by L. C. Son
While our situations are different, like Sebastian, I see our similarities. Even more—I see her. Here she is a woman who wants nothing more in life than to be free to live life as she wills and not at the whim of primitive men who fancy their skin superior. The depravity of it all sickens my core.
“They will not win, Greta!” I announce rising from my seat. “The very men who wish our demise will one day beg for mercy before our eyes. That I promise you!” While the cadence and intonation of my words mirrors that of the Changelings in my hearing, I mean every word.
In this, the Changelings and I agree.
Greta stares back at me as a frown dances between her brow and her eyes now search my face. I can only hope I didn’t spook her too much.
“I’m sorry, Greta,” I say in my more subdued tone.
Once more, she nervously pats her apron as she walks back to the stove and pulls another tray of biscuits from the oven. Looking over her shoulder curiously, she watches as I stuff a piece of ham into my mouth. I force myself to swallow it even though the thought of human food does little to appease me as of late.
Looking around the kitchen, I can’t help wondering what Greta does with all the food she cooks. I’m certainly not eating the lot of it.
“It’s quite all right, ma’am,” Greta replies, interrupting my thoughts as my eyes trail the troughs of food and supplies in the corner of the kitchen. Blocking my view, she smiles wide and continues. “I suppose we both got carried away with our fears. That’s just how it works. Fear is a powerful weapon. More powerful than a whip or a sword. It is the fear of what can happen that makes us a slave to the word itself. Sometimes the worst has yet to come nigh, but the fear of the worst can hold a person captive for a lifetime. That is why you and I have to try to enjoy our moments of happiness. Sure, we may not know what tomorrow will bring, but we must hold to that which is good, ma’am. And we must hold on it with everything we’ve got!”
“With everything we’ve got,” I repeat back. Greta nods in agreement and we both smile. She’s right, I needn’t give myself to fear. I guess when Dalcour stressed I should enjoy myself, he knew just how much of a challenge that would be.
“Oh I forgot to mention, Lord Titan popped in late last night to check on you. I told him you were—um—busy, so he said that he’d come back later today. I think he said he’d be here around three.”
“Okay, Greta. Thanks for letting me know.” I quietly reply. I haven’t thought much about Titan since I’d last seen him.
“Yes, he said Dalcour left instructions for him to check on you,” she says while grabbing a broom and begins sweeping the floor.
Crap! I forgot all about the letters Dalcour left for me. I’ve been so wrapped up in all things Sebastian St. John, not much else comes to mind.
As a matter of fact, until just a few moments ago, I haven’t thought much about the Changelings either. It is as if being around Sebastian pushes all thoughts of the Changelings and their dark power away.
I suppose that is why I enjoy being around Sebastian.
Well, that’s not the only reason.
Since our first night I have made love to Sebastian St. John every day for the last eight days. Often multiple times in one day.
We can’t get enough of each other.
Had he not been called to urgent business by Oliver earlier, I have no question my morning would begin as it has over these marvelous eight days. Usually, Sebastian awakes me with a light spooning to my rear as he cradles me in his arms. Slowly making his way on top of me, he grinds us to our release only to lead us to the bathroom to freshen up and start all over again.
Lately, he’s taken to having me on top at nighttime as though it were his very own lullaby. He says he enjoys the sight of me “having my way.” Whatever his pleasure, I enjoy providing the gratification he needs.
Instead of being on top to control a tipper, it is a different feeling doing so because the mere sight of me delights someone I care for with all my heart.
Yes, my heart.
I’ve never led with it before but with Sebastian it’s just natural. Just like breathing.
I am thankful neither Greta, Austin, nor Oliver have said anything untoward about us spending so much time together. In fact it’s as though everyone is happy for us. Oliver seems pleased Sebastian has someone in his life. Meanwhile, Greta and Austin appear more into one another than they think I notice. Both have been dutiful since my first day and it makes my heart happy to know they may be a comfort to each other.
Making my way back upstairs I wash up and get dressed. Looking at the clock I notice it’s almost one o’clock. Sebastian left early and since we didn’t get to our normal activities, I took the opportunity to rest. I slept in as long as I could; that is, until Greta rang the bell at my door, willing me to awake.
Pulling the satchel out of my armoire, I see the second letter and begin reading.
Dearest Chartreuse,
By now you have made yourself of some reputation in town. No doubt your beauty, charm, and manner have taken many of the faction leaders to heart. Although I know some of their curt and cutthroat ways can be vexing, I trust you have found someone there to whom you can relate. At least a little.
I know there are still a great many things I have to share with you and promise to do so upon my return. Until then, I’ve arranged for Lord Titan to educate you on some crucial details in your soon-to-be new world. Hopefully, it will help you manage your expectations for your own transition. Think of it as the privilege of being my ward and sireling.
Know this, the privilege you will now carry extends far beyond your understanding. There will be those who seek to manipulate your privilege for their benefit, but you must best them. As I told you before, I did not choose you to obligate you, rather I chose you because for a purpose even greater than even I understand, you were meant for this.
