Chapter ten (Cossette)

    My eyes opened, blinking as my body took in a fresh breath of air.

    It was late afternoon…the day after the full moon.  Slowly I stretched out in the shade of the tall oak that sheltered Etain and I as we lay together upon the ground, a cool breeze waking my senses to all that was around me: the song of birds in the treetops, the scent of fresh spring grass, the warmth of the sunlight from above.  It was such a perfect hour of the day – how hard it was to imagine, then, that just the night before Volven raced wildly along this very path, turning up dust and chaos in their wake.

    Last night was all but a blur to me once I had returned home.  My debacle with Lord Seraph aside, I bathed and slipped off to bed shortly thereafter.  I didn’t stay in my room for very long, however.  As she is wont to do, Lillith was entertaining her lover again – and with no less than her usual vigor, I might add.  I didn’t know for certain what lap they were on, but judging by the commotion that woke me after maybe an hour, possibly the fourth or fifth.  Thinking little of it, I grabbed a pillow and quilt and made my way down to the stables to take refuge in the hayloft above the stalls.  The brownies that kept order in the carriage house must have known I was coming and why – the hay looked freshly turned and smelt sweeter than usual.

    I slept in the loft until late, drawing on towards lunchtime.  By then, the riot of noise from Lillith’s chambers had quieted, if only for a brief recess, and so I went back to my room, groomed and dressed myself for what remained of the day, packed some bread and cheese for a midday meal, and rode out with Etain again – this time to inspect whatever damage might have been left over from the night before.  It was typical to do this following every full moon, if only to determine whether or not the coffers needed to be leaned into to pay for repairs.  This month, however, saw great fortune.  At worst, a single tree had been uprooted and felled across one of the roads…I would have to send Jacobi and two of his helpmates to attend the matter.

    That brought me to now: reclined against Etain as we laid in a clearing just off one of the roads in the middle of the sunlit forest.  Both of us were still without much sleep; it would have to be an early night tonight.  If I was truly lucky, then I would be able to do so without Lord Seraph trying to be helpful again – and such as it was, I was surprised to find that my temper was all but entirely lost on the matter of last night’s shameful behavior.  In my mind, justice had indeed been dealt, and therefore I could move on.  Make no mistake: it still did not sit well with me that he and I were sharing a roof and a space of walls between us.  His resolve in staying was just the sort of aggravating stubbornness that I myself was so well known for, and getting rid of him would have to take some rethinking on my part.  Let him try to gain my favor and fail of his own accord – if I fail to respond, then he fails just as well.  All that was required was that I ignore him, treat his presence with indifference, dismiss him without a second glance, and simply refuse him at as many turns as possible.  It was the sort of tactic that would have worked beautifully on my previous suitors, all of which were blithering mortal men and the truest sense…

    …But I can’t rightly say that I’ve ever been courted by a Vampire before.

    Part of me cringed, then.  Lillith often told me of the differences between Vampires and mortals when it came to finding mates.  Mortals know by instinct that there is only so much time to be spent here on earth, and as such, infidelities tend to run unsurprisingly high.  Husbands take on mistresses…wives take lovers…it is a sad business, but not an uncommon one – and that was where Vampires were apparently the exception.  As immortals, finding a mate for eternity made their lives worth living.  I had no doubt that everlasting life was a lonely thing – I could never be strong enough to endure such a burden.  So, it only made perfect sense that a Vampire would focus their energies on someone they saw as a potential life-mate, obsessing over and coveting them to a such a ridiculous degree that I myself would find it quite uncomfortable and smothering…and part of me dreaded that that was what Lord Seraph hinted at just last night…

    “Because I intend to try my hand at you, dear lady…”

    I shuddered now to recall it.

    Sitting up, I started to adjust myself so I could stand.  I was feeling predictably tender from last night, and I was in no rush.  I had inspected my injury this morning and was relieved to see that the broken skin had healed and the discoloration was already in its final stages of fading; the bruise itself would be gone in a matter of hours, now.  Even so, upon looking up and realizing that the sun would soon be setting, I thought it best that Etain and I start home.  After all, we were a far ways away from Espoir, and it would take us some time to get back – especially as I wasn’t of a mind to push Etain’s gait whatsoever.

    “Come along, love,” I said, getting to my feet and brushing my skirts into place.  “Time to go.”

    Etain sputtered in protest to being made to move, but stood herself up and shook out her mane.  She flicked her tail with annoyance and looked at me with tired eyes.  I made a note to give her some extra apples tonight for all of her hard work.  Mounting her from the ground, I let my skirts and petticoats drape and fall as they wanted, veiling Etain’s back.  I normally didn’t saddle or even bridle her for times such as this – neither of us had anywhere urgent to go, and I could grasp her mane just as easily.  My feet swung free and bare without boots or stockings, and I gave her a gentle nudge in her flanks with my heels to send her forward at a lazy, unhurried walk.  I yawned and hung my head, supposing that I could have stayed in that clearing just a little bit longer…




    Night fell.

