Chapter eight (Cossette)

    Garconer stared at me, his face conveying his surprise as well as his worry.

    “Duchess…?”

    “…I’m going to kill him…!” I seethed, my eyes wide enough to show their fire.  “I am going to kill him!  I don’t care if I have to sell my soul to the Devil himself, I’m going to KILL him…!”

    “Who?” Garconer puzzled.  “Your suitor?”  My fists tightened.

    “HE’S NOT MY SUITOR…!!” I bellowed.  Garconer cringed at the pitch in my voice.  I, however, was burying my face in my hands, slouching in my despair to such a point that I might have been in danger of falling from the limb.  I was whimpering, doing all I could to keep from kicking my feet like a child.  Oh, how I desperately felt the need to punch something…and Lord Seraph’s head was the first thing that came to mind.  Alas, I had but two choices: Garconer or some part of the tree in which I still sat.  Neither struck me as being especially wise.

    “…So…” Garconer began cautiously.  “If he’s not your suitor…then…who is he?”

    “…I don’t know…” I whined into my palms, not feeling very keen to act like a lady at this time.  “…Some stranger who found me in Versailles while I was collecting…”

    “Aw, how happy for you!” he cheered suddenly.  “These are marvelous tidings…!”

    I lowered my hands just enough, as if to rip him apart with my glare.

    “…How…?” I snarled.

    “Oh, just imagine it!” he said, standing up with a flourish, sauntering along the limb as a dancer.  “You’re at Versailles…a maiden alone.  You walk among the crowd, your focus hardly on the party around you.  And then, suddenly…” – he spun to me, eyes bright – “…he appears!  He – a tall, dark, and mysterious stranger – sees you from across the hall.  He is awestruck, stunned.  He comes closer to you, desiring to meet you, to speak with you, to know your name…!  You turn to him; your eyes meet…!  Your face is branded in his memory, engraved upon his heart…!  What he would give to hear your voice, the sound of it the very prayer he utters late into the night to sustain himself through the weary day…!”  He dropped his arms and grinned warmly.  “…As if that isn’t the fantasy of every woman…”

    I took a deep breath, the severity of my gaze deepening.

    “…Once I am through with the lecher…” I warned him.  “…You’re next!”

    “Aw, you mean it didn’t happen like that?” he frowned, clearly disappointed.  “I got it wrong?”  I ripped off a glove and threw it at him.

    “No!” I spat as he caught it.  “You didn’t!”

    “Huzzah!” he crowed, whipping my glove back to me.  I snatched at it, fumbling and missing, the glove falling to the ground.  That made me angrier.

    “Why are you so pleased!?” I demanded with a scowl.  “He’s been nothing but insufferable!”

    “What has he done?” Garconer wondered, still grinning.  “What could be so terrible that…?”

    “He failed to keep his hands in check, he’s been obscene, vulgar, and obvious, he went against my wish that he not ever come here, and he forcibly moved himself into my home!”  I scowled even harder, greatly embittered.  “Is that terrible enough for you…?”

    “Ah…” he mused, thinking on this.  “Then I’d say that the rumor was right on the coin…you do have a bit of a challenge on your hands, don’t you…?”

    I muttered something unrepeatable.

    “Aw, don’t worry, Cossi…” he cooed soothingly, stepping up along the limb to pat my head.  “You’ll be rid of him soon.  You’ve dispatched how many potentials by now…?  It’ll be fine…”

    “…And just how many of those potentials also claimed to be the Vampire King?” I scoffed spitefully.  “Not many, the last time I looked…”

    At first, I attributed Garconer’s sudden silence to his inability to make a snappy return of some sort.  Ever so often I was able to take him off guard with just the right remark.  It didn’t happen frequently, so I tended to treasure those times it did.  But when more than a minute passed and he failed to speak up again, I looked at him, confused to find that his eyes had darkened.  

    “What is it?” I asked, blinking.

    “The Vampire King?” he questioned, eyeing me seriously.  “Is that what he told you?”

    “Yes,” I replied.  “Why?”

    “The man that rode in the farmer’s wagon claiming to be your suitor was out in the daylight, Cossi,” he told me.  “He couldn’t have been a Vampire, let alone their damned King…”

    “Well, then, he’s found some way to evade the sunlight,” I grumbled, running my fingers back through my hair.  “I know not how he does it, but it wasn’t the first time he’s walked in the open…”

    “Really?” Garconer wondered, folding his arms.

    “No,” I sighed.  “The first time I saw it, he had accosted me at Carlina’s home in the middle of the afternoon – and most recently he was spying on me in the woods just this morning…!”

    “Spying…?” questioned Garconer, raising an eyebrow.  I hung my head a little.

    “I was…at the pool in the grove again…” I admitted quietly.  I hardly had reason to be ashamed of it, though.  Garconer was one of the few who knew my more private habits – largely to guard against those that might seek to disrupt them.  Thus, it took him all of an instant to put together my words to grasp my meaning.  His mouth fell open, his eyes widening.

    “And you let him get away alive!?” he gawked.

    “Not on purpose!” I defended.  But Garconer just stood back from me, tsking with disapproval.