Moreover, if I can play a small part in the becoming of your greatness, then perhaps, beyond an indelible mark on the world, I can yet find redemption. And even if my own salvation is unattainable, the thought of your happiness is more than any redemptive measure I could hope to find.
Until I return,
Dalcour
One last thing—ignore Lord Titan’s broody manner; I think he fancies you.
Folding the letter into my chest, I smile. Not because Dalcour thinks Titan likes me—of which I’m sure he’s wrong; but because I’m happy. Knowing that Dalcour only desires my happiness warms my heart with a joy I have never known until now. Even more so because I’ve found such a happiness with Sebastian.
When I left the saloon, I only thought of my sister’s deliverance. Once her liberation was assured, I only sought to ensure no further threats would ever ensnare us again. But in this moment, I refuse to allow fear to grip me in bondage. I will not allow it to hold sway over me.
Instead, I choose to live freely.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“So what questions do you have for me?” Titan says, leaning against the bookcase in the parlor.
Staring at him, I am surprised he’s not as broody as Dalcour suggested. He seems more relaxed than when I first met him. I’m not sure if it’s the doting wandering of his eyes every time Greta walks by or if he’s just in a good mood, I am thankful to be privy to his more easygoing side.
“Well, I don’t know if I have many questions, my lord, but perhaps you can share what you think I should know most. Like what is a Bulwark? And why is this grand ball tomorrow such a big deal?” I ask.
Titan’s brows raise and a curious frown frames the corners of his mouth as he glares at me. “That’s what you want to know? You don’t want to know anything about becoming a vampire, how to control your thirst, or how not to get yourself killed in daylight?”
“Oh, well—um—”
“It’s quite all right, my lady. I’ll bite,” he says with his hands raised in surrender. Walking from the bookcase he places his
hands behind the oversized leather wingback chair opposite me and sighs. “Well firstly, I’ll start with the easy part—the grand event. This ball is important because in order for civility to truly take root, all factions—supernaturals, humans, or otherwise must agree to come together and live peaceably in this world. Long ago, Lord Marchand did these functions separately. Vampires had their own as did wolves. But he believes showing a unified front helps ease human trepidation. The ball tomorrow will be the largest and first of its kind. So yes, it is a big deal, my lady. Bigger than you know.”
Titan keeps his eyes locked on me, searching my face for understanding so I force a smile, thinking on Sebastian’s annoyance with the idea of supernaturals posturing themselves for humans. “I suppose I can understand,” I reply.
“Hmm…interesting,” Titan adds, lifting his brow once more as he circles the chair and takes a seat.
“What is, my lord?”
“You.” His tone is flat as he folds his long leg over his knee and leans back in the chair. “I can’t read you. Why is that?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean, my lord,” I nervously mutter.
“I don’t have to read your mind to know you’re lying. As a matter of fact, I think you know quite more than you’re letting on. Lord Marchand asked me to come educate you, but you already have answers of your own. Don’t you?”
“My lord Titan, I assure you I don’t know what you mean.” I lie, but keep a dutiful smile plastered to my face.
“Fine. Keep your secrets,” he grumbles, clasping his hands together as his eyes flash with a fiery glow. “Perhaps it’s nothing more than a result of your sire bond. I’m sure Lord Marchand would rather keep your musings left to him alone. But when he returns you best hope he can read you, my lady,” he adds with an eerie tone, leaning toward me. “I doubt he’d have much use for you if he somehow managed to clip your marionette cord.”
“I’m no one’s puppet, my lord,” I snap back.
“Indeed,” he replies quickly with a sly smile. Laughing, he settles back in the chair and rubs his hands together. “I was waiting for the fiery woman I met weeks ago to appear. I was beginning to think the younger St. John had somehow squelched your fire. It’s good to see the flame yet burns.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow, my lord.”
“No need to be coy, my dear. I am well aware of what you and that young Altrinion were up to when I came to see you last night. As a matter fact, word has spread in the Quarter about some lovely young maiden who has the very eligible bachelor’s nose wide open.”
Looking away, I grab the cup of tea Greta prepared and take a sip, hopeful to evade Titan’s grimacing glare.
“But please know, you need not fear I’d divulge such delicate matters to your sire. Besides, I’m certain it is not quite the news he’d hoped to hear upon his return.”
Titan’s mouth twists into a wicked grin as he sits awaiting my response. Although I’d rather not dignify him with a reply, I suck down my pride. “Why would the thought of me and Sebastian bring my sire displeasure?” I ask.
“Ah, so it’s Sebastian, is it?” he sneers with a shrieking laugh. “Well, I’m sure this will certainly put a dent in Dalcour’s pursuits of aligning you with Decaux.”
“Oh for mercy, Lord Titan!” I exclaim. I’ve grown quite tired of his flippant posturing. “Lord Marchand isn’t trying to pair me with Decaux anymore than you have a chance at trading more than mere glances with Greta! Yes, I’ve seen the way you look at her. But I can promise you, she has a far better suitor!”
Although I spit my words like venom, Titan refuses to be mocked by the likes of me and with his Altrinion speed is now leaning over me. With his hands grasping the arms of my chair he snarls as his crimson eyes flash once more and his fangs protrude.