    It was past twilight when Etain and I finally made it to the path that led up to my family’s home, the sun having set and the stars coming out to shine against the dark velvet sky.  Entering Espoir, I saw families turning in for the evening: children running to answer the calls of their mothers, fathers lighting and hanging lanterns in their homes…everything was how it was meant to be.  When we reached the drive, I dismounted and let Etain her show herself to the stables while I strode to the front doors.  Walking in, it was almost completely dark, save for one lamp on a small wooden table set off to one side.  Its flame was turned up as high as it could go, and while that would have been light enough for a closed room, it offered only so much to the surrounding shadows…  

    “Lillith…!” I called, my voice ringing down the hall.  “Lillith!”

    “There you are, madam!” she answered, scolding as she skirted towards me.  “It’s late!  You should have been in an hour ago…”

    “I know, I’m sorry,” I sighed apologetically.  “I didn’t mean to keep you…”

    “Well, come and get something to eat, then,” she said, taking me by the hand and leading me into the dining room, already lit with candlesticks.  I found this somewhat unusual – I normally took my meals in my quarters upstairs.  Without stopping to ask why, I seated myself before the tray of food Lillith had laid out for me: a bowl of hot stew with a plate of bread and cheese.  The stew itself was an old favorite from childhood: a seafood dish that was almost like a chowder, laden with fish, prawns, clams, and potatoes.  I savored the smell of it, taking comfort in its familiarity.  Yet before I could take the first spoonful, I stopped to see someone out of the corner of my eye.  It was Lord Seraph’s manservant, looking quite sheepish to be here but also rather inclined to hide it however he could.

    “Monsieur Ailo,” I gathered, looking over at him.  “May I assist you with something…?”

    “Nay, your Grace,” he said.  “However, my master directs me to inform you that he has left.”  I shot out of my chair, nearly knocking it over.

    “Left!?” I exclaimed, my entire being suddenly wanting to bound for joy.  “When!?”

    “Just this evening,” he replied.  “But he will be back tomorrow night.”  My heart sank as quickly as it leapt.  Damn.

    “Oh…” I murmured.  “Well, where did he go, then, if I may inquire?”

    “Paris, your Grace,” he answered.  “To tend to some urgent business matters.”

    “Business?” I questioned, not believing it.  “What manner of business?”

    “He would not say, my lady,” he told me, and he bowed himself out of the dining room.

    As Monsieur Ailo left, I returned to my seat, my mind clamoring with questions to such a point that I almost forgot that my dinner was waiting for me on the table.  Lord Seraph had left?  To Paris, of all places?  Why?  What called him away?  Had he received word of his rogue after all?  I couldn’t think of any other explanation, but even then this proved to be faulty.  Paris was a good distance from here – how on earth could he expect to be back tomorrow?  Perhaps he would find himself tied over in Paris with whatever affair that summoned him there and he would not return.  Oh, how I prayed that was it.  It meant things could go back to normal: no more rogues…no more Vampire Kings…and no more undesired advances.  It almost seemed like too much to ask for…

    …Of course, that was when common sense announced itself to me.  If Lord Seraph expected to be away for a time, even if he hoped to be back after merely a day or so, wouldn’t he still have taken his servant with him?  That he left Monsieur Ailo here to inform me of his whereabouts when Lillith could have easily done the same thing…it suddenly proved to be an affective dent in my theory, and therefore, a decently-sized crack in my newfound elation.

    Hoping to shrug it off, I did away with my meal, eating in silence while Lillith went about her chores, as well as draw another bath for me.  I finished my supper and rose from the table, leaving my plate and bowl behind to be cleared once I was gone.  But I didn’t go straight to my room.  Instead, I walked about my home for a time, looking over what remained of my family’s estate: the bare floors…the naked walls…the empty shelves…the rooms without color or décor.  My purpose wasn’t to look around and remind myself of what I no longer had…no, I didn’t need to be aware of such things anymore.  Duchess or not, I lived simpler than many of those of a lesser station, and yet…that was fine.  I didn’t need to have expensive furnishings to prove my status to anyone, nor did I truly need heirlooms to remember a loved one by.  True wealth is measured in how many friends a man has to call his own – and if that was indeed true, then my life was rich enough.  I would see that for myself on the morrow…

    But for now, I was looking to waste time before turning in, hoping to perhaps bore myself so I could keep from thinking of Lord Seraph’s departure.  That he left did little to bother me – but that he might return had me on edge.  I couldn’t understand it…couldn’t I just use his absence to pack his things and leave his bags in the drive for him to find?  The thought had crossed my mind…but a part of me suspected that Monsieur Ailo would behave less like a manservant and more like a small terrier if I were to make such a move.  Poor Monsieur Ailo…my heart went out to him a bit.  He was loyal to his master, a trait that I admired, and he also seemed to display a somewhat peculiar affection for him – which, of course, appeared to go either unnoticed or unreciprocated.  I did not envy him for this – I myself could never be so cruel to one who served me…

    Upon returning to my room, Lillith helped me undress for my bath.  The water was hotter than usual – Lillith probably let the granite bricks cook on the fire longer than normal.  But, the warmth was welcome, and I slid down the inside of the tub with a shudder of pure bliss running through me.  As I washed, Lillith bustled to and fro preparing my bed.  She turned down the covers, set out a fresh shift for me, and filled the bed warmer with hot coals before sealing it closed and pushing it under the foot of my mattress.  When she was through, she came and sat on the floor behind my head with a brush and a plain white ribbon, brushing out my hair so she could plait it into a braid for the night – just as she used to do when I was little.  Even now as a grown woman I still enjoyed being pampered like this, if only for a little while.  But sadly, too much was preying on my mind for me to unwind.

