beatrice sat her cup down onto the small saucer plate, "Perhaps." She watched Mark, quietly finishing his eggs, without so much as glancing up in concern.

“I will keep an eye on her, ma’am.”

“That will have to do for now. We do have quite a bit to do to prepare her for this evening." Beatrice eyed Mark once more, “And what will you be doing today?”

“Aside from looking for work, not much else until I need to get ready for my date with Zoe.”

“You know, if you are having such trouble there is always your father’s company.” She spoke far less gently with Mark than she had with Chloe.

"I'll be fine on my own, Mother."

"As I recall you said something similar when you left nearly twenty years ago and we both know how that turned out."

Mark sighed and collected himself, "Then when I'm fifty-three we can discuss your offer again."

Beatrice scoffed, "Be serious. I shall be long buried by then."

Mark rolled his eyes. "You're not that old, Mother."

"Age has nothing to do with it, child. We have no control over when the good Lord calls us home."

“...Mother-”

“If you will excuse me,” Beatrice stood suddenly, dabbing at her perfectly painted lips with her napkin, “Chloe and I have quite a lot to do this morning.”

Ten minutes later, Sheffield found Chloe in his room. “Miss Chloe, I must have a word with you.”

“I’m not in the mood, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

Opening the door anyway Sheffield found Chloe with his face buried in a pillow and the curtains closed. “Miss Chloe, I believe we must discuss last night’s events.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chloe turned his face away. Despite the fact it had started raining the sun’s light still shown through far too harshly for his hangover.

“Who do you think helped you to bed?” Sheffield asked, opening the curtains once again.

Chloe grunted, “I did?”

Sheffield shook his head, “No, Miss. You were far too inebriated last night. You were not even capable of walking up the stairs, let alone dress yourself.”

Chloe sat up in bed, clenching the covers in her fist. “....W-who did?”

“I did, of course.” Chloe lost all color in his face, Sheffield had stripped him?! He was far less worried that Spencer might have been there or been the one to help him change. Spencer wasn’t an old man, alone in his bedroom while he was black out drunk! Something Jared had always taken great pains to warn and protect Sam from. What else had he done to him?! He had managed to protect himself against the worst possible aspects of living on the streets for twenty years only to fall victim to it here? In a million dollar home?!

Sheffield’s eyes widened for a moment, as he watched his charge grow pale and pulled the blankets protectively to her chest. Sheffield cleared his throat, “Allow me to clarify,” He wanted to jump to reassure her that she was as safe with her as if she were with her own father, but if he rushed his words, or changed his manner of speaking she would no doubt not believe him, “I selected your nightgown while you disrobed and I only helped when requested.”

“Did I?”

“I helped pull your arms through the sleeves, Miss.” He paused, her face had softened but he could still see the worry in her eyes, “I help your grandmother dress from time to time.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“...I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drunk.”

“She does not drink to excess.”

“Then what? She’s just lazy?”

“Hardly…I am not permitted to say why, but if you wish you can ask her to verify.”

“Okay.”

“I mention this solely to explain that what I did for you last night was similar to how I aid your grandmother or how a nurse may help a patient.” Chloe looked up at Sheffield for the first time since he had entered the room. Sheffield immediately knew he had said too much and needed to change the subject. “I would never allow you or your grandmother to harm.”

“What about my dad?” Chloe half smirked.

“Him too, I suppose.” He cleared his throat, “Now to my original topic. You snuck out of your room last night and ran off with that delinquent.” Chloe rolled his eyes, “I already told him last night, and now I’m telling you. He will not be setting another foot on the property.”

“You didn’t arrest him again did you?!”

“No.” Sheffield somehow stiffened even more, “I should have done. But seeing as he brought you home safely I allowed him to leave. But I am a man of my word. If I see him here again, or find out he has been here, I will have him arrested. He is far too old to have taken such an interest in you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Chloe buried his face in his hands to keep himself from laughing. He was actually older than Spencer and already in his twenties. Though everyone else saw him as a sixteen year old girl.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Fine, whatever.” He sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t even like him like that.” Unaware of how much like an upset teenage girl he was presenting himself as.

“Good. Now, in order to help you with your goals I have ordered you a number of magazines.”

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at him, “How on earth could magazines help me with my…goals?” Granted he did know of a few magazines that discussed picking locks, but that much he already knew.

“For the most part they are magazines most girls your age would have. If you wish to add more to your list we can discuss that at a later date. For now I’ve ordered the essentials for you.”

“I don’t need any magazines. The lessons with Grandmother are enough.”