    “Not good, Cossi,” he teased.  “You’re slipping up in your old age.”  A moment later he flailed wildly as he went over the side of the branch, my leg having lashed out to unbalance him.  But it was lackluster victory.  He floated to the ground rather than plunge, his toes touching gently upon the earth.  “I didn’t mean it…!” he called from below.  “Honest…!”

    I rolled my eyes and chose to be done with it.  Sweeping my leg over the branch so that I sat facing out, I fell backwards, my legs hooking to the limb for but a moment before releasing.  My body flipped and my legs to swung beneath me for the landing.  I hit the ground at a crouch and stopped, suddenly winded.  I grabbed at my side with a groan, the pounding between my eyes and at the back of my neck intensifying.  Garconer came to my side, concerned.

    “It’s just a bruise…” I breathed, hoping to allay his fears.

    “So says you,” he pointed out, helping me to stand.  “Let me see for a moment, Cossi…”

    “Garconer…”

    “Just for a moment,” he murmured again, his tone soft and encouraging.  “Just want to make sure you’re not in dire shape…otherwise you know that Lillith will have kittens…”

    I had to chuckle at that – I knew he was right.  Carefully I slipped off Rogero’s scabbard and my father’s coat before unlacing my bodice, covering my breasts with my arm as I removed it.  I raised my chemise to bare the side of me that bore the injury, and he stooped to examine it.

    “…How bad is it?” I ventured after a while.

    “Well, it’s not pleasant to look at…” he replied, lightly tracing his fingers along my ribs.  I sucked air between my teeth.  It didn’t matter that his fingertips had the same weight to them as feathers did…my ribcage was too vexed to care.

    “Has the skin broken at all…?” I asked, fixing my eyes on something else.

    “A little,” he answered absently.  “Let me look at your clothing, Cossi…”

    I dropped the chemise to accommodate him, and he looked the fabric over carefully.  Even in the darkness I knew he could still see about as well as he could in the daytime, and when he sighed I knew it bore nothing but ill news.

    “Well…?” I prompted.

    “You’re bleeding, Duchess,” he said to me.  “Lightly, but bleeding nonetheless…your chemise is carrying the stains…”

    “Wonderful,” I mumbled, knowing well the earful I would receive once Lillith set to do the laundry from tonight.  I tried to turn myself so I could see what he was talking about, but my injury wouldn’t permit it.  Any attempt I made was met with fiery protest under my skin.  “Can you make out anything else?” I asked, keeping still.

    “No,” he reported, pulling away.  “Aside from the flesh softening somewhat, it isn’t horrible.  Was it a Volven that did this to you…?”

    “Who else?” I sighed, wincing as I tucked my chemise back into my leggings.  “One tried to tear me from Etain’s back…nothing unusual for this time of the month…”

    “And how about your head and neck?” he inquired.  “I know you’ve been favoring them…”

    “They hurt,” I replied, lacing my bodice back around me.  I halted my breath and drew the laces tight.  “But, it shouldn’t be anything that a hot soak in a tub can’t cure later tonight…”

    “Still,” he murmured, his hands cupping my face to tilt my head towards him.  “This isn’t a night to gamble.  I can’t get rid of the hurts themselves, but I can take away their pain…”

    “Would you?” I asked.  His emerald eyes twinkled.

    “I already have,” he laughed, and he let go, stepping back.  Amazed, I reached to feel my neck.  The knot had loosened, the muscles relaxed and soothed.  My eyes blinked, seeing all the clearer, the throbbing having since faded away.  I smiled, quite relieved.

    “Thank you…” I breathed.

    “Does this mean you’ll not aim to destroy me once you’ve disposed of the lecherous one?” he purred adoringly, sidling towards me.  I gave him a look.

    “I’ll think more on it before I do,” I replied, nudging him away.  “Now…I suppose I should try to find Etain…see if I can catch up with her…”

    “I wouldn’t,” Garconer advised, handing me back my coat and Rogero.  “She’s probably deep in the woods with the whole pack by now…”

    “True,” I conceded, slipping both on.  “But what else can be done this evening?  I don’t intend to return home until nearly dawn.”

    “Well, there is one thing,” he said.  “An abandoned carriage has been discovered on one of the border roads with two horses – they’ve been there for at least a day or so…”

    “A carriage?” I echoed.  “Does it belong to anyone?”

    “Not that any of us know of,” he responded, holding my other glove out to me.  “We thought that the owner might return to claim it, but no one ever arrived.  The horses have been without much to drink or eat, save for what they could gather on the roadside…”

    “Then we best retrieve them,” I said, taking back the glove.  “Which road are they on?  Is it far?”  But Garconer merely grinned and put an arm around me.  I knew what he was about to do.

    “I can take you straight there,” he whispered.  With reluctance, my arms twined around him.  

    “Just be careful…!” was all I managed to get out before he pulled me with him, the two of us disappearing from sight.  Ah, the joys of stepping sideways…

    Stepping sideways was a trick used by many of the Fair Ones, called so because one literally stepped to the side in the act.  It worked through the use of the veils: the barriers that contained our respective worlds, theirs and ours, keeping them separate.  The veils themselves had no special location in either realm – all one need do is reach out a hand wherever they were and they would brush against the seam of the veils’ glamour…and always without knowing it.  Often, those that stepped sideways created a slight part in the veils in order to move – one deep enough for them to walk into, but too shallow to entirely penetrate.  By doing this, the Fair Ones could vanish in the blink of an eye, or cover great distances from one place to another.  I myself could also step sideways, allowing that the faye could lend a hand as I needed it.  But I didn’t enjoy it, however: stepping in and out of the veils plagued my stomach without fail.  Even with Garconer bearing me hence, it hardly made a difference when we landed.  I stumbled away from him with a groan, my gut rolling in discomfort.  He looked at me as I swayed, striving to ease myself.