    “…What do you think of Lord Seraph leaving?” I asked her from nowhere.  The question must have sounded rather offhand to her, but I wanted to see if she could provide some insight.

    “What is there to think about?” she asked in return, coasting the brush along my hair in her hands.  “He is our King – he always has more than one matter to attend to…”

    “You know I have no reason to believe that, Lillith…” I sighed, closing my eyes.  “Either his claims of being the Vampire King or that it is merely business he is conducting elsewhere…”

    “Then what will it take to convince you?” she asked me.  “Isn’t my word good enough?”

    “It’s not that I doubt your word, Lillith,” I told her as she parted my hair three separate ways, knowing full well she didn’t believe me.  “…But I simply wish to know what I’m dealing with.”

    “Cossi…” Lillith began gently as she wove my tresses into a braid.  “Let it be.  It’s been a long day.  I know you will need your rest.  Let it go for now…”

    “But why did he leave?” I started again.  “What could have possibly called him away?”  But Lillith just giggled at me…and somewhat knowingly, at that…

    “You’re sounding rather worked up about this…” she said.  “If I didn’t know better, I would say that him leaving is starting to bother you…”

    “Good heavens, no!” I burst, nearly yanking myself around to look at her, startled by her assumption.  “…Why on earth would I be!?  He’s gone!  So what!?  I don’t care…!”

    “…Then why deny it so?” she asked.  I stopped.  I knew why I was so concerned with him leaving – I only wanted to know what he was up to.  But I saw all too clearly how my questions could be misinterpreted to mean something else.

    “…Never mind,” I grumbled at last.  But Lillith just laughed at me as she tied off my braid.

    “I wouldn’t worry about it, my lady,” she said as she stood.  “But to be honest…I really think he fancies you.”  I spun around so fast the bathwater splashed up over the rim, pooling on the floor.

    “…You can’t be serious!?” I cried as she left.

    “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, returning moments later with a robe.

    “Well, whatever would give you that impression!?” I demanded, close to despair.

    “…Er…lucky guess, perhaps?” she tried.  

    I wailed something in Italian to stave off drowning myself in the tub.

    “Oh, it’s not as bad as all that…” she said, unfurling the robe for me.  “Come out now before you catch a chill…”

    “Let me…” I groaned pitifully.  Lillith raised an unimpressed eyebrow at my antics.

    “Cossi…” she began, using a tone of voice that I haven’t heard since I was at least thirteen.  Muttering to myself, I stepped out of the tub, Lillith wrapping me in the robe before going to lift the pewter stop from the drain so that the tub could empty.  Walking into my bedchamber, I dried off hurriedly, pulled on my shift, and climbed into bed as Lillith came to pull up the covers.  Then she paused, looking at me curiously.  “…Is something wrong?” she wanted to know.

    “What do you think?” I asked.  “I don’t care that Lord Seraph left – I was excited for it, in fact!”

    “So what’s troubling you?” she wondered, sitting on the edge of the bed.  I looked off into some far corner of the chamber, shaking my head.

    “…I can’t read him,” I replied quietly.  “…I can’t tell what he’s thinking.  I don’t know what his plans are, nor do I have any way of determining them.  He is a perfect stranger in my home, and I can’t tell if he’s an agent of his own devices or someone else’s!”  I fell back into my pillows with a groan, covering my face with my hands.  “…He’s so…so…”

    “…Handsome, clever, charming, witty?” Lillith supplied.

    “Irritating!” I snapped.

    “Ah…”

    “I mean, what gives him the right to pay suit to me?” I asked aloud, not realizing how Lillith stared just then.  “He can’t be seeing this as any more than a game to amuse himself with!  God, what a pathetic scoundrel!  He must be bored out of his mind to do something so petty!  I’m a human woman with hardly any prospects, and he’s a…!”

    “…He desires to pay suit to you!?” Lillith broke in suddenly.  I stopped my ranting long enough to process her question.

    “…Uh…yes…?” I answered uncertainly.  Lillith’s eyes widened with unbridled glee as she gathered a gasp in her chest.

    “Cossi, this is marvelous news!” she shrieked, bouncing on the bed to get closer to me.

    “No, it isn’t!” I yelled, astonished by her exuberance.

    “Yes, it is!” she insisted, grinning as she grabbed my hands and pulled me up.  “It means his heart is finally healing!  He’s able to love again!”

    “What!?” I cried out.  “What do you mean!?”

    “Don’t you remember me telling you?” Lillith asked, blinking despite her smile.  “Surely I must have told you about the great love of the Vampire King’s life!”

    “…No,” I answered honestly, my brow furrowed at her.  “You never mentioned anything about the love of his life – I was hardly aware he had the capacity for it!”