“I mean this in the kindest way possible, you are not just a teenage girl. You are a Pasini and as such there are certain tasks that you are required to do, certain skills you must master, and certain knowledge that must come secondhand to you. I understand you have been a…tomboy…until this point. But you must put that behind you. Your Grandmother is a magnificently intelligent woman but she does not know everything about what it means to be a teenage girl in the modern day. You need to if you wish to blend in with your social circle.”

“I don’t have a social circle.”

“For now.”

Chloe sighed, “I guess as far as punishments go…it could be worse.”

Sheffield started to speak when the intercom crackled to life, echoing all throughout the manor, “Sheffield?” Beatrice asked.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He answered, pressing the button by the bedroom door.

“It is time for Chloe’s lessons to begin.” The echos stopped, having singled out Chloe’s bedroom.

“So it is.” He said to himself, looking at the watch on his arm, “I believe I just saw her heading that way now.”

“Good.” There was a subtle lift to Beatrice’s voice. Something that Chloe didn’t catch but Sheffield had noticed. “Tell her we will be taking lessons in the parlor today.”

Sheffield smiled, “I will find her and relay your message immediately.”

“Thank you, Sheffield.” With that the line became silent.

“You had better hurry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chloe groaned as he walked out of his ultra girly room, “I just hope it isn’t anything too loud.”

When he reached the parlor Chloe found his legs bound once more after Beatrice had him change into four inch pink slingback heels, having made sure they matched Chloe’s current outfit. “Now, as it has unfortunately decided to rain on us today, we will have to continue our lessons indoors.”

“Yi-yippee.” He groaned, feeling his ankle trying to give out underneath him. “I get to break my ankle inside instead! At least I won’t get my dress dirty.”

She ignored the feminized boy’s sarcasm as she helped him to stand. Then picked up a book which she placed on Chloe’s head. “You have been improving. You are far from perfect but I have no doubt you will master the skill in no time.”

“The skill of walking?”

“Would you say walking barefoot is easier than standing in the heels you are in now?”

“I-” his legs shook under him, “...Yeah.”

“Yes ma’am or Yes, Grandmother.” She corrected.

“...yes ma’am.” he groaned.

“Good. Now you see. It takes skill. Other skills you must master are grace and poise.”

“The heavy headgear gonna help with that?”

Beatrice shuddered, “It will indeed. And this book will help with your other problem.” She placed a small brown book in Chloe’s hands.

“The collected works of W.B. Yeets?” he read hesitantly.

“Yeats.” She bit her tongue, not wanting to lose her wager, but Chloe’s manner of speaking was like nails on a chalkboard to her ears, “You will be practicing your elocution while practicing walking.”

“My what?”

“Elocution. How one speaks. When you speak…intelligently, you will be taken more seriously.”

“I’m not that smart.” He chuckled and tried to hand the book back to her.

“Nonsense,” Beatrice pushed the book into Chloe’s chest, “you are as smarter than you realize. You simply have not been challenged. Now, enough idle chatter.” She said as she walked backwards out of the parlor, “Begin at page one and follow me.”

“Wonderful.”

“And speak up!” Beatrice practically shouted, “You are not a mouse so do not speak like one.”

Chloe followed Beatrice as he read poetry, any time he pronounced a word wrong or shortened a word he had to start over at the beginning. It didn’t matter if he was in the middle of one poem or the middle of the book, he had to turn back to the first page and start again. This was hard enough on its own but with a book on his head it made it even harder as they walked the entire ground floor. When he stumbled and dropped the book at least he didn’t have to start over. Instead she gave him advice on how to move with more grace, how to hold his arms out for balance, how much his hips should sway to exude grace but not so much he looked like some “wanton harlot on the prowl for a man.”

After an hour and a half, it was tea time and Beatrice was merciful enough to unbind Chloe’s legs, “so long as she remembered to sit properly.”

“Here you go ma’am.” Sheffield said, placing a saucer of tea on the end table beside her.

“Thank you, Sheffield.” she said as she picked up the cup and saucer.

“And for you, Miss.”

“Thanks.” He grumbled but still grateful for the tea.

“How are your lessons faring.”

“She is improving.” Beatrice answered. “Another month or two and perhaps we can find her a fine young suitor.”

“I thought I wasn’-was not supposed to wear suits.” He tried to tease Beatrice but when he corrected himself for using a simple contraction, as Beatrice had been doing all morning, he frowned and slumped in the chair.

“Sit up straight, Chloe.” She corrected quickly. Chloe immediately sat up straight and sipped at his tea, “And we are not talking about a suit. We are talking about a husband.”

