Octavia breathed in deeply and placed the vase back on the mantle. By the time she turned around, Aaron was on the couch, jumping up and down on its cushions as if they were springs.
“I don’t think you should be climbing on there, Master Aaron.”
“Why not?” He continued to jump up and down.
“You might damage it,” she said simply. “I doubt your father would be very happy if he found out.”
“He doesn’t care.” Aaron kicked one of the cushions into the air. “He doesn’t care about anything.”
Octavia sighed and scooped up the cushion. “That’s not true.”
“It is.” He kicked another cushion.
She frowned at the comment as she collected the second cushion. The way that Aaron behaved was typical, rebellion for the sake of being a rebel. But what he said about his father… Octavia sensed a deeper meaning.
Ah, so that is why he behaves this way. How interesting…
“How about you climb down from there?” she said as she put the two cushions down on the edge of the couch. “Let us play my game.”
“No!”
“What if it is not a question?” She folded her arms and looked at him. “It is an order.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
“Do you want a bet?”
Aaron smiled wickedly, excitement flooding him. He ran to the end of the couch and kicked the cushions off the edge again, laughing with glee to see them fly.
“Make me!” he cried out.
Octavia glared at Aaron, even if she did not mean to. She had spent much of the last few years of her life dealing with men who treated her as less than nothing, simply because of who she was and what they knew they could get away with. If a child thought that he could do the same…
No, Octavia. This is what he wants. Think! How can you possibly make a child whose entire purpose seems to be rebel listen to you?
That was when she had an idea.
“Fine,” she sighed and turned away. “If you wish to jump around on the couch and cause chaos, so be it.” She started slowly across the room. “I am going outside.”
“What? Why?”
She reached the doorway and turned, making sure to look bored. “It is too nice a day to be cooped up indoors. Just as it is too nice a day to spend picking up after you. When Miss Spencer asks what we did today, tell her whatever you wish. I do not care.” With that, she turned and walked from the room.
Once outside the room, Octavia stopped and listened. Sure enough, within seconds, she heard the patter of feet following her.
A smile found her lips; the smallest of victories, but it was a start. Aaron wasn’t a bad kid. He didn’t mean to be wicked or troublesome. What he was, was starved for attention, and denying him exactly that was a sure way to make him follow.
“Chase me!” he cried as he sprinted past her. “Chase me!” He ran through the house, screaming as he did.
Octavia did not chase him. Again, she wished to appear disinterested. She walked calmly through the house, humming a soft tune to herself, acting as if she did not even notice Aaron.
The back garden was rich and verdant. A maze of flowerbeds and trimmed hedges, with a stone path snaking through it. There was plenty of space also, large patches of green grass for sitting and taking in the sun, and many stone benches peppered throughout. While Aaron sprinted up and down the pathway, screaming his lungs out, Octavia made her way to one of the grassy patches.
“Chase me!” Aaron cried as he zoomed around the garden.
She did no such thing. She sat down, again looking bored. Or rather, disinterested. She stretched out, she looked about the garden, and she made sure not to give Aaron even a second of her attention.
“You aren’t chasing me?” Aaron came to a stop in front of her. “Why not?”