    “Aw, it wasn’t that bad…” he chuckled, reaching to ruffle my hair from behind.  “You can at least do it on your own from time to time – most mortals can’t!”  I swatted at him, agitated.

    “Don’t push my mood, Lord Green,” I muttered.  “I’m hardly of a mind to tolerate it…”

    “Save it for now, Duchess,” he told me, directing me down the road.  “There’s the carriage.”

    I looked the way he was pointing, spying a carriage that was haphazardly positioned on the roadside, as if the two horses still harnessed to it were straining to reach the grass that grew along the dirt.  Both were stallions of equal size and hardiness, with black coats and white markings.  The first bore a single star marking its forehead, the second with a single coronet circling above each hoof.  I took off at a fast jog.  How I despised seeing such things…

    As I neared, I slowed and held out my hands to the beasts.  The poor things were uneasy and close to spooking – no doubt hearing so many howls earlier in the night frightened them.  There was something terribly primal about the sound of a Volven’s howl – and such a noise would only call to an animal’s deepest of instincts…in particular if that same animal was considered prey.

    “…Easy now, friends…” I whispered.  “…Easy, easy, easy…it’s all right…I’m not going to hurt you…see?”  I reached out to the first horse, offering my palm.  He sniffed towards me, pressing his muzzle to my glove.  Immediately he calmed: he knew that someone was here to take them home.  The second horse, however, was less certain.  I could make out the whites of his eyes, his ears pinned all the way back, head raised and hooves pawing.  I flagged Garconer to me.  “Help me get this one loose,” I told him, and we worked to unhitch the first horse together.  This one wasn’t likely to give us trouble, and I would need some space to work with his companion.

    “Wouldn’t it be easier to just drive the carriage back?” Garconer asked.

    “If they hadn’t been tied to it for a day, I would say yes,” I replied as we loosened the straps.  “But I’m more concerned about their skin chaffing…besides…” – I pointed down – “…look at the wheel.”  Doing as told, Garconer bent to inspect what was obvious a crack in the front wheel on the right – one that could have shattered the frame if impacted hard enough.  At least that explained why the carriage had been deserted…

    Once set free, Garconer drew the first horse to the side by its bridle, holding it steady as I approached its comrade.  He eyed me as he would a threat, tossing his head, snorting, and backing into the carriage.  I stopped, my arms out.  I let him see me, look me over, observe me as I was.  As soon as his ears turned themselves up, I took a slow step forward.  The horse gave a sudden jerk, and again I stopped.  I was used to dealing with horses.  Their minds were set on survival, the instinct to fight or take flight their key defense – and whenever that instinct was compromised, panic usually wasn’t long in coming.  I waited a moment more, just as I was, watching the horse and looking for signs that might tell me what he was thinking.  After several minutes I lowered my arms to see what the horse would do.  He did nothing.  He simply stood there, looking at me curiously.  I took another step.  He raised one hoof, but otherwise stayed still.  Taking a leap, I took him gently by the bridle.  His head bobbed for an instant, but that was all.  We both relaxed.

    “…There’s my good friend…” I breathed, patting his neck affectionately.  “…There we are, now…there we are.”  Reins in hand, I made a reach for the harness…just as a howl sounded in the night: sharp, sudden, and close by.  Both horses jumped, ears twisting every which way, but staying where me and Garconer held them.  He looked around us, his own ears pricking up.

    “That’s not far off, Cossi…” he began, his tone wary.

    “Then let’s not wait,” I said, hurrying to unhitch the horse.  “That howl was less than a mile off by the sound of it, and if that youngling that slipped by Jacobi finds us, then we’re both in trouble.”

    Taking this to heart, Garconer removed his wine-colored coat and draped it over the second horse before I was able to mount him, providing some protection to the animal’s back.  He did the same to the first horse, using his dark crimson shirt, leaving himself bare from the waist up.  My gaze happened to slip towards him as he climbed atop his new steed.  His physique was not as mighty as some others I have heard of.  His chest, though wide and beautifully formed, was not full.  The muscles along his arms and stomach were smooth and sleek – slender as opposed to rounded.  When he moved the dark satin threads of his hair flowed effortlessly, and without his coat or shirt to cover him, it left only so much to the imagination of his person – especially if one let their eyes drift along the tall, even magnificent slope of his body, his torso dipping past his navel into the cradle of his loins, his green leggings clothing slim hips and the rounded length of his thighs.  No wonder he prided himself on having a number of lady friends – even as I knew that there was only one lady whose company he repeatedly sought…

    When we were ready, I gave my horse a gentle kick in the flanks, and he immediately went ahead at first a trot, and then a canter.  His companion followed close behind.  Upon arriving at my family’s home, we turned onto a small road that led from the drive and curved down towards the entrance to the carriage house under the castle on the southeast side.  Etain was normally the sole occupant of the stables, but there were stalls enough to put up at least two more.  

