Chapter Eleven #2
Thea, unable to trust Bertha completely, also made some suggestions, and the two went back and forth while I stood like a mannequin.
Eventually, they reached some conclusion, and I was released. Josephine worked carefully to remove the garment in place without pricking me on the pins.
“I’m in your debt, my lady,” she murmured, taking some pins from my shoulder. “I’m excited to get to serve you again.”
Old anger rose in me. “There’s no debt.”
She smiled and helped me into my gown. “Whatever my lady says. All the same, I am pleased to get this opportunity to assist you.”
I looked around. Bertha had moved over to Raphael, who was watching me even as the shopkeeper spoke to him about some logistics.
“And you’re… well?” I asked, unsure how to say, Your boss hasn’t come up with some other reason to pull out your fangs?
She nodded, and I hoped I was right to believe her. “You are kind to even think to ask.”
I remembered the way I’d been treated in Greymere.
Gods, what it would have meant to have even one person acknowledge the cruelty that went on there.
It wasn’t the same—Josephine had options, probably, and was at least paid a wage for her work here.
But as quickly as Bertha supplicated herself to those above, I had no doubt she still enjoyed lording her power over those she saw as below her.
I forced myself to turn from that anger. “If anything ever changes, I’m sure Raphael has use for your talents in the castle.”
Maybe it was presumptuous for me to offer with his name, but I couldn’t leave her trapped.
Josephine’s eyes went wide. “My lady, thank you.” She clasped my hands in excitement. I tensed, and she moved to pull away. “Oh, I apologize. One such as I should never have presumed…”
I grabbed her hands back. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
I offered Josephine a slight smile and thanks for her work as I headed over to Raphael. Seeing I was done, the vampire turned from Bertha mid-sentence with barely more than a word, and the three of us departed.
“What did the girl say to you?” Raphael asked once the door shut behind us.
“First, her name is Josephine. And to answer your question, there was an incident last time. Bertha can be… overzealous.”
“Sam’s understating it. The cow wanted to rip out Josephine’s fangs for an accidental prick, and Sam royally put her in her place.” Thea sighed. “It’s a shame, she really does make the best gowns.”
Raphael said nothing, but I felt his stare acutely.
“Anyway, I need to go finish up some other arrangements,” Thea continued. “Sam, is it fine if I leave you here?”
“I’ll get her back safely,” Raphael said, sounding irked.
Thea held my gaze until I nodded. In that moment, more than any other, I felt the depth of our friendship. “It’s fine, Thea. Take care of what you need to.” I might not want to spend any more time than necessary with Raphael, but whether Thea was with us or not wouldn’t affect things.
Thea left and Raphael started moving. The cobblestone streets all looked alike, though with their own unique shops, patrons dipping in and out. The lamps that lit the city were hardly necessary now. My sight was much clearer.
With as little time as I’d spent on the second level, I struggled to orient myself. We took a few steps down an unfamiliar street, and I immediately lost any sense of direction. I let Raphael take the lead and allowed a few paces to spread between us.
It was fascinating to watch Raphael weave through the streets.
He didn’t need to be seen wearing his crown to be known as the king, but aside from a few furtive glances and reverent whispers, no one really cared.
Bertha’s grand demand that all other patrons leave in his presence was the exception rather than the rule.
Raphael paused and looked back, realizing I’d fallen slightly behind.
He shook his head and walked back, rolling his eyes in an overly dramatic way. “Like a child in a crowd.”
“It’s not like I can fall that far behind.” With the bond in place, there could only be five hundred paces between us.
“All the same,” was all he said. He pulled my hand from my side, threading his fingers with my own as he walked on.
I started at the contact. His hand in mine… a first. But he acted as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and started moving forward.
But the small bit of skin-to-skin connection lit something inside me.
His hand swallowed mine, firm and steady, a slight squeeze to get me moving.
It made me realize how easy it was to be cold as a vampire.
My body temperature was lower, though I didn’t feel it acutely.
But the slight warmth of his palm—it was like not realizing you were hungry until you smelled food and suddenly you were ravenous and could think of nothing else.
I wanted to feel annoyed at his presumption. Yet I couldn’t hate it, even though I wanted to.
Raphael led me down several more streets. While at first I thought it was possible I didn’t recognize them, I increasingly suspected we’d never walked this way before. I frowned at the hanging signs outside the stores. Clothing, books, an apothecary?
“This isn’t the way back up,” I eventually declared. To the top level of Damerel, what was equivalent to the king’s castle in Ulryne.
Raphael smirked. “That’s correct.”
I wanted to demand he take me back, but to what end? I didn’t exactly have any grand plans, aside from trying and failing to unlock my magic with the grimoire.
“You’re not taking me to another blood den, are you?” It was as good a guess as any, since there was little else to come down here for that wasn’t in the castle as far as I was concerned.