    “Oh…” Lillith murmured, drawing back a little.  “Well, it’s of little consequence.  I won’t plague you with it tonight.”  She kissed my cheek.  “Get some rest, Cossi – I’ll see you tomorrow.”  That much in mind, she turned and sailed out of the room – I hardly had a chance to bid her goodnight as she closed the door after herself.  I rested back against my pillows, my poor addled brain throbbing with fresh questions.  The Vampire King…a lover!?  It made no sense to me at all.  Everything I knew of him was too dark and wretched to even contemplate the idea of him having feelings – nor was I foolish enough to mistake rape for affection, which might have been closer to the truth.  I sank deeper into bed, my guts twisting.  First, Lord Seraph left for Paris for reasons not yet known to me, along with the threat of his return, and now I learn that the very monster of my childhood might have once had the love of another!  If ever there was a way to lay my thoughts sideways…

    I feared I would get little sleep because of this.




    Morning dawned a cool and solemn gray – common enough for an early April morn.  The air hung with a fine mist, one that would likely burn off once the sun rose.  I loved mornings like this.  Whereas some might take such conditions as the perfect excuse to lay idle in bed, I saw it as a chance to see nature in all her grace from one phase to the next.

    I slept more soundly than I thought I would, even after last night’s revelations.  Lillith woke me at my normal time – a quarter past 6:00 – and she arrived with breakfast: a poached egg, a roll with some honey, a cup of chocolate, and small bowl of light porridge with some sugar and cream.  As I ate, she set out my clothes, swept the ashes from the hearth, and opened the windows to let in some fresh air.  The sun had not yet risen, and thus she was in no danger.  But she left it at that, kissed me good morning, and departed to retire for the day.

    Once through with my meal, I washed, dressed, and headed once more down to the stables.  My first order of business was to look in on the two black beauties I rescued with Garconer the other night.  They both seemed to take to their new surroundings with ease, neither of them appearing the least bit put off by the unseen helpers that maintained their stalls.  They looked well, with bright eyes, upright ears, and thoughtful dispositions.  Satisfied, I threw them some hay and drew Etain from her stall to head into Espoir.  There was someone in town that I needed to visit – including some little ones who were probably more than a little eager to see me…

    The ride down the mountainside was about as pleasant as one could wish for: cool, clean winds, bright sun, and a forest awash in varying hues of emerald light – it hardly mattered at all that it took a half an hour to get all the way down.  The moment we arrived, I climbed down from Etain’s back and let her wander off to graze as I walked on ahead, the common sounds of daily hustling and bustling already alive and well.  It didn’t take long for people to notice I was about in town – curtsies, bows, and doffed hats seemed to come from everywhere, all of them as friendly as they were respectful.  The most I could do was smile and wave in return…until…

    “HEADMISTRESS!!”

    Slight arms flung themselves about my waist.  Several more voices echoed in kind, and suddenly I was set upon by what felt like dozens of hands grabbing, clutching, and holding tight.  I was overwhelmed and brought to the ground, surrounded by youthful giggling.  But I couldn’t help but smile.  After all, these were my children.

    You see, Espoir was without a proper schoolmaster to tend the children here, and that was where I assumed responsibility for them.  I was their teacher – their Headmistress, as they called me – and they were my students.  Every winter and summer they were mine to instruct in the hopes that they could exceed the limits of their class, as more and more forward-thinkers spoke of education as a basic essential for the people – an idea I found myself quite in favor of.  I had beseeched Espoir’s priest, Father Chastain, for his permission to turn his church into a place of learning, so I could pass on tools such as reading, mathematics, writing, music for those with the inclination, and what languages I myself knew – English, Italian, some Greek, and a little Hungarian.  I was thrilled beyond words when he said yes.  If this much could change the lots of the children for the better, then it was such a joy to be able to give it.  It was one of the few things that made me truly smile anymore…that, and the barrage of questions they battered me with…

    “When did you get back from the King’s palace?”

    “Did you meet the Queen?”

    “Hey, no shoving!”

    “Did you bring us back anything?”

    “I want to sit there!”

    “No, you can’t!”

    “Aw, you’re barefoot again, Headmistress!”

    “Did you fight off any thieves on your way home again?”

    “Hey!  Clear off, you rascals…!”

    Like a startled flock of geese, the children shrieked and scattered every which way, leaving me alone on the ground, laughing so hard I nearly wept.  Wiping my eyes, I looked up to see an open hand offered before me.  I grinned.

    “Jacobi…”

    “At your service, your Grace,” he smiled as I took his hand.  “Up you go!”  Grasping tight, Jacobi pulled me to my feet and caught me up in his arms, squeezing me in a hug that wrung the air from my body.  But, that was the sort of man Jacobi was: loving, kind, and just a little rough around the edges.  His appearance was unmistakable to me: a tall, burly frame clad in trousers, boots, and an open shirt, wild salt and pepper hair pulled back into a loose tail with a full beard to match, and a pair of startlingly bright silver eyes, their whites blackened out like their pupils – the eyes of a Volven.  He was the leader of the Volven within the realm of the Duchy, and his word was regarded as final among the rest of his kind.  Yet Jacobi had always been a strong ally of my family for as long as I could remember – he and Corbeau, both.  As he finally set me down, I strained to gain some wind back, my hand to my chest as he steadied me.

    “…Good morning so far…?” I breathed, looking up at him.

    “Aw, you know a good run in the moonlight always does me good,” he rumbled deeply.  “What of you?  I hear that Etain lost you on the first leg of the route…”

    “Oh, one of the Volven got fresh…” I replied, waving it off.  “Nothing to fear.  But what about yourself?  I heard a pup got away from you.”