    We took the time we had to, removing the remaining tack from either animal before thoroughly grooming them, settling their stalls with fresh straw for bedding and hay for eating.  As Garconer pumped fresh water into buckets to fill the troughs, I spent some time examining the bridles.  Right away I could see that their quality was well beyond what most were able to afford, and the grade of the metal fixtures – all of them brass instead of the more popular silver – hinted that the horses’ previous owner had expensive, if somewhat unusual tastes.  These were indeed some rich man’s pets…but if so, why let them sit out on the road?  The carriage wheel was damaged, yes, but that was hardly a reason to leave the horses behind.  I failed to see the logic of it…

    “Are you done admiring the horses’ dressings, Cossi?” Garconer asked me as he strolled up to where I sat on a bale of hay.  He apparently wasn’t bothering to put his coat or shirt back on.

    “You can be such a killjoy sometimes…” I murmured.  Garconer just shrugged.

    “Only when I’m in a hurry,” he said.  I had to stop at this.  There were only a few things in this world that Garconer was ever in a hurry for, and I gave him such a stare to know what he was referring to.  He looked off to the side, pretending to be engaged in something else.

    “Anxious to be in the arms of your darling Colleen, I take it?” I concluded smugly, standing to hang the bridles away.  His eyes swiveled about to me.

    “And how is that any of your business?” he wanted to know, nevertheless smirking.

    “Oh, only that I happen to know her…live with her, even…” I replied, looping the bridles on a hook on the wall.  “…But I should warn you…ever since the self-declared Vampire King arrived, she’s been nothing but beside herself with elation.”  Garconer blinked after me.

    “You mean to say that she believes him?” he wondered.

    “That’s what so strange about this,” I admitted, turning to him.  “Lillith knows the stories of the Vampire King all by heart, backwards and forwards – she even told them to me as a child!  You would suppose that she would recognize him on sight…”

    “The old tales claim that he was a horned monster with six wings,” Garconer pointed out.  “Three belonging to the angels, and three belonging to the damned – does your suitor have any of these?”

    “He does not,” I answered.

    “Then he is an imposter…” Garconer said, biting on his words.  “…And if he harms her at all…”

    “Let’s not even consider that,” I said quickly.  “Doing so is insulting Lillith’s ability to see inside someone.”  My look and tone turned serious.  “…And he knows that I will ruin him myself if he steps out of line…”

    “…But to assume that she is safe might be a move in the fraud’s favor!” snapped Garconer.

    “And Lillith is no foolish girl, either,” I told him patiently.  “You of all people should know that.  Her insights upon a first impression have always been keen enough to tell friend from foe, and I highly doubt that she would allow herself to be so misled.”  That’s when I paused, thinking back to how she defended Lord Seraph the other evening.  It made me consider her conduct more carefully, now, having just heard my own argument.  “…Odd as it is to say,” I went on.  “I’m beginning to wonder if she might be right…”

    “Has he offered you proof?” Garconer asked.  “Has he given you more than his just word?”

    “He hasn’t,” I allowed.

    “Do you even know his name?”

    “He calls himself Mael Seraph,” I answered – and Garconer reached out, his hand gripping my arm and tugging me to him, his normally lighthearted features now hardened with urgency.

    “…Is that his name?” he hissed, his eyes searching mine.  “Is that his given name, Duchess?  Is that what he is called?”

    “What on earth is the matter with you…!?” I gasped, taken aback.  Suddenly aware, Garconer loosened his hold on me, even as his gaze remained.

    “Duchess…” he said quietly.  “The Vampire King’s name was also Mael Seraph – did your blessed father not teach you this…?”

    “He did, but…”

    “Then he must have also taught you what he’s been responsible for!” he whispered fiercely.  “You know the old stories, Cossi – you know what he’s done in this world!  And if your would-be suitor is in fact him, and not just some clever charlatan, then he cannot stay here!  If word reaches Jacobi and the others…”

    “You think I’m not aware of that!?” I shot back, yanking my arm from him.  “If the Volven realize that someone merely claiming to be the Vampire King is here, they won’t wait to find out if he’s being truthful…!”

    “…And the remaining Vampires will retaliate the only way they know how,” Garconer finished.  “…And nothing that you can do will remedy the situation…”

    “And what of the Fair Folk?” I asked him.  “Have any of them caught on, yet?”

    “Not to my knowledge,” was his response.  “I can keep such news from spreading – at least until you can determine just who this man is…provided that he hasn’t already been recognized.”

    “Well, for the time being,” I muttered, crossing my arms.  “I’m prepared to take it one day at a time – I already intend to have words with him about his little stunt this morning…”

    “Aye…” agreed Garconer, bobbing his head.  Then he thought of something.  “…Has he even explained to you why he’s here to begin with?” he asked.

    “Poorly, but yes,” I sniffed.  “He claims he’s looking for a rogue.  Young women whose bodies have been drained are surfacing in the surrounding region, and that one of the cursed is suspected of conspiring with King Louis himself…”

    “To what end?” Garconer wondered, raising an eyebrow.

    “How should I know?” I asked, turning to walk up the stairwell that led into the kitchen above.  “None of the Vampires here would do something so dangerous, and honestly I can’t imagine why any Vampire would bother meddling in human politics…”

    “Are there rumors of a possible uprising?” Garconer wanted to know, following me.