Chloe choked on his tea. “Ex-excuse me?” He coughed, “A husband?!” He shouted.

“Of course a husband, dear.”

“Not immediately.” Sheffield added.

“Oh my yes, not immediately. That would not do at all. Think how the people would talk.” She whispered, “But with your background and pedigree we should have no trouble in finding you a suitable young man.”

Chloe’s eyes widened, ‘This old bat wants to marry me off?!’ his mind screamed, ‘To a man?!’ he thought of Spencer’s kiss for some reason, “Absolutely not.” Chloe slammed the saucer and cup on the coffee table in front of him, cracking the small plate.

“I beg your pardon?” Beatrice growled.

“I’m not marrying anybody!”

“As long as you are under my roof-”

“Then kick me out! I don’t care!” Chloe stormed out of the parlor and muttered, “Wouldn’t be the first time I slept on a park bench.” as he passed Sheffield.

“Something is wrong.” She said after giving herself a moment to collect herself.

“Perhaps she is not feeling well, Mum. I will go talk to her.”

“No,” Beatrice dabbed at her immaculate lipstick with her napkin, “I’m afraid this is something only another woman will understand.” She stood, “You will need to go to the pharmacist once you have finished clearing the table, I’m afraid.”

“...Quite right.” He nodded,

A few minutes later, Beatrice opened Chloe’s door without knocking. Chloe hurled herself to her heeled feet, quickly kicking the jacket under the bed. He had been looking through the pockets in the hopes of finding some cash, or a phone, or something to get him out of here “Don’t you ever knock?” He shouted out of reflex. His face plastered with regret as his skull still pounded like a highschool marching band drumline.

Beatrice began to chastise Chloe for her rude greeting but, seeing the look of regret on her granddaughter’s face, chose to quietly sit on Chloe’s bed. She was determined to prove Sheffield “Come. Sit with me.” She ordered as gently as she knew how. Chloe sat slowly on the small corner of the bed, hugging the post of his bed. Beatrice paused for a moment before speaking again, “Chloe. Dear.” she added. “I’ve noticed you are not feeling well today.”

“I’m fine.” He lied.

"Nonsense." She tensed, "You do not have to lie to me. I know exactly what you are going through."

"Really?"

"Well of course."

"I'm just, like, surprised. And you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad about a perfectly understandable bodily function?"

"W-Pardon?"

"H…has no one explained this to you?"

"No?" Chloe's face twisted in confusion. When he was younger his foster homes tried to force him to go to school but he would always skip, returning only for the free lunch, by sixth grade he had started living on the streets and Jared had never insisted he go to school. He had a much more useful education program for him anyway.

Beatrice frowned and shook her head, her son had truly chosen poorly. What mother would not tell her daughter what to expect in the future? She recalled her own mother had simply told her "it was not polite conversation." At least Chloe's mother had the good excuse of being dead.

"Once a month…" Beatrice shifted in her seat, clearing her throat, "As women, once a month we have a monthly visitor. That makes us more irritable because it is quite painful."

"You're not talking about…um…"

"Your period, Chloe. Your menstrual cycle." Chloe cringed at her words. " Your father said you lost your luggage on the train. So, I am sending Sheffield shopping and I will need to instruct him to pick up the appropriate hygiene products for you. Do you have a light flow or is it heavier?"

Chloe buried his face in his hands, 'God this can't possibly get any more worse.' Watching the distressed girl burying her face, clearly her father never spoke to her about it either or perhaps he made her feel like a sideshow like most men did her until she simply stopped talking about it. She would have loved nothing more than to tell Sheffield to go out and purchase an assortment of items, but if no one had talked to her about it then there was a chance she may have a medical issue. Perhaps one that would even prevent her from having children. She had no choice but to carry on casually. "When I was your age my flow was quite heavy. And we didn't have-"

'Oh God I was wrong!' "I'm gonna be sick!" He snapped suddenly. He already had a hangover, did he really have to suffer hearing about some old woman's period?

"There is no need to shout, dear."

Chloe groaned, rubbing his stomach. "I'm not kidding."

"Is it cramps?"

".... Yeah." He lied. The tequila and lack of food was still reeking havoc with his intestines.

Beatrice paused, letting the I'll mannered way Chloe spoke go for the moment, "How bad are they?"

"It feels like someone's cutting me from the inside out with a rusty dagger."

Beatrice frowned as she considered this. Cramps hurt but if they were as bad as Chloe described it could indeed be a medical issue. Beatrice stood up, standing Chloe with her, "Then for now you should rest."