    “Aye, the little bugger,” he grunted.  “I caught him eventually, though – not before he rang my bell a bit…oh!”  He took a moment and reached into one of his pockets.  “I have this for you,” he said, and he held out none other than my missing boot spur.  My eyes rounded.

    “You found it!” I marveled as he gave it back to me.  “I thought it was lost for good!”

    “Hardly,” Jacobi laughed.  “The poor bastard who took it coughed it up yesterday morning.”  He smiled at me when I gave him a look.  “Fear not – it’s already been cleaned…”

    “And you have my thanks for that,” I sighed with relief.  “Truly.”

    “Have you been to see Marguerite, yet?” Jacobi asked me, changing the subject.  “The big day isn’t far off, and she’s been asking for you…”

    “I’m on my way there now,” I answered, patting him on the arm as I went.  “Regards to the others if you see them – oh, and a tree is down on one of the roads along the route.  Could you and two others look into clearing it, please?”

    “Consider it done, your Grace,” he said.  I grinned over my shoulder at him in thanks, the feel of damp earth between my toes as I walked towards the edge of town.

    Sitting on the southern line was a small stone cottage: the home of Marguerite Segal, the miller’s young widow.  Her husband, Jean, passed away this past winter, taken by fever and infection after an accident in his family’s mill.  If that were not enough, Marguerite herself was also expecting their first and, sadly, only child together – and she was due to give birth any day, now.  As it happened, the closest midwife lived out in Ailes, and while she made regular trips to and from Espoir to see Marguerite, I often saw to her myself – at first once a week, and now nearly every other day, anticipating the arrival of her baby.  The birth of a child was always something to rejoice in as far as I was concerned, but as I walked down the road to Marguerite’s cottage, I couldn’t help but worry for her health, which had never been ideal by any standard.  Ever since she was a child she’s always been poorly, sometimes spending days at a time bedridden.  When we first learned she was with child back in the autumn, we all braced ourselves and each other.  Behind our smiles, we fretted that we would lose her, a tragedy that was far too common even among the strongest of women.  When Jean passed away, her grief was such that we feared she would lose the baby…and in the time since…well…

    Knocking on her door, I waited for a response.

    “Hello?” called a sweet-sounding voice from within.  “Come in, please!”  Doing as told, I let myself in, immediately finding Marguerite in a wooden rocking chair beside the crackling fireplace.  She turned to me with large blue eyes, her ivory-fair face smiling, her flax-golden hair tumbling softly about her waist and hips where it was not pulled back in place.  Every bit of her looked the part of a fairytale princess, and I held my hand up to her as she started to stand.

    “Oh, don’t you dare stand up for me, my lady,” I scolded with a smile as I wiped my feet on the doormat outside.  “Sit, sit, sit – please!”

    “But your Grace, I…” she began.

    “Not another word,” I said, closing the door and sweeping across the floor to her.  “Sit down and for God’s sake put up your poor feet!”  At a loss, Marguerite did as I commanded and leaned to where her stitching basket rested on the hearth, picking up her knitting.  I glanced over at her work as I knelt before her, spying her progress on a pair of knit booties she was making.  I smiled broadly at this and moved to lift her skirts to check her legs.  “How are you feeling?” I asked her gently.  “Your ankles giving you trouble?”

    “As always,” she replied softly, her pink mouth curling into a shy smile.  “But the midwife says that this is normal for women in my state…”

    “That it is,” I answered, raising her skirts and removing her slippers and stockings.  “I just want to see how we’re faring this morning.”  Carefully, I examined her feet, her ankles, and her calves.  Her ailing had begun four months ago, when her legs were found to be bloated and sore.  Even so, the symptoms usually abated with a long soak in cool water and a massage to help the blood flow – and upon present inspection, I found both legs taut with swelling.  Thus, I went to fill a large basin with water from the pump outside.  Yet as I carried the bucket out to retrieve the water I needed, I couldn’t help but take pause at something.  It was in the air…an aroma of some kind.  I stopped and faced the wind, looking around, suddenly bewildered.

    …Why on earth was I suddenly smelling…roses…?

    At first, I thought that perhaps Marguerite had spilt the bottle of rose oil I had left with her the last time I visited.  It did marvels for her aches and pains when applied, and I saw nothing wrong with letting her keep it.  But I couldn’t see her being careless enough to spill it – rose oil was difficult to come by, and the scent, though concentrated, wasn’t as strong as what I now smelled.  Even more perplexing was that it seemed to come and go at random, one minute masking itself from my senses and the next billowing about in the wind.  I was so baffled for it at one point that I stopped the pump so I could walk around the cottage to see if there were any other visitors about.  To my confusion, there was no one to be seen.  Reluctantly, I decided to let the matter go.