    “It’s highly unlikely,” I said to him, climbing the steps.  “The Vampires are few in number, now, and an uprising for them now would only be signing off on their own death warrant…”

    We emerged from the stairs in silence, entering the kitchen below the banquet hall.  Almost as soon as I set my foot upon the floor, the walls quaked with excitement.  My brow knitted.  Was someone coming up the path?  I couldn’t be sure.  Garconer glanced around him as I pressed on.

    “Is someone here?” he inquired.

    “I’m not sure,” I responded, somewhat perplexed.  “Stay here.”  I reached into my father’s coat pocket and pulled forth his watch to check the time.  It was well passed midnight – curfew itself was over.  I trotted up the second stairwell that brought me to the banquet hall, and I walked through the vast, empty hull of it alone, looking out the windows that lined the wall to my right, spying the moon now set low against the trees.  Dawn would come in a few hours, and then I could finally get some sleep.  Passing through I entered the smaller private dining room where my father and I used to take our meals together, covering its floor with only few steps.  Neither the room nor the hall saw very much use these days…

    Arriving in the foyer, I had time enough to watch as Lillith closed the door after Lord Seraph.  She was wearing her cloak – where had she gone at this hour?  She never left the castle during the full moon.  I stood off to the side, taking shelter in the shadows as she spoke.

    “I have to go prepare Cossi’s bath, now, my King,” I heard her say, almost apologetic in her tone.  “She will be home, soon, and she’ll need her rest – please excuse me.”  She bobbed in a brief curtsy to him and hurried up one of the staircases, leaving him to linger alone in the foyer.  He looked…oddly pensive about something, reflective even.  What on earth could he be thinking about?  I stepped from the shadows, starting towards him.

    “Lord Seraph!” I called, and he turned to me.  Right away that little grin of his appeared, just as it always did whenever something horrid was on his mind.  Like striking a match, my temper flared as if on command.  All of what I felt from this morning – my shock, my embarrassment, my absolute fury – returned to me in an instant.  He had such a way of bringing it on – it was almost incredible.  When he addressed me, it quickly reached its boiling point…

    “Well,” he remarked as I marched towards him, an arrogant smile upon his face.  “What a pleasant surprise…and here I thought I would have to be the one to break our little agreement.”  But the smile wasn’t there for long.  Once within reach I pulled back and slapped him, twisting his head to the side.  God, there was such an air of satisfaction about it…

    “I have no idea what is more insulting,” I growled as he straightened.  “That you saw fit to spy on me beside the pool this morning or spread rumors that you were my suitor!”  He turned to me, his shocked expression bleeding into irritation before putting forth the appearance of mock surprise.  My teeth clenched behind my lips.

    “Pardon me?” he inquired quizzically.  “I haven’t spread any rumors, my lady.”

    “Not true!” I barked.  “You flaunted it to a farmer!”

    “He brought up that you had suitors,” he corrected me, a calm smile spreading serenely.  “I did not flaunt anything.”  I felt my hand jerk at my side, wishing to fly up and slap him again.

    “Then why claim it?” I wanted to know, restraining myself.

    “Because I intend to try my hand at you, dear lady,” he answered blatantly, utterly without regard for shame.  “I feel I can stir you where others could not.”

    For a moment I gaped at him, my fists tightening as his words echoed inside my mind, rattling like dry beans in an empty bowl.  Was that the reason he was here?  To pay suit for the sake of making a conquest of me?  Oh, how I was growing to hate him…

    “…Then what about our agreement, then!?” I tried, taking a different approach.  “You broke it first!  I know it was you who came to the grove this morning!”

    “Why would I follow you to a grove?” he asked me innocently.

    “I don’t know!” I snapped.  “You tell me!  Are you denying it, sir?"

    “What was it that I supposedly did after I followed you?” he wanted to know.  “Do you have proof it was me?  How do you know?”  The eyebrow he lifted upon saying this was all I needed to justify strangling him…but I would have to settle for something more civil, unfortunately.

    “Oh, I have proof indeed…” I sneered quietly, and with that I spun and stomped up the staircase, the passage beyond already lit.  I was certain I was by myself as I made my way to my bedchamber, recalling the little slip of cloth I had discovered earlier in the day.  As I stormed into my room, the lamps here not yet alight, I headed to the nightstand that stood beside my bed to pull open its top drawer and pop out the false bottom.  I seized the cloth, pushed the drawer back in place, and turned, starting back.  I only got so far before being forced to halt, Lord Seraph suddenly blocking my path, his shadowed form looming tall against the light of the hallway, his eyes a brilliant sapphire glow.  I jumped, startled – I hadn’t heard him.  “Did I invite you to follow!?” I demanded to compensate for my fright.  “I don’t believe so!”

    “Did I ask to be invited?” he inquired smoothly, plainly amused by all of this.  “What is your evidence, then?  Let’s see it.”  I held up the cloth for him.

    “From your cloak, my lord…” I gritted.  Again, he raised an eyebrow.