"Really?" Chloe eyed Beatrice suspiciously. Something was off about Beatrice all of a sudden. The hard woman he had gotten used to in the last couple of weeks had gently taken his hand as she helped him stand and had just as gently told him to relax?

Beatrice pulled back the sheet of Chloe's already re-made bed, "Yes, dear."

Chloe sat on the edge of the bed once more, cautiously, "What about lunch?"

Beatrice held the blanket back, waiting until Chloe placed her legs underneath. "I will have Sheffield bring lunch up to you when it is time." She carefully covered Chloe with the blanket once more, she had no experience tucking a child into bed and while she did her best she felt something was missing.

Chloe stared at the blanket that had been pulled up to his chest while Beatrice searched for something. 'Why did she do this?' he picked at the soft material. He was a grown ass man, no one tucked him in before and he certainly didn't need it now. Still it wasn't…terrible. "Aha!" Beatrice exclaimed. For a moment Chloe thought Beatrice had found the leather jacket haphazardly hidden under the bed. "I knew I didn't throw him away." Beatrice placed an old, raggedy, stuffed monkey with exaggeratedly long arms and legs in Chloe's hands.

"Um…"

"This is Mr. Percival." Beatrice explained as she pulled up the small antique chair to the side of Chloe's bed, "A long time ago when I was about…seven or eight, I broke my arm while horseback riding. That night my father, your great-grandfather, introduced me to Mr. Percival." She ever so gently patted the stuffed monkey's head, "Well he helped me to feel better."

"Thank you." Chloe smiled lightly.

For a moment Beatrice sat silently, gently stroking Percival. “Tell me Chloe…what did you dream of when you were a little girl?”

“...What do you mean?”

“When I was a little girl I wanted to be a pilot.”

Chloe nodded, “And did your grandmother try to marry you off to some rich guy you never even met?”

“No. My mother did, however.” Chloe made a gesture as if to say ‘Sucks huh?’ “I sometimes forget you did not grow up in this life like I did.”

“Yeah.” Chloe nodded, his hair falling in his face as he thought about his life and gently stroked Mr. Percival. This life came with a lot of strings and expectations…but he would still rather the strings and expectations than the freezing nights spent around a barrel of burning trash.

“I will do better to remember that.”

“Thanks.” He frowned.

Beatrice pushed the fallen hair out of Chloe’s face, tucking it behind her ear, “So tell me dear, what did you dream of when you were a little girl?” She asked with a gentle smile.

“A warm shower.” He said without thinking, the memories of nights he thought he would surely freeze to death fresh in his mind.

Beatrice froze.

Her son had left at seventeen, in her anger she had told him if he left he could expect no help from her financially. “Not so much as a penny!”

“I wouldn’t dare take something so precious from you, Mother.” He spat and slammed the door as he left. True to his word he didn’t speak to her again for almost twenty years.

She knew he was stubborn and proud like his father but he had a child, surely he wouldn’t have let her suffer over something so…

Beatrice took Chloe’s hands in her’s. “Chloe,” The young girl finally looked up at her, she looked so frail and sad, “You will always have a place here.”

“Yeah?” He scoffed lightly, he had heard that before from a dozen foster parents.

“I want you to remember this; This is your home and it always will be. We are family.”

Chloe swallowed hard, it didn’t matter how old he got, what his name was today or tomorrow, he had been burned by those words too many times before to ever believe them. Even Jared only kept him around until he proved he was no longer useful. “Okay.” He choked back the tears he could feel forming.

Beatrice kissed Chloe’s forehead gently, "Get some rest, dear." She whispered before standing and walking to the door.

Clearing his throat, “Did you ever become a pilot?”

Beatrice stopped and smiled, “Your grandfather taught me.” With that she turned the light off and closed the door behind her.

Once she was gone Chloe stared at the monkey for a few moments before placing it beside him on the bed and pulling the sheet up further around himself.

A few hours later, the rain had finally stopped while Chloe slept. Sheffield entered Chloe’s room with a small collapsible table that would allow her to eat in bed and found her cuddling Mr. Percival as she slept. The girl tried to act tough and invulnerable but she was still so much just a child. He gently woke Chloe and allowed her to eat a hearty lunch to make up for her lack of breakfast that morning. “Feeling better?”

“I don’t have to marry the cook do I?”

“Not as far as I am aware.” He smirked as he took up the tray, “Now, you’ll want to freshen up before you see the doctor.”

“Doctor?!”

“Yes, it seems your grandmother is concerned about your menstrual cycle.”

“...But…I don’t have one.”

“I am aware.”

“Well what do we do? What if he wants to look up my-”

“There are other methods to check one’s health.”