    From dawn till dusk of that day, I happily tended to Marguerite and her needs, taking much pleasure in her company in the meanwhile.  After filling the basin with water, I poured in a few drops of rose oil and set her feet to soak.  As she rested, I made my rounds about the house as I normally did, checking to make sure her pantry was full, building a fire in the oven for baking the day’s bread, emptying the chamber pot in the privy, and tidying as I went along.  While upstairs, I found a cradle already standing ready in a corner of Marguerite’s room, the sight of it bringing a heavy sort of cheer to my heart.  How I hoped she would survive childbirth to rock her little one…

    When the morning chores were finished, I sat on the floor and lifted Marguerite’s feet from the basin, laying them in a towel in my lap so that I could rub the muscles in her feet and legs over with more rose oil to ease their discomfort.  As I worked, we laughed and talked of casual things like old friends, trading news and gossip and delighting in each other’s companionship.  It meant almost nothing that she was a miller’s widow by chance and that I was a Duchess by birth.  Under our garments, we were but people – and people exist for nothing else if not each other.  It was our nature to reach out to those like ourselves, and I always preferred the camaraderie of a simple woman of the countryside than the vain, frivolous peacocks of Versailles…

    As the day went on, numerous others came to call.  Marguerite’s neighbors from up the road stopped in to see her and inquire about her health, asking if anything else needed to be done around her home.  It was when the first wave of visitors came that I decided to have them sit with her while I slipped away to bake the bread.  When the morning drew on into the afternoon, more came and went – and all of them stopped to wish Marguerite well and to speak with me in person.  Word had apparently spread that I was here, and those that needed to see me were directed to this small stone cottage.  There was nothing dire about any of it, I was glad to know – merely a thirst for news from the outside and queries into how my journey home was…as well as some concerns involving rumors about some new unknown suitor who was staying in my home.  I forced smiles until my face felt about ready to crack, informing all who asked that there was no suitor, nor was there any cause for worry.  I would deny it until the Second Coming of Christ for all I cared…even if the blackguard did exist.

    …Curiously, though, the scent of roses remained, even indoors, and it became all the stronger whenever the suitor was asked about…but no one else seemed to noticed it…

    Late in the afternoon, when the well-wishers seemed to thin in number, I set myself with the task of cooking supper for Marguerite and myself – I had every intention of not leaving until it was nearly time for bed.  But just as I went to prepare something, Jacobi stopped in unannounced, a paper parcel in his hands.  He had taken the liberty of purchasing a liver from the butcher, along with a slab of bacon and a wrap of fresh goat cheese.  Many of my peers would deem such goods unfit for any but the peasantry, but I was overjoyed to see them.  Liver was a good choice for pregnant women, as was the cheese – and a little bit of bacon for flavoring never hurt anyone.  Jacobi even brought his fiddle with him, content to sit and play beside the fireplace as I busied myself with the food while Marguerite finished her knitting, rocking herself in time to Jacobi’s songs and humming along with his tunes, the very picture of quiet, maternal beauty.  

    In the meantime, I cut down the bacon into thick slices, laying them in a heavy cast-iron frying pan in the fire.  As the bacon cooked, I cut the liver into three parts and put it to the side.  I managed to find an onion in the larder, and made use of it as well.  Once the bacon was done, I set it to drain on the butcher’s paper and fried the liver and onions in the drippings, leaving the liver in for no more than a minute on either side.  Finally, I spread the cheese on the freshly baked bread, and served everything together.  True to form, Jacobi also brought a flask of ale with him to share – but whereas I readily accepted, Marguerite politely refused.

    But before long, the evening came to the inevitable hour of departure, and it was only after I had washed, dried, and put away the dishes and got Marguerite to bed did I even conceive of going home.  Marguerite was such a sweet, dear thing…I almost couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her – not when I knew that she could very well go into labor in the middle of the night.  But, she bade me leave, and I did not refuse her, promising to be back either tomorrow or the day after.  We hugged and kissed goodnight, and then Jacobi and I saw ourselves out.  As we left, he offered to escort me home – to which I punched him in the shoulder and gave him my best.  He laughed a booming laugh, affording me a farewell embrace before going off into the night.  I then turned and started down the road, my thumb and pinky in the corners of my mouth to give a sharp whistle to Etain.  She trotted up a few minutes later, refreshed from her daylong dalliance in the nearby fields.  I hoisted myself onto her back, steered her towards the pathway home, and coaxed her to take off at a canter, speeding us along through the nighttime dark.

    Like the night before, I dismounted from Etain in the drive, and we went our separate ways.  But as I approached the doors, the flung themselves open with a start, causing me to stop short.  There was Lillith, her eyes wide.

    “He’s come back!” she breathed excitedly.  “Lord Seraph has returned!”  

    I set in my jaw to hear this – and it had been such a good day, too…

    “Then I will be heading to my room,” I told her as I started to brush on by.  “I have no desire to see him…”

    “Well, he desires to see you, mistress,” she replied as she closed the doors.  I stopped.

    “Surely you’re jesting…” I cringed.  But Lillith just shook her head and took me by my hands.

    “No jest,” she said, pulling on me.  “Come!  He’s waiting for you in the dining room.”  I dug in my heels in protest.

    “But Lillith, I…!”

    “No buts!”

    “Lillith…!”

    “Cossi, I swear, if you don’t come with me this instant, then I will throw you over my knee and give your seat the fanning of your life!  You might be a grown lady of twenty-four, but I’m still a good century your senior so don’t think I wouldn’t!”  