    “This could be anyone’s…” he argued dismissively, looking me in the eyes.  “It’s a common enough garment…”

    I opened my mouth to protest, but again I was stopped.  I couldn’t keep from watching how he licked his lips, slowly and leisurely, like a wolf anticipating his next meal.  There was something…God, I hoped he couldn’t see how my face flushed in the dark…

    “Not so!” I returned, managing.  “I know expensive fabric when I see it, and this is hardly from something commonly worn unless the owner could easily buy more of the same...!”

    “Perhaps it was from one of your many suitors…” he offered with a knowing grin.  “Or did you want it to be me?  Perhaps you even held the fabric to your nose…breathed deeply and closed your eyes…you might have even imagined you smelled me...”

    “I did no such thing...!” I retorted, backing up a step.  Was he getting closer to me just now…?

    “Then…why did you think it was me?” he asked, the timbre of his voice deep and rich like a big cat’s purr.  He stepped towards me, as if to push me back.  I backed up with him, only half aware of his maneuverings…

    “You think I’m unable to recognize something when I see it!?” I sputtered.  “This is yours...!  I know it was you!”  Suddenly my spine hit the bedpost of my bed behind me, my blood running cold to realize it.  I snarled as though cornered.  “...You’re such a liar...”

    “Did you do something you didn’t want anyone to see?” he asked me with another purr, tilting his head in such a way as if to appear curious, his mouth now pronounced, almost beckoning my eyes to look.  “Why would it matter if I had gone for a stroll and happened to see you?  Were you acting wantonly, naked…for all the heavens to see?”  I glared.

    “My affairs are my own – not yours!” I spat.  “What even compelled you to be out in the open in the first place!?”

    “I never said I was…” he responded casually.  “But, if I was…then I would have been following to make sure you were not attacked again…since you seem to attract danger.”  My jaw tightened at this.  Oh, not before meeting you, you overgrown lummox…

    “Playing on assumptions, are we…?” I supposed tightly.

    “Since you are…I thought I would follow suit…” he reasoned.  He drew back a step, granting me some space.  “And if this were true, then…what I got in reward was an attack…” he went on.  “How very rude.”

    “…No more than you deserve, you wretch…” I grumbled.  He seemed to stop at this.

    “Wretch?” he wondered.  “Come now, what have done to deserve this treatment?  I have asked you to dinner…and I have tried to make sure you are safe…” – he paused again, taking some time to glance about my room – “…And I am attempting to help your Duchy by removing a violent rogue.  You know, most would find it amazing I would even be helping a human…considering my history with them.”  I bit my tongue – as if I didn’t know…

    “Oh, I know…” I simmered, folding my arms.  “Poor me…so alone in this world and at the mercy of conspirators on all ends…” I bent my head towards him, furious.  My eyes flashed emerald green, giving him fair warning.  “…Leave me…” I growled.  “Now.”

    “I don’t think you know what it is to be truly alone, my dear,” he said to me.  “If you did…you might not be so willing to turn me away.  Out of all the people in this castle, I am the one who knows how you feel.”  Having said that much, he turned and started for the antechamber.  I would have been perfectly at ease with this, had he not stopped and turned around at the last minute.  “I hate to leave on such a note…” he told me.  “Your anger displeases me – I would rather leave you smiling.”

    “Then have the last word then…” I suggested spitefully, lifting my chin in defiance.  “If that is some consolation…”

    I had fully expected him to take me up on this.  After all, he seemed the sort given to petty little things where his pride was at stake – and losing a quarrel with a woman would be insulting enough.  But then he looked at me, his eyes gleaming, and even through the darkness I could make out how his face shed its arrogance and amusement.  He, for a time, almost looked…concerned.  This worried me.  Why was he looking at me like that…?  What did he see?  When did…oh, go back to being a perverted cur, you fool…!

    “…You are hurt…?” he wondered.  My face dropped, my stomach plunging.  My bruise…no doubt he could pick up the scent of the bleeding.  Damn Vampire…

    “…No,” I lied.

    “Yes…” he murmured, sounding almost gentle.  “I smell the blood.  When did it happen?  I didn't see it this morning…”

    We both stopped.  

    I reached for Rogero, drawing him from his scabbard still slung on my back.

    There could be no saving him now…

    “YOU LECHER...!!”

    As the blade surfaced, Lord Seraph’s eyes flashed.  He saw the silver lining the steel – I know he did.  I swung, having every intention of slicing off his head.  But no matter how swift or sure my movements, he intercepted, laying hold of both my wrists to keep me firmly at bay.  He stepped forward – I stepped back.  The backs of my knees smacked into the foot of my bed, the rest of me already fighting against the massive giant of a man threatening to subdue me.  My balance faltered, and we both toppled backwards.  I landed on my mattress, horrified as he fell with me, pinning me beneath him.  He forced my arms over my head, his grip unyielding, but more so to the hand that still clutched my sword.  He looked down at me, frustrated.

    “You are going to make the wound worse!” he exclaimed.  “Good God, woman – can’t you accept a bit help from me!?”

    “I knew it!  Right along, I knew it!” I shouted, writhing fitfully under him, managing to kick out one leg…which couldn’t help but wrap to his waist.  I snarled at this – as if it wasn’t hellish enough having the weight of the man’s body grinding to mine as he tried to keep me still…or suddenly detecting that region of his anatomy which would have otherwise been right at home precisely where it was.  I bared my teeth, suddenly enraged.  “God, you are so thick-headed...!”