“Not many for that one though.”

“Trust me, Miss. I will not let anything happen to you.” Sheffield may be willing to steal from Beatrice, Chloe thought, but that didn’t make him a criminal mastermind. Sam and Jared had conned a few doctors when they needed too and the first rule was never fake something they could visually see wasn’t true. Any kind of check up would instantly reveal him to be a man!

Sheffield’s face softened as he set the tray aside and took knelt in front of Chloe, still at eye level with the short seated girl, “Chloe.” he spoke gently, “I understand what you’ve been through could not have been easy. And a life like that makes it hard to trust anyone, but if you’ll permit me to paraphrase, ‘No woman is an island.’ You’ll have to learn to trust eventually. If you cannot yet trust I do not wish you harm, trust that we are in this together and I gain nothing from letting something bad happen to you.” Chloe thought for a second before finally nodding, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Thank you." he stood and took up the tray once more. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” His voice returned to its usual stoicness as he left.

Chloe entered a small room on the other side of the manor on the second floor. Sheffield had called it an exam room but it looked like a hospital room only…larger. Instead of a gurney there was a full size bed similar to what you would find in a hospital, capable of raising and lowering the head and legs with the push of a button. Except unlike the hospital beds the sheets were egyptian cotton with over nine-hundred thread count. It also had a backup generator should the need arise. The closet was well stocked with fresh sheets and medical supplies, even a portable defibrillator.

Chloe wasn’t surprised, a rich old woman had her own hospital room, he would be surprised if she didn’t have her own wing in the hospital if he was honest. What surprised him was as he eased the door open he found Beatrice sitting on the bed as the doctor looked her over. “–told them yet?” He asked as he unwrapped a pressure cuff from her arm.

“No. There would be no need in worrying them.”

“Finding these things out secondhand is never good.”

“That is why I pay for discretion.”

“Chloe.” Sheffield said, placing a hand on the shorter feminized man’s shoulder. “It is impolite to spy.” He said as he gently closed the door.

“I-I wasn’t.”

“Hmm.”

They sat silently for a few minutes in the sitting room before the doctor stepped out to greet them, “You must be Chloe.” He said with a smile.

“I guess I must be.” He said as he stood.

“Lucky you.” He smirked, “I’m Dr.Kimball.” He offered Chloe his hand to shake. When he took it Chloe curtseyed out of reflex. Kimball smiled, “If you’ll come in here and sit on the bed, your grandmother is already here.”

“Yay me.” He faked a smile as he followed the doctor inside.

Sheffield closed the door behind him and stood silently at attention. The doctor eyed the strange statue of a man before he pulled a small chair in front of Chloe who sat nervously on the side of the bed. “So Chloe, tell me what seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He said quietly.

“No need to be embarrassed, Chloe.” Beatrice added, “Terrance here is a medical professional.”

Dr. Kimball shook his head as he put gloves on, his father was originally the Pasini’s family doctor, when he took over the practice from his father he inherited them as patients. But that didn’t stop Beatrice from seeing him as the little boy who would sometimes play in her yard while his father was examining her or her husband.

“I…have painful cramps? A-and a headache. And…um…”

Dr. Kimball raised his gloved hand, “Your grandmother tells me you’re having issues with your menstrual cycle?”

Chloe cleared his throat, “Y-yes, sir.”

“Alright, let’s start with your vitals real quick. Then we can check out what’s going on.” He paused and looked over his shoulder to the man who still hadn’t moved, or blinked, or…was he even breathing? “Are you going to be okay disrobing in front of your…butler?” he asked as he turned back to face Chloe.

Before Chloe could answer Beatrice interjected, “That won’t be necessary.”

“...It kind of is.” He twisted in the chair, so he could look at Beatrice sitting in the small benched alcove.

Beatrice scoffed, “In the hope of sparing my granddaughter’s modesty, it is not. We only wish to rule out the worst case scenario. That is why I told your secretary you were to bring your kit for a blood draw.”

Chloe looked up at Sheffield who simply winked at him before returning to the statue he was pretending to be. Chloe’s shoulders relaxed and he could finally breathe a little easier.

“She’s not a secretary. She’s a nurse.” Beatrice glared at the young doctor, “But you are right, we can do this without a pelvic exam.” Her glare softened, “Although, I will let you know, if we do find anything in her blood we will likely have to do a pelvic exam. Depending on what we find.”

“If that day comes we will defer to you. We are not fools.”

“Alrighty.”

Chloe couldn’t help but giggle as Dr. Kimball turned back to face him as he mouthed “Wow!” Silently to himself.