    I groaned with exasperation, but allowed Lillith to drag me with her.  There were just some things I couldn’t argue with her about – and the subject of age happened to be one of them.  Arriving in the dining room a moment later, candelabras lit and lining the table, Lillith let go of my hand so I could regain some form of ladylike countenance.  Sure enough, there he was, standing with his back to us with Monsieur Ailo obediently at his side.  They were positioned next to one end of the table, intently examining something that was lying across its surface.  They turned as we entered, Lord Seraph’s eyes like two bright specks against what shadows flickered about us.  He smiled…well…quite pleasantly, actually…

    “Aw, Duchess…” he began.  “Just the person I wanted to see…”

    At first, I was hardly of a mind to reply to him.  He might have wanted to see me, but I barely felt inclined to return the sentiment – at least, until Lillith jabbed her elbow sharply into my side, hoping to provoke a reaction of some sort.  My cheeks flared – I know Lord Seraph saw, although he at least did me the courtesy of pretending not to notice.  I made to speak, if grudgingly so.

    “…So I see,” I responded coldly.  “How might I be of assistance, then?”

    “Well…” – he turned around; I could hear the soft crinkling of paper – “…Ailo, Lillith…would you excuse us, please?  I would like to talk with the Duchess alone for a moment.”  Adhering to his wish, Lillith bobbed in a gentle curtsy and removed herself, giving me a rather smug look as she left.  Ailo followed suit with a heavy sigh, looking terribly agitated.  I turned to watch them as they situated themselves at the other end of the hall outside, content to mind their own business until otherwise called for.  “I want to apologize for how I acted with you…” I heard Lord Seraph say, bringing my attention around.  “It was uncalled for and deplorable.  Though my intentions were to look at your wound, the way I carried myself about it was…well…” He stood off to the side, gesturing to what appeared to be a long rolling bolt wrapped in paper and string laying on the table.  “I bought you something to make up for it…hopefully.”

    “…What is it?” I asked him carefully, hanging away.  This was not the same creature who tried to hold me beneath him just the other night – why the sudden shift in character…?

    “Lillith informed me that you like to sew,” he went on.  “And that buying you something for a new Easter gown would be better than buying the gown itself.”  He offered me such a faint little smile, one that brimmed with such sincerity that I felt my head spin to behold it, wondering just what he was trying to play at.  “That was my urgent business I had to attend to,” he told me.  “I am sorry for how I acted, and your happiness and acceptance is of urgent business to me.”  With that he indicated the roll on the table again, and I found myself stepping towards it, my curiosity getting the better of me as I unwrapped it.  What had he gone out of his way to purchase – and for me, of all people?  As if I truly need his…

    My thoughts fell short, my eyes widening as my fingers twitched against the paper wrapping.  My breathing ceased for a time, and like a frightened child uncovering something forbidden, I peeled back the wrap to see that the roll was none other than a bolt of fabric – fine green silk, the shade light and spring-like, but not quite earthy.  It was more…ethereal…celestial, even.  Immediately, I realized that my hands were unwashed from the day’s work, and as such they were not in the best of states to handle something so marvelously woven.  I couldn’t bring myself to risk smudging the fibers with dirt or grease for even a moment, not even to brush the silken threads with my hand, letting my skin slip and slide along its smooth surface.  I was helpless to do anything but stare like a fool, seeing at once that what I had before me was a specimen of unrivaled perfection and quality.  Fighting to recover myself, I looked up at Lord Seraph, my expression probably as surprised as anything.

    “…Do I even wish to inquire as to the cost of this…?” I breathed.

    “It’s not nice to ask the cost of a gift,” he chided me gently.  “But the cost of possibly losing your favor was far higher than any coin to me.”

    My favor…?  My favor…!?  He hardly had my favor to start with!  How could he stand to lose what he didn’t possess?  More than that, why was he so needy for it?  God, it made me sick to entertain the reasons why.  But in the face of so elegant a gift laid before me…could I truly be so horrid to voice this?  Could I really be that poor-minded and shallow?  I swallowed back a growing lump in my throat – God knew it must have been my pride – and I took a slow, steady breath.

    “…I…I don’t know if I could accept this…” I tried to say in a quiet voice, only to flinch hard as Lord Seraph moved to my side.  He placed his fingers under my wrist, gently lifting my hand and then taking a corner of the fabric from the rest of the roll to lay it against my skin.  I nearly shuddered to feel it, so afraid that it might become stained.  Oh, but the softness of it…the slight caress it gave…oh…only true silk felt this way…

    “You are going to deny this color with your lovely skin?” he wondered in a low voice, continuing to prop my wrist with his fingers.  I felt the scorch of his eyes drift slowly from the top of my head and down the length of my hair, lower and lower down my arm until my hand came under his scrutiny.  I had to confess…the silk did seem to glow against me…or was it merely his influence that made me believe it so?  Either way…I felt a growing need to want to give in and fall in love with something so desirable.  This silk…I couldn’t hope of buying anything of a like caliber even if I saved for it…and Lord Seraph seemed to realize this.  “Please accept this,” he said to me.  “I do mean what I said…from the bottom of my heart.”  My breathing hitched for a moment, and how my face burned.  My voice had abandoned me – I couldn’t speak.  I felt that if I did my words would be little more than stifled squeaks that could only serve to rake the inside of one’s ear raw.  It wasn’t helped at all when I felt Lord Seraph lean close, his breath rolling like a hot tide against my neck and cheek.  “Just promise me…” he whispered warmly.  “You will dance with me in this gown when you make it…”

    I shivered, struggling with myself.  My mouth opened, trying to find words enough to speak.

