Chapter 10 #2
He glanced at her. “So that you do not fall on your face on the treacherous road from the stairs to the great hall.”
“Don’t be silly. I can walk on my own.”
He proffered his elbow once more, insisting. She slipped her arm through his and gasped as he jerked her closer to him.
He led her to the great hall and pulled her chair out from the table for her, the legs scraping against the floor. “Another treacherous obstacle.”
Her face grew hot. “Thank you. Ever the gracious host.”
There were only two goblets set out on the table tonight. The grinning Asmodeus was gone, and so was Finnigan. Elizabeth fidgeted in her seat, awkwardly smoothing her skirt on her lap. Something about Caspian made her feel on edge.
The servants swept in and placed trays of food on the table. She helped herself to a plate of roast venison and potatoes.
A servant deposited a fresh goblet of wine in front of Caspian and filled her goblet with water.
“No food again tonight?” she asked curiously.
He drank deeply from his goblet, and smirked.
She picked up her fork and hesitated.
“It’s not rude to eat first,” he said, nodding at the food. “Eat.”
He watched her spear a piece of potato on her fork and place it in her mouth, chewing it delicately. She glanced at Asmodeus’s seat, wondering where he had gone.
Evidently, Caspian noticed. “Asmodeus is learning what happens when he attempts to tamper with my belongings.”
“Am I your belonging?” Displeasure coloured her tone.
“You are mine, and mine alone to toy with while you are here. So yes, during our little agreement, you are my belonging.” His words were firm, as if he expected no argument.
“I see,” she said stiffly, trying to mask her annoyance that a man—if he wasn’t mortal, did that mean she called him a male?—she had just met was calling her his belonging. “Are you always this possessive of your … contract partners?”
He leveled an intense gaze at her. “Always.”
When she finished her meal, Caspian asked the servant for another goblet of wine to retire with by the fire.
She raised her hand tentatively and asked for one as well, intending to join him.
He made an odd expression at the servant that she didn’t understand. The servant bowed, offering her a silver goblet. She accepted it and followed Caspian to the lounge.
He sipped his wine and looked out the window. It was raining, and the view of the mountains was marred by fog and the raindrops that sluiced down the windowpane.
She needed to prove to herself that she could be in the same room as him. Even if there was no prize but her own pride.
Otherwise, she might as well go home and ready her wedding dress if she couldn’t stand to be near him.
She focused on her breathing to get used to the unnerving presence of the castle’s master.
She waited for him to say something, and when he didn’t, she sat in silence until her pounding heart calmed, and her thoughts began to drift.
Suddenly, he asked, “What are you thinking about so intently?”
Elizabeth turned to him and smiled brightly. “I had thought Arboras was covered in snow and ice year-round. It is surprisingly mild outside. I didn’t even need a cloak today.”
Caspian gave her a skeptical look. “Is that really what you were thinking so hard about?”
“Yes,” she insisted, “I don’t have a winter cloak though. I’ll have to get one before winter comes.”
“I see.” Caspian’s eyes found hers, some questions buried in them. “And what will you do with your time while you are here? Perhaps I can be persuaded to show you around the castle.” His words were smooth as velvet.
“One of your servants was kind enough to show me around already, thank you.”
“You do not wish for my company as you explore?” he asked, frowning.
She hesitated, feeling like she had missed something important. “You would be welcomed to join me, of course, if you wanted to. Don’t worry about me though. I will amuse myself just fine. I brought plenty of things to occupy myself with.”
She wondered why he still looked displeased.
“I appreciate the foresight,” Caspian said, his words clipped.
Unsure of what to say, Elizabeth sat tall, smiling.
His gaze slid down her frame. “Perhaps it is time for you to go to bed,” he said softly, his lip curling.
She rose, needing no further encouragement. “Certainly, Caspian,” she said, her voice honey-sweet. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”
As she turned to leave, she saw the way their goblets looked on the table and stopped dead. The contents of his goblet looked different from hers. While her wine was a translucent burgundy, his wine was a lighter shade—the colour more vibrant, the liquid opaque and viscous.
Blood.
“Goodnight, Elizabeth.”
His serpentine smile was the last thing she saw before she fled the room. Somehow, she made it to the stairs with a false smile still plastered on her face.
As she climbed the stairs, her expression fell, and her knees almost buckled. All at once, several pieces of the evening came together. She put a hand against the wall, feeling sick and a little faint. A roaring filled her ears, and she tried not to vomit.
Elizabeth traipsed to her chamber and lay on her beautiful bed, wanting to weep.
Caspian had a goblet of blood every night.
How many mortals had met their end for him to sate his hunger? And if she displeased him, would she be next?
***
An hour later, she was filled with determination not to be caged in her bedroom all night. She snuck out of her chamber, closing the door as quietly as possible.
Elizabeth tiptoed down the hall and slipped into the library, determined to stand her ground in some small way. Even though no one was near, and no one cared, she needed to feel like she could live out her days as she pleased, or she was going to go insane.
Out of the corner of her eye, a wisp of darkness curled around the bookshelves, but when she looked properly, it was gone. She must be imagining things—a trick of the light. She glared at the bookshelves, daring them to try and scare her again. But nothing else out of the ordinary happened.
Elizabeth sat determinedly on a leather armchair by the window and curled up with a book. She turned the pages with vigor and glowered at the shelves from time to time. Over the next hour, she slowly relaxed and forgot what she had been so worried about.
She smiled contentedly and read the night away.
***
Caspian was returning from ensuring that Asmodeus’s punishment was going smoothly—it was—when his eyes caught something interesting in the window that overlooked the library.
The girl.
She had nodded off on the sofa, a book in her lap. Amused, he went to the library and stood over her, smirking. She was indeed fast asleep.
Up close, he could see she really was a beauty, surely the gem of her family.
Beautiful, spoiled, and vapid. Truthfully, he thought of her as fairly uninteresting, and had he not had an ulterior motive concerning her family, he would have dismissed her entirely.
She was so peaceful in her sleep—so pathetically mortal and breakable.
He could snap her neck right now if he wanted to, before she even woke.
How did she nod off in his house of horrors? Didn’t she know Asmodeus was the kindest of the demons that frequented his home?
Pathetic, naive human.
He chuckled and bent over her. She didn’t even stir. He desired to wake her and taunt her, just to show how powerless she was. But not yet. He straightened and retreated out of the library, leaving the girl.
Soon.
Soon, he would make her body sing for him. He would make her beg him to take her. He would watch the highborn daughter worship his body and feel like a champion among men. The lowly peasant he had been so many years ago would finally have his validation.
Yes, the amulet he sought was one thing, but he was perfectly content to let it remain hidden for a few more hundred years.
That objective, the one he had told Asmodeus and Finnigan, had always been secondary to his conquests.
His primary purpose with Elizabeth, as had been his goal with so many women before her, was to steal the jewel of the families who had ruined his life so long ago. The Ashcroft line would die with her.
And she would beg him to ruin her before it was done.
He dipped his chin, and smiled slowly.