    “Yes, I saw you,” he confessed hurriedly.  “But I was following to make sure you were alright!  You can take the truth or believe what you will…now let me see your wound!”  He pushed me down as I thrashed, grunting.  “Duchess, you are being entirely impossible!”

    “I’m being impossible!?” I gawked, still trying to break his hold.  “Who was the one that decided to go against my wish never to come here!?  By now I not even sure if there is a rogue at all…! "

    “Do you want me to go and dig up the dead bodies so you can inspect them, then?” he challenged.  “Could you stop fighting me and let me see that wound?  I can heal it within seconds…why chance infection!?”

    “It’s a mere bruise, you twit!” I huffed.  “It won't get infected, now release me!”  I managed to rip my left hand from him, grabbing for his hair – God only knows why or what I had thought to do with it.  I yanked him back from me as hard as I could – but my arm could only stretch so far.  All he had to do was bend further than I could reach and my hold was lost on his tresses – which he did without hesitance.  He seized my hand and pinned it down to my side, a thick lock of ebony hair falling softly over his face, his eyes peering through the strands.  He leaned down to me, low and steady.  He was…smiling!?

    “Cossette, please…now is not the time for flirting,” he said quietly.  “How did you get your little bruise, anyway?”  If my eyes could have popped from my skull, they would have.

    “You think this is flirting!?” I cried in dismay.  “You bastard!”  I gave my body the best twist I could, managing to knee him in the ribs with my free leg.  He winced, but it failed to dissuade him.  His smile remained, growing with a sense of intent as he came ever closer to me.  Oh, if he so much as dares to kiss me…

    “Cossette…” he murmured, speaking my name as though he worshiped it.  “You know that I do fully intend to break every record your previous suitors have had…”

    I stilled, needing to catch my breath.  So that was his quest here after all, was it?  I was a challenge and he couldn’t resist.  Fine.  Perhaps the matter of his rogue was not entirely falsehood…but even so, why mix his priorities this way?  Was not finding the rogue more important?  I set in my jaw, swallowing.  His face was inches from mine…I could feel the warmth of his breath along my skin, and I was certain he noticed how my bosom heaved under his breast.  The scent of him was everywhere to me – a clean, almost spicy kind of musk.  Had I not been so embroiled in my anger I would have gone so far to say that it was pleasant – but at present I couldn’t see it as anything but poisonous.  I looked him in the eye…

    “…Not before I break something else…!” I declared, and my head snapped forward, my brow smashing into his face.  He sat up with a yelp, his nose seconds from spurting deep crimson.

    Oh, yes…I was not above fighting dirty.

    “Damn it!” he howled.  Seeing a chance, I straightened the best I could, once again pulling my hand free to grab his face with it, my fingers digging deep into his flesh.

    “Get off of me – NOW…!!” I hollered, shoving him back so that he fell away from the bed with a cry.  He hit his seat upon the floor, clutching at the swollen red mishap that was surely a broken nose.  The sight of it made me smile.

    “I’m starting to wonder if the suitors were the one that had issues or if it was the one being suited,” he growled half to himself, nursing his beak.  I sat up, gripping Rogero in my hand, no doubt looking impossibly disheveled.  My eyes narrowed.

    “…Oh, let me show you,” I said, and I lunged for him, one hand extended to grasp his throat and slam him down as I straddled him, Rogero held back and pointed straight at him, the silver lining shimmering in the light from the hallway.  He stared up at me, but hardly with fear.  There was what might be called amazement: breathless and astounded.  He didn’t seem to mind that I was prepared to run him through.

    “Are you insane, woman!?” he yelled.

    “...Hardly...” I replied, and I drove Rogero towards his chest.  But as fast as I was, Lord Seraph was faster still.  His forearm swung up before falling to the side, catching the underside of the blade and arching it to the floor.  It was an extremely clumsy trick, but terribly affective – his move doubled me over as I tried to keep hold of my weapon, an opportunity he took to seize me by my shoulders and throw me back before looming over me.  I fully anticipated that he would have allowed my skull to crack open upon the floorboards, as there was nothing but flagstones underneath.  But that wasn’t the case.  To my surprise he cupped his hand to the back of my head, his palm providing a cushion as I went down, my wrists locked above me in one of his large, paw-like hands.  I growled with an exasperated sigh, but made no other sound.  I couldn’t.  He was looking at me again…hovering just as he was, breathing deeply as though the air had been stolen from him, the two of us breathing together.  His hand slipped carefully from behind my head, a finger brushing along my hair and past my ear, tracing softly down the curve of my cheek.  He was gazing at me as if he had discovered something thought lost forever.  Was I such an oddity to him?  His touch was unnecessary…but equally so, it was just as unexpected.  I couldn’t bring myself to understand any of it…

    “…You…are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen…” he whispered.  I felt my eyes roll.

    “…Oh, for certain…” I scoffed.  “…Just like every other woman you've taken to bed, no doubt…"

    A floorboard creaked.

    “…What the...OH GOODNESS…!!”

    Lord Seraph’s head flew up, his nose dribbling a thin stream of blood.  I craned my head back to be rewarded with an upside-down vision of Lillith, standing in the doorway as if having a heart attack, a washbasin of water in her hands.  I suddenly realized just how horrible this looked.

