Chapter 31 #2
These nuances brought me some stress, but Es and the Parcaetes loved the challenge.
Every discovery or failed hypothesis sent them into hours-long sessions where I’d have to check and make sure she was eating.
Es had mentioned her father was a chemist and healer of sorts; she clearly possessed his curiosity, even if she wasn’t exactly gifted in experimentation the way Tyber, Atticus, and Cade were.
They graciously taught her, explaining their methods and allowing her to partake in ways that would not be detrimental to her health or safety.
I made this requirement explicitly clear on more than one occasion with Tyber, who was becoming increasingly irritated with my reminders.
One night we lay in bed—something I spent much more time doing, now that she expected my presence—when Esiree seemed especially fixated on a rather grim topic.
“Why do these questions plague you? Now is the time for sleep; quiet your thoughts, my darling.”
“Please, just one more,” she begged. I was powerless against her requests; she could have asked a hundred more, and I would have entertained them all.
“What do you do,” she began, softly, “when you realize your wife is aging? When you realize she is dying?”
“Es, you have so many years ahead of you—”
“Tell me,” she pressed.
“I try to find a way to slow my steps,” I said. “I make an effort to find her in her own time. To make her rhythms my own.”
“You mean find me in my own time?”
“I do not want to discuss this, Es. Let me enjoy these years without haunting our nights with the inevitable.”
“But I’m the one it shall happen to, not you!” Her tone took an angry edge.
“And I am the one who must witness it,” I argued, the words escaping before I could submerge the surfacing grief. “Every. Single. Time.”
Esiree could hear the tremor of sadness in my voice and quickly turned the conversation.
“Well, I would prefer you did not take another wife. I think it best if you conclude the treaty with me.”
“Ha! You’re the first to make such a request. I shall have to take it under review with the Privy Council. That’s a long time to be alone,” I said, half joking as I twirled a strand of her hair around my finger.
“You’ll survive,” she remarked dryly.
“I imagine I would suffer a loneliness from which I would never recover, bride or no bride.”
Silence descended between us as it so often did when we danced between the words that neither of us had the courage to speak.
Her morose talk of death had the phrase itching at my tongue more than ever.
Yet, a fearful part of me still believed that happiness, lust, and companionship could all exist without love; and perhaps that was all this was for her.
Merely making the best of an unusual circumstance.
Many nights, Esiree let me take her as a mere mortal might, but on others, her appetite could only be satiated by the curses I bore as Vampyr.
If wielded correctly, they proved to be unusual gifts of the flesh; I indulged her whenever her spirit was so inclined.
She knew these encounters would leave her exhausted…
And not the kind of weariness one coyly displays before demanding another round.
No, these were the type of exertions that left her breathless, sore the following day, and questioning if she should ever dare to skirt the edge of such carnal oblivion.
It was a realm of higher highs and vastly lower lows.
Vampyr could perform such acts for hours and days on end, our endurance and healing far surpassing that of any human.
Esiree had reached for a flame that threatened to consume her, seeking a taste of a world that was designed, by its very nature, to devour her in return.
About a week before our scheduled departure for Leto, Esiree asked if we might stay longer to grant her more time with her family.
Candidly, and selfishly, I disliked the thought of her remaining in the human territories a moment longer than the census required.
Traditionally, we departed the moment our efforts concluded.
It was a strange irony that I felt safer with her in the Heart; though surrounded by Vampyr, they were at least under my rule, bound by civility and the strictness of our laws.
Also, the Forlorn could not swim, and thus posed no threat to the Heart.
It was the only place I truly considered secure.
But then she offered that pouting, doe-eyed plea that I found impossible to resist. My resolve, usually a fortress, crumbled before her.
“Fine! But only a few more days. If word reaches the other territories that we have extended our stay, they will think I am showing favoritism.”
“We are showing favoritism,” she countered. “Leto is my home; surely they expect the connection.”
“It would be unwise for your people to think you favor one province over the rest, even your own,” I warned, hoping she would see reason.
This was not a simple family visit; it was official Crown business that merely happened to take place where she once resided.
“Es… you must not be overly generous with concessions, either. Such things breed a brand of gossip best avoided.”
Esiree rolled her eyes, though I know she had heard me and would heed the warning. She delighted in this performance of indignation, knowing she could hold it over my head as a bargaining chip.
Later, behind closed doors.
I’d become truly enthralled by her, and I reminded myself that I had knowingly chosen this path. She had never hidden this spirited side from me, not since the hour of our very first introduction.
Es loved to push boundaries, testing how much her wicked tongue could earn her.
And I, for my part, embraced it. I had grown loathsome of the way others tiptoed around me, terrified by my position.
Mina was perhaps the only other soul who showed me no such deference, and it seemed I had a weakness for those who refused to submit to my presence.