The Bride of the Immortal

by Auriane Bell

  “Von Kirchberg. Änlin von Kirchberg. Simply call me Änlin if that’s too complicated for you.”

  Änlin elegantly drew back her arm and repeatedly opened and closed her hand as if he had hurt her.

  “What do you want from me, Änlin von Kirchberg?”

  The immortal had decided not to allow her to unnerve him.

  “Let me stay at your castle. I’m sure we can be helpful to each other.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting that I’m here with my bride, Miss von Kirchberg?”

  The woman laughed loudly and without reservation, gaining yet more attention from the people standing closest to them.

  “Nothing of that kind, silly.” Her laughter had changed into a reprimanding smile. “It’s sad though. All men are the same.” Änlin tucked a strand of her golden hair behind her ear and feigned a sigh.

  “Out with it…” Vivian demanded impatiently.

  “I believe we have a mutual friend and I’d like to talk to you about her. Won’t you take me and my daughter in for a while?”

  The possibility that Änlin was talking about Magdala forced Vivian to give in, even though he knew that he was going to regret it.

  “Who could refuse to help a young mother in need?” he replied, showing her his Sunday smile.

  Änlin von Kirchberg and her daughter had returned with them to Mondstein castle. Adrijan wasn’t certain which was more unsettling – the woman’s resemblance to Magdala or the fact that Vivian had allowed two strangers to live with them. Despite his mixed feelings, he had been reasonable enough to try to keep them under surveillance by assigning a servant to them, but Miss von Kirchberg had denied his offer, insisting that she was capable enough to take care of her child and herself.

  Adrijan had been looking for the master of Mondstein castle for the past hour – in vain – and was on his way to where he hoped to finally find Vivian.

  The elevator to the ‘Sanctuary’ squeaked and rattled as it took him to the surface.

  “Viv?”

  His brother was standing right in front of him, gazing at Magdala’s statue, holding a half-full glass in his left hand and a half-empty bottle of whiskey in the other.

  “Let me tell you something, frater,” Vivian paused dramatically to raise the tension. “You are an imbecile.”

  Adrijan frowned. This was rare. “You’re drunk.”

  “Well observed. At least I’ll sober up, but what about you?”

  “I’ll gladly remain an idiot,” he replied mildly annoyed. “Is there more of this uisce beatha you’re having or are you the only one who is allowed to get drunk?”

  Vivian handed him his glass.

  “To women,” he said and took a sip from the bottle.

  “To women,” Adrijan replied and downed his drink.

  “Do you think she’s dangerous, Viv?”

  “They’re all dangerous.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Mhm, she might be,” Vivian put down the empty bottle, picked up another one from the ground and refilled Adrijan’s glass.

  “Thanks.” It was a difficult question to ask but also one that couldn’t wait. “Is there a chance that it’s her?”

  The immortal shook his head and raised the bottle to his lips.

  “Haven’t you had enough?”

  “Let me drown my sorrows,” he complained.

  “You’re rather drowning yourself, than your sorrows.”

  Vivian chuckled.

  “What about you and the girl?” the immortal asked.

  “What about her?”

  “She loves you but agreed to marry me. What did you do to her?”

  Adrijan sighed and emptied the glass, regretting that they could consume spirits almost like water.

  “Let’s see… First I revealed to her that I was your age and then I confessed to her that I had drained the life of her father. I think taking her with me to kill an old woman was just the final straw.”

  “So that’s what tough guys do on their first date, eh?”

  “Very funny, Viv.”

  “Anyway, you should treat her better.”

  “… says the man who has bedded more women than the almighty Zeus.”

  “Well… perhaps you’re right, but that’s part of it. Women want to be desired, of course not exclusively physically – you have to let them see that you crave the overall-package. Anything else just leads to frustration.”

  “Let me take notes,” Adrijan jested.

  “What are you going to do about her?”

  “I don’t know. Should I fight for her? I’m having doubts.”

  “Doubts?”

  “Can I make her happy? I’ve never been with a woman. Not once in seven-hundred years. I’ve never missed it, but now…”

  “Mhm.”

  “I thought she was the one. She is charming, isn’t she? There’s warmth but also mind in everything she does. I thought she could be the one who didn’t want me only because I’m out of reach.”

  “Adrijan, the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden,” Vivian commented, eliciting him another sigh.

  “Is there a point in trying, if she can’t bear to accept what I have to do to survive? She was willing to be with me before I showed to her what it’s like. If we wanted to be together, I would have to gather enough life for her as well. How would I do that, if she were against it?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Who knows… perhaps I’m not even in love with her.”

  “Figuratively speaking you are already planning children but you’re wondering if you’re truly in love,” Vivian interjected.

  “Hearing it from your lips I really do sound like an imbecile. But what can I do? I feel at a loss. Maybe it would have been better for all of us if she were as innocent as Magdala and hadn’t pursued me.”

  “I disagree and I can tell that you don’t know much about Magdala.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

  “It’s alright, brother,” Vivian interrupted him. “She has always been a taboo subject. Let me tell you more about her today.”

  Adrijan was wondering what kind of emotion he had triggered to make Vivian talk about her after such a long time of silence.

