35 It is All According to Fate (1/2)

Alphonse stares at the president's silhouette slowly fading to the darkness. In times like this he remembered the man he had served for many years—the president's late father—Roy Denmark.

He still harks back to their same charismatic smile hiding their cruel upbringing. They were very similar, but at the same time their ways were different. Roy was a man who was elaborate with his steps and processes, whilst his son on the other hand, George, worked in ways that complicated Alphonse.

Alphonse Richards had been a butler of the Denmarks ever since he was a young lad. The Richards were bound to serve the Denmark family for years. In family trees Alphonse was tending, the Richards had been recorded working for the Denmarks throughout many generations, the earliest years being recorded was back in the Victorian era.

In the 1830s were the earliest records of the first butler from the line of the Richards—his name was Aleph Richards, the butler serving the noble line of the Denmarks, one of the households holding the title of the marquis. As a Richard, Alphonse ought to study the hierarchy and the family tree of the Denmarks as per tradition. He was old now, meaning he had already almost forgotten half of what he had learned.

But out of all the knowledge passed down to his line, he had yet to forget one thing:

”Secundum quod fatum est” in Latin, and ”Óla eínai sýmfona me ti moíra” in Greek.

| Όλα είναι σύμφωνα με τη μοίρα |

It is all according to fate.

The Denmarks were famous for this certain line. Even in the family tree, the quote was embedded with the mark of a chimera; a lion, with the head of a goat protruding from its back, and a tail that ends with a snake's head. The chimera was displayed in front of an opened iron gate amassing a burning flame. It was so magnificent that the Denmarks became notorious for it.

The University of the High East, amongst many business enterprises the Denmarks handled, carried this certain emblem. It became a mark of the family and was a sign of their prosperity

Alphonse regarded the emblem as something that binds him to his master. He readjusted the chimera insignia on his tailcoat, one he carried ever since he was appointed as the head butler.

”It is all according to fate,”

He remembers how George Denmark's eyes gleamed as he articulated these words—with such pride and the same utterance as Alphonse's late master. This certain quote became a spell that the Denmarks conveyed at such times.

Times that they neither found coincidental nor caused.

Times that they harbor as perpetual—

Such as the earthquake that struck Peru.

Alphonse waited for dusk as he finished the preparations. As his usual routine, he checked the time. It was already 6 in the evening, just the time he would enter the president's study to report what information the HR mustered to gather.

”Ah, Alphonse,” the president utters. ”Isn't this another spectacular sunrise?”

Alphonse stares at the president for a brief moment, noticing a tinge of glee in his tone.

”. . . You seem to be in a good mood, Sire.” Alphonse exclaims as a matter of factly.

George Denmark was still looking through the glass pane, his hand playing with the flute in a circling motion, the champagne mixing in a beautiful swirl.

”Secundum quod fatum est,” the president stated. ”Óla eínai sýmfona me ti moíra,”

Alphonse stares at the glass' peripheral as the president drank what was left of the champagne flute's contents.

”It is all according to fate,” says George Denmark.