    “…I…”

    “You’re…welcome,” he chuckled, and he then withdrew, my hand coming to rest on the table.  I stood away from him a little, my eyes lingering on the bolt of silk, praying that I could collect myself enough to make it through this.

    “…And this comes by way of apology…?” I finally managed to stammer.  Lord Seraph’s gaze left me, but I knew he was smiling to himself.  I didn’t have to turn around to see it to know that it was there.  How strange…

    “Apology…and thanks for allowing such a man to stay in your home…” he explained.  “…And perhaps…I wanted to see what you looked like when you smile.”  I turned again to look him in the eyes.  Surely that couldn’t have been true…not for an instant.  Then I happened on a thought, one born more of confusion than a need to trap him in his own lies.

    “…But…your manservant said you went to Paris…” I said, knowing full well the long trek between the capitol city and the Duchy.

    “Indeed,” he said, looking at the silk.  “I heard they had the finest silks in the country…” His words fell away briefly, his finger absently tracing along the span of the material.  “Money means little to me…except when it can still a tongue or perhaps change a heart…” he murmured.

    “…But Paris is a great distance from here,” I reasoned.  “You couldn’t have…”

    “I flew…” he answered, cutting me short.  “Not all of our kind can, but it does help with traveling long distances…” He smiled, looking over at me.  “I am sure you have heard the stories about me…” he said.  “Six wings…horns…”

    I gaped at him.  Six wings…horns…these were the very things that the Vampire King was reputed to have.  God, I must have looked like the village idiot just now.

    “…There is only one Vampire with wings, my lord…” I said, perhaps somewhat shakily.  “…Let alone six of them…”

    “Yes,” he said.  “Me.”  He looked me pointedly in the eyes, as if to acknowledge that I did not believe him, and that he didn’t care.  He would play this role for as long as he could, and damn those that tried to stop him.  He straightened a little to go on, but his look remained.  “My brother had wings, and my father…” he said, his nonchalance driving his point home.  “I have not seen the trait lately, but that does not mean that it won’t show up again…”

    “But…the Vampire King had no relations,” I argued, taking a step back.  “No relatives…no family…no…” I paused, my face dropping.  I had been drawing on what knowledge of the Vampire King I had as imparted to me by Lillith and my father – none of which, I realized, concerned any of his familial ties…or his lovers, either.  Had I been of a lesser mentality, I would have gone so far as to remark on that part specifically, but I didn’t.  I couldn’t.  What held me back from broaching this subject…?  Why was I suddenly so adverse to it?  Perhaps I had reached my limit for the day and had no great need to do battle over something so trivial.  I looked away, clearing my throat.  “…Never mind.” I murmured.

    “Oh, haven’t you heard the story of how I was defeated by my good and righteous brother?” he asked, his tone suddenly full of bitterness.  Instantly, I had the sense that there was ice under my feet, and that it was thinning – and I wasn’t prepared to go on until it gave way from under me…

    “Be that as it may…” I murmured.  “It is late…and now I will take my leave.”  With not a word more I started out, feeling in a hurry to get away as quickly as possible – so much so I hadn’t thought to consider that I was leaving empty-handed.

    “Duchess…” I heard Lord Seraph call.  “You forgot your gift.”  Again, I stopped, this time in the dining room’s doorway as I glanced back.  He was looking at me, his eyes dark, appearing almost hurt.  “Is my company so unpleasant that you would rush out, forgetting something of some value?” he asked.  I withheld a sigh.  I couldn’t help the twinge of guilt I felt, now that I saw him.  But I looked at him coolly, finding no strength to be unkind to him or even inconsiderate – and while I might have been able to at any other time…for right now I couldn’t summon the heart for it.

    “…I don’t know,” I told him softly, as if in defeat.  “It would seem that, as a hostess, I have failed in my duty to become acquainted with my guest…undesired or not…and I am weary from a day spent where I have been needed most.  Forgive me in this…if you can.”  I turned to leave again, this time flagging Lillith to me.  She and Ailo both returned to the dining room, Ailo slinking to his master’s side, frowning deeply, and Lillith going to retrieve the silk.  

    “Perhaps tomorrow we could become better acquainted,” Lord Seraph offered, sounding hopeful.  But I could not share in his optimism.  Although I knew he could not see, I closed my eyes, my head resting back against my shoulders as I sighed: heavily…raggedly…tiredly.  I was exhausted…spent from both the long day and this childish runaround.  I wanted no more of it.

    “I doubt that would be possible, my lord,” I told him.  “Goodnight…”

    Lillith following me out, I walked from the dining room, my mind and body crying for rest.  Today was a satisfying one, but taxing – and it must have showed in how I carried myself.  I hoped that tonight’s encounter with Lord Seraph was a mere fluke – a simple flip from the ordinary.  No doubt we would be back to our normal selves in no time, prepared to wage war on a better day.  For now, however, I couldn’t rally my forces or marshal my defenses…and whatever craving I might have had to dispose of him whichever way I could had ebbed without warning…

    …What in God’s name was my world coming to…?