A twinge of fear settles in the back of my throat, but I press myself firmly in my seat and keep my eyes locked with his. I will not back down before him or any man.
“I don’t know if it’s pure gumption that holds your state or fool heartedness but know this. Whatever glance I share with the Lady Greta is not one born of lust. Now, understanding the makings of your past I can see how you’d mistake pure admiration for such carnality. But let me assure you, when I see her—a human—who with both moxie and sheer steadfastness, refuses to use her freedom for merely her own gain, but day after day makes it her mission to guide slaves to freedom in what should be her own free time, I can do nothing but admire her. She doesn’t require the power of supernaturality to do powerful things and in that alone I find her worth more than a fleeting glance.”
As he speaks, the weight of his words clings to me. Remembering my discussion with Greta earlier, I now have a whole new appreciation for her. At least now I understand where all the food she cooks goes. Unfortunately for me we are not alike as much as I’d hoped. She is certainly far better.
While everything in me wishes to break my stance against Titan, I refuse. No matter how moving Greta’s story may be, I must hold fast to the makings of my own life story. And that story includes Sebastian.
Snarling once more, Titan glowers at me and is seemingly surprised by my unwillingness to relent. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, standing upright and back from me with his hands now stuffed in his pockets.
“You are quite an intrigue, my lady,” Titan says in a more subdued tone as he walks to the threshold of the parlor. Turning back to me, his face softens but his brows still tighten with concern. “I needn’t care what dark alliances you’ve made to make sanctuary the hidden things of your mind, save the incessant melody strumming an endless ominous cord. Even still, I’ll tell you this—no I’ll warn you. Whatever dealings you have brokered with the young St. John must come to an end. And soon. My reaction of the matter pales in comparison to the havoc your sire will ensue at learning such things.”
While there is no love lost between Titan and me, I know his sentiment is sincere. Everything in me wishes to understand the true cause for his worry, but something tells me he wouldn’t tell me if I asked.
Still, I cannot help my curiosity. “Lord Titan,” I call as he turns to exit. Only turning at his waist, he looks over his shoulder and grants a small nod. “Is there something I should know about Sebastian? A real reason for concern?”
“Oh my lady there are plenty of reasons for concern but none that are my place to share,” Titan softly replies with a kind smile that reaches his eyes. “But maybe the next time we meet we can discuss the redeemed remnant of the fallen fae, Bulwarks. Or perhaps then you’ll be free to share with me what dark secrets you have locked in the far corners of your pretty little mind. Until then, I bid you farewell, that is, until we meet tomorrow. Oh, I almost forgot, be sure to be on your best behavior and dress yourself in whatever fine fabrics at your disposal. Your sire will arrive at the ball and I am certain he wants to see you arrayed in nothing but the best.”
Turning quickly on his heel, Titan is out of my view in an instant. As he makes his way through the hallway, he exchanges a few pleasantries with Greta just before I hear his hard feet pounce the narrow wooden steps leading to the cellar.
My heart races as I think on Titan’s warning. I don’t know why Dalcour would object to me and Sebastian. Unless Titan is right. Has Dalcour truly relented of trying to pair me with Decaux? Even though I wouldn’t have initially objected, the thought is somewhat repulsing. Not only was my sister Calida Decaux’s one and only true love, but thought of being with me seemed more amusing than entreating.
Such is not the case with Sebastian.
With Sebastian I feel wanted, desired and adored.
Surely if it is Dalcour’s intent that I enjoy this new life, he will be happy in knowing it is in Sebastian that I find such pleasure. Not Decaux.
While I am both surprised and nervous to hear Dalcour plans to return at the ball tomorrow, I will yet heed Titan’s advice that Dalcour find me at my best. Since Sebastian and I alrea
dy put all the baskets together in preparation of the ball, there is not much left for me to do other than prepare myself.
Not only do I need to be at my best for both Dalcour and Sebastian, I know it is Dalcour’s intent to present me as his sireling to the supernatural community.
Quickly I ask Greta to inform Austin to take me to me the best dressmaker in hopes I can find something presentable in a short time.
As per all things Austin, he wastes no time bringing the carriage to the front of the mansion. Before long we pull up to the most quaint and adorable shop just a few doors down from the bakery with the delicious croissants.
A small bell chimes as I open the door and the savory scent of cinnamon and wild berries hits my nose like a wrecking ball as I enter. While I don’t immediately see anyone, my eyes are instantly overwhelmed at the sight of the lovely array of gowns adorned throughout the shop.
Most eye catching is an emerald gown with gold ribbing. It looks like something made in France or worn by those of an esteemed elite class. If it were not for the money Dalcour left me, a gown such as this would be far from my reach.
Just one more reason to be thankful for my lot.
“I think the color would suit your hair and complexion perfectly,” a gentle, elderly voice calls to me from behind.
Turning around, I am surprised to find Elias Peyroux smiling back at me. “Thank you,” I nervously reply as I recall how the girl from the bakery mentioned his fine dressmaking skills. Searching, his large light brown eyes and kind face, I wonder if he remembers me from the bakery, but I look away and back at the gown.