  Mairin sat on the bed and moved her toes up and down, trying to relieve her cramped feet from the pain. She had been walking around Traumstadt wearing a new pair of pumps all day and the last steps from the entrance of Mondstein castle to her room had been close to torture. Gazing at the blisters above her heels made her wonder about her own pride that had kept her from taking off her shoes before they had been able to cause this much damage.

  Therry sneaked close and wiggled with his hindquarters, ignoring the fact that there was no tall grass to hide in. When the right moment had come he jumped at her foot, wrapped his paws around it and nibbled at her toe. Mairin smiled about his silliness and picked him up.

  “We made him do it, Therry. It’s not your fault, you know? But I should have known better than to leave him when he asked me to. I could have given you my life. I would have done it, gladly.”

  Her eyes welled up with tears but once an avalanche of thoughts had been set off it couldn’t be stopped so easily.

  “He could have died because I wasn’t there. He has always been good to us and trusted me but I continuously wronged him.”

  Therry was irritated by Mairin’s sobbing and rubbed his head against her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, unable to stop.

  Mairin wished she could change the way she had reacted after Mrs Crouse’s death. Even though there had been enough time to think about it, she still didn’t know how she should have responded to the incident.

  “What I did was wrong. At first I was mesmerised by how beautifully life exchanged from her into Adrijan. I remember it clearly, the blue pixie dust… Then death set in and I was forced to realise that I wasn’t simply watching a natural phenomenon but someone’s demise.”

  The kitten innocently looked at her. He
clearly wasn’t a conversationalist but the best listener available.

  “I became aware how wrong it was to be fascinated and was appalled at my own feelings.”

  Mairin wondered if Therry understood a thing she was saying. If he had been there he would have probably tried to catch the glowing dust instead of watched in awe.

  “I witnessed what Adrijan had done to stay alive for so many years but to make matters worse, I had driven him into doing it early.”

  The tomcat sniffed at her tears and Mairin gently nudged him away.

  “We are a good match, you and I. We are both silly, but you are at least cute and can be forgiven.”

  Therry meowed as if he were trying to approve of what she had said.

  “I’ve decided to see this through until the end. Perhaps I can sustain Adrijan’s life too so that he won’t have to… help anyone to pass away for a while. Will you support me, Winther?”

  Mairin slipped under the blanket and was glad when the kitten joined her soon after.

  Vivian took a sip of whiskey before continuing. He felt that he owed Adrijan to tell him the truth about Magdala. Perhaps he should have done so earlier, but he had always lacked the strength.

  “Did you know that Magdala was already a widow when I married her?”

  “A widow? But wasn’t she still young when… Ah, a young girl fed to an old man, was it?”

  Adrijan’s voice made clear that the idea alone was repulsive to him.

  “You don’t consider yourself the very same regarding Mairin, do you?”

  He surely thought his brother capable of having such a thought.

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t. Firstly, you don’t look it and secondly, you’re not a lecher.”

  Adrijan shrugged.

  “Well, perhaps you sometimes do behave like an old man regarding her…” Vivian observed, earning a warning glance. “… more often though, you behave like a teenage boy,” he added, disregarding it.

  “We were talking about Magdala,” Adrijan reminded him peevishly.

  “Very well.”

  Vivian took the hint.

  “Hmmm. Shortly after my father had died, she was offered to me by her mother in law. Magdala’s mourning period had just passed and the crone was in a hurry to put her to good use.

  As prince of Mondstein castle I had always been surrounded by women but unlike the man who had spawned me, I neither forced myself on anyone, nor did I feel the need to father a horde of bastards.”

  The moment he had said it, Vivian realised that his choice of words hadn’t been very considerate towards his half-brother. He awkwardly paused, expecting some kind of reaction from Adrijan but he just looked at him without as much as batting an eye. Vivian cleared his throat.

  “Growing up in Mondstein castle I had witnessed the results of a political marriage of convenience and didn’t want the same for me. Therefore I had decided not to agree to the marriage, unless I at least liked the girl.”

  “Which you did,” Adrijan commented.

  Vivian nodded. “I was invited under the pretext of taking a look at the mansion and the land surrounding it. Magdala had inherited it from her late husband but with what he had left her, she was hardly able to sustain it. Quite frankly I don’t think she had anything to do with its administration at all.”

  Vivian took a few steps away from the statue and sat down on the ground, grateful for the comfort a heated floor had to offer.

  “Is it still in your possession?” Adrijan asked, hunkering down beside him.

  Vivian remembered the day when Magdala had revealed everything to him. In a fit of rage he had sent her mother in law away and dismissed all her servants. After the mansion had been cleared he had ordered to raze it to the ground.

  “Yes. I spontaneously decided to turn it into wood land,” he paraphrased the incident.

  Adrijan raised his eyebrows.

  “Anyway, I fell in love with Magdala the moment I set my eyes on her. Her mother in law unnecessarily had done her best to make her look ‘pretty’ – and by ‘pretty’ I mean the way patisserie is served in a renowned five-star hotel: if you are able to imagine it without décor you realise that you are indeed looking at food.