    “Oh, for the love of…!”

    I kneed Lord Seraph a second time, willfully hindering his groin.  He froze, his voice lost to him as he rolled away from me, and finally I got to my feet.  I stalked over to recover Rogero, but there was no need for him now.  I wanted, once and for all, to cease this foolishness – but I had to admit…there was something rather charming about the way Lord Seraph curled up upon the floor, much like a snail that had been sprinkled with salt.  It made this whole ordeal quite worth it.

    “…Why…did you…ughn…!”  He seemed unable to finish his own sentence…poor little dear…

    “Am I interrupting something…?” Lillith asked us timidly.

    “Not at all…” I assured her as I laid Rogero on my bed and brushed myself off.  I turned back to Lord Seraph and moved to take him by the back of his coat and one of his ears, lifting him up off the floor.  He scrambled to his feet as I pulled him.  “Lord Seraph was the just on his way out…”

    “Just…leaving…” he rasped.

    “Yes, yes you were…” I said as I propelled him from my chambers and into the hall.  “Come along, my lord…”

    “…This was uncalled for!” he complained as I fairly carried him down the hallway, his own feet barely able to keep up.

    “Oh, I believe it was entirely called for…” I countered, shoving him to stumble down the rest of the hall alone.  “…And if I truly wanted to, my lord, I could have used this whole affair to dispatch of you here and now – count yourself fortunate that I'm allowing you to remain here.”  He looked at me as he righted himself, appearing just as ragged as I was, the state of his nose marring his features…even as he smiled again, his eyes low and leering.  He seemed to be recovering.  Pity.

    “…Your kindness is inspiring, my dear…” he said.

    “Oh, this is not kindness, my lord,” I told him coolly.  “I’m going to prove a point.”

    “Oh?” he wondered.

    “Yes,” I replied simply, clasping my hands behind my back.  “If you insist on trying your hand at me, as you so phrased it...then I insist on proving you just as wrong as those who have come before.”  I leaned towards him from where I was.  “Try as you like, sir,” I whispered sharply.  “Your enterprise will not succeed.”  That’s when he gave me a hearty chuckle, taking a moment to touch his fingers to his nose to assess its tenderness.  It continued to bleed gently as he drew his hand away, and he rubbed the stain between his fingertips absently, as if it failed to trouble him.

    “Aw, well, I already know where to start…” he told me, smiling self-assuredly.  “Whereas your other suitors have tried to get into your bed…I am going to get into your heart – and though it appears to be tight…I think there is enough room for one more in there.”  He looked at me, expecting me to be incensed.  But I laughed at him, then – laughed.  It began slowly and quietly, much like a giggle until it built, rapidly peaking, hitting a rolling shriek, my head falling back onto my shoulders.  God, my humor knew no end – and with my adrenaline now beginning to wane, virtually anything I saw could be misconstrued as hilarious.  But as quickly as it came, my laughter left me, and I turned away on my heels, lungs and voice both mutually spent.

    “Just the kind of absurd declaration I expected…” I sighed.  At least now I knew how to wash my hands of him…

    “Do you walk that way to entice me?” he asked from behind.  I could picture him grinning and crossing his arms, hoping my response to explode before his very eyes.  But if he sought to trigger my rage with that on purpose…then already I saw a way to rebel.

    “Good evening, my lord…” I yawned, paying him no heed as I neared the doorway to my chambers.  It didn’t surprise me that he suddenly appeared at the threshold, his arm fully extended across its width to halt my progress.

    “Aren’t you going to bathe?” he wondered, trying again.  “Your water is likely cooling…”

    “Excuse me, my lord,” I said, hardly favoring him with an unimpressed glance.  “And again, good evening!”  I snatched him by his cravat and pulled him away, slipping into the antechamber.

    “Good evening, my dear…” he tried to say – right as my door slammed in his face.  

    Lillith stared at me from where she was, still holding the washbasin.  I scarcely heard her when she asked if everything was all right.  I was too absorbed to notice as I proceeded to undress and pin up my hair, my insides swarming pleasantly as I walked into the bathroom just off of the bedchamber.  Shedding my chemise, I stepped into my tub: a wide, circular pool that was built into the floor in the same manner as many of the old Roman baths from long ago.  I sank down, the water drawing its heat from the polished bricks of granite that had been set to cook in a pot in the fireplace before being dropped in.  I felt strangely at peace, now – delivered and perfectly content to soak in my tub and then go to bed.  The memory of Lord Seraph’s bloodied nose and crippled pride made my lips curl smugly – it was something that would keep me well as I slept tonight, even as I recalled his willful statement to me…his plan to win my affections.  Very well, then, Lord Seraph – you are welcome to try.  Your failure will be no different from those who have tried before you, and in the end I will see you skulk away into your shadows, never to be seen or heard from again.  I should have been satisfied to leave it at that, of course – I saw no sense in thinking of him further.  But to my confusion, my thoughts had turned to something else…

    “I don’t think you know what it is to be truly alone…”

    My smile faded a little, my head resting back against the rim of my tub.  I knew in my heart that he was wrong…I did know what it was like to be alone – and more than that, to know that same feeling even in the arms of the friends I loved…the family that stood by me even though it could not replace the one I had lost.  It was what made feeling alone even lonelier…

    I doubted he could ever understand.