  To me Magdala was the embodiment of beauty. I only saw what lay underneath the distracting pomp. Her petite figure, the long straight hair, the flawless skin like porcelain, her faintly glowing cheeks and those eyes that were as blue as the summer sky…”

  As Vivian described his first bride it felt like she was standing before him instead of the horribly lifeless statue.

  “The mere sight of her would have been enough to turn a rational man into a poet.

  From that day on I loved her, unaware that she feared the connection to me more than anything, even more than staying with her abusive mother in law.”

  “Yet she agreed to marry you.”

  “Mhm. As beautiful as she was, there was something she lacked. There was no will to fight, no spirit, no resistance. She seemed like a doll, an astonishingly pretty one.

  To my own shame I have to admit that I didn’t realise it then. I thought she was shy, perhaps still suffering from the loss of her late husband. I didn’t suspect at all that I was torturing her by accepting her as my bride. On the contrary, I was convinced that I could rid her of all her worries and anxieties.”

  “So you didn’t even attempt to get to know her better before getting married?”

  “No. No, I wanted her, no matter what. If that had been asked of me I would’ve handed my kingdom to the crone in exchange for Magdala. I was such a naïve fool.”

  Adrijan apparently refrained from commenting and awkwardly emptied his glass.

  “A grand wedding followed – one that had it all. To make it possible I had agreed on hiding the fact that Magdala had been married before. Despite the secrecy everything seemed so perfect to me. With Magdala by my side, I felt like a different man.”

  Vivian had never forgiven himself for his ignorance. No matter how young and inexperienced he had been, he had always despised himself for not noticing her fears earlier.

  “Not once during the ceremony did she smile. No present that was offered to her, regardless of its value, elicited her more than a polite gesture or a nod. The splendid festivities passed and she, who was celebrated, hardly took notice of them. Still, I continued to misinterpret her feelings and believed her behaviour was only natural. Wasn’t it understandable to be nervous? Wasn’t I excited as well?”

  Adrijan put a hand on Vivian’s shoulder. “Don’t torture yourself, brother,” he said sternly.

  “But I must…” he replied.

  Adrijan got up to fetch another bottle of spirits and after he had filled his own glass to its brink he handed the rest to Vivian. Although the end of Magdala’s story was already set in stone, he could see that his brother was experiencing the past as if it were something that was still happening to him. Silently he returned to Vivian’s side.

  “To me it seemed like the shortest and the longest day at once. Short, because she was with me and therefore no duration of time could have been sufficient, and long, because I wanted to be alone with her as soon as possible, yet there were so many heartbeats to endure until I would be able to. How different it must have been for her, the whole day being a gruesome preparation for her nightmare.

  Eventually the moment had come when we were expected to retreat to my chambers. I had never felt this kind of excitement, this kind of anticipation. She sat there in the faint candle light, evanescent in comparison to the monstrous bed, watching me undress. On my request she rose from the mattress, obediently loosened the lacing of her nightgown and let it slide to the ground. I remember that she remained standing where she was, with the cloth around her ankles.

  As I went to her side I noticed her shivering yet I wanted to let my eyes linger on her a little while longer. I was set on taking my time, on taking her in bit by bit, on extracting the whole sweetness of the moment – a moment as
precious as it is unrepeatable.

  I unknowingly tortured her, Adrijan.

  I undid her hair, gently and slowly and still she wouldn’t move at all. I let the gold flow over her body, and allowed the long, silken strands to freely travel down over her shoulders, breasts and hips.”

  Adrijan took a deep breath, hoping his brother wouldn’t go into detail much further. Was this really necessary?

  “Adrijan, I swear Aphrodite herself would have gone green with envy at her sight.

  With the last bit of self-control I managed to refrain from taking her then and there, and seeing that she was shaking and knowing about my own desire, I wrapped her into a blanket and carried her to bed as cautiously as if she were a baby bird.

  I lay down beside her, held her, without removing the protection I believed the blanket offered to her. I caressed her hair and tried to warm her but she wouldn’t stop trembling.”

  “Didn’t you ask her about her feelings, about what was wrong?”

  In Adrijan’s opinion the whole custom of a wedding night in the manner Vivian had described it was wrong. Would Mairin make the same experience and undergo the same fears? Why would anyone want to force such a thing to happen?

  “Talking to her only seemed to worsen the state she was in. No matter what I did, she wouldn’t relax. No matter what I said, she wouldn’t reply. Eventually I stopped torturing her. I decided not to make her my wife that night and only held her in my arms until we both fell asleep.”

  “You made the right decision then,” Adrijan noted.

  “Luckily. But what I did, wasn’t enough. I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.”

  “Hm, hm.”

  Adrijan agreed but didn’t want to make matters worse by telling his brother.

  “How did you manage to get closer to her then?”

  “By not forcing her into doing something she obviously didn’t want I slowly gained her trust. Night after night I repeated the same procedure, just holding her until she would fall asleep and during the day I tried to spend as much time with her as possible. In the beginning our conversations were limited to a monologue on my part, but as the days went by she slowly started talking to me. I can’t tell you what kind of happiness resulted from every success, however small it was.