Chapter 39. Old Ghosts.
The strong smell of alcohol erupted in the room I used to call mine. The same dark-blue curtains revealed the sun that had burned my flesh; the same dark blue bedding as the last time I’d stayed here.
I averted my gaze from the bedframe as painful memories invaded my weak mind.
Timothy’s shadow lingered in every corner of the room, yet there was no other room I would rather be in—this had been my only salvation, as he had rarely entered with the guards by my doors. Sometimes he managed to slip in anyway.
Other rooms hadn’t granted me such protection, as Timothy would come up with foolish excuses to disallow my guards access to the rest of the castle. Had I protested—more pain would have fallen onto my shoulders... I’d quickly learned to endure it.
Roxanne locked the door behind her, rushing towards the window to draw the curtains.
“I still think one of us should have stayed with Gabriel, Moon knows what can happen, and he is our only chance at Royal steel.” She threw her cloak on the chair in the corner of the room, revealing her scabbard filled with blades.
“Tamira assigned help and protection to him, and he is right—” I took the woolen blanket out of the drawer when nausea made its way through my stomach: the drawer was filled with my old dresses, cut to shreds.
I forced air into my lungs before laying the blanket on the settee by the now covered window.
“And what if one of his helpers does something to him?” Roxanne frowned when I lay on the settee.
“We have to learn to trust each other, otherwise death will take us one by one.” My eyes closed from fatigue, revealing the fire that took Simon.
“He will be fine.” I shook my head to get rid of the horrid memory.
“At the end of the night, he is human, and most of the guards here fought alongside him in the Crimson War.”
Silence followed as Roxanne’s steps neared to where I lay. “If you say so.” She stood by the settee, willing my gaze to meet hers. “I won’t bite,” she rolled her eyes, pointing at the bedframe. “This bed is big enough for the both of us.”
“I prefer to sleep here.” I swallowed the nausea that rose deep within me as the memories of what had happened on that bed flooded my mind. I turned away, facing the wall.
“It doesn't look comfortable,” Roxanne argued. When I didn’t reply the room fell into silence: the silence that brought Simon’s screams, the silence that brought Francis’ last words.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed. “Please! Please!” I cried.
His hands wrapped around my hair, forcing me atop the bed.
“Please!” I begged, my nails digging into his face, scratching at the sickly pale—covered in cold soil—skin. “I beg of you, don’t do this—”
“The less you resist the easier it will be, Cordelia.” Timothy whispered into my ear as blood—his blood—spilled into my mouth, soaking my throat.
“Please!” I choked on his blood as his hands cut through my dress. The tears streamed down my face, soaking the sheets underneath me—
His hands felt my uncovered skin. My stomach dropped to my heels as nausea fought for its way out—
“No! No! Please don’t touch me!” I cried. “Please!”
“Wake up, Cordelia!” Strong hands shook my shoulders, scaring the nightmare away. “Wake up!” Roxanne’s eyes bored into mine.
I gulped for air as hot tears streamed down my face. “Sorry,” I mumbled, wiping away the evidence of my distress. “Sorry.”
Roxanne walked to the satchel she’d left on the wooden floor before going to bed. “Here.” She offered me a bottle of wine that was filled with a darker shade of crimson. “Take it.”
“I’m fine.” I shook my head, pushing the bottle away from my lips. The divine smell of blood reached my nostrils, sending my mind into a frenzy. “Put it away, please.”
Roxanne’s brows furrowed at my refusal, yet she did as I’d asked. Her piercing gaze would not leave my broken figure when she hid the bewildering drink from view.
I sat on the settee, my hands wrapping around my body to keep it from shattering. “Sorry for waking you so early.”
“The sun is about to come down,” Roxanne said as though that was answer enough. “I should get going: Faris must arrive as soon as possible, given we don’t know the exact day Kane will attack, and Florence must be going mad by now.” Roxanne glanced at my palms, swallowing.
I followed her gaze. The shadows of my nails dug deep into my palms, bleeding crimson. I wiped my hands against the cloth of my dress. “All right.” I filled my lungs with air. The bitter taste of blood still lingered in my mouth.
“Do you wish to come with me?” She asked, putting the satchel over her shoulder.
“I should go and help Gabriel.” I shook my head. “I’m sure Tamira and Arthur will also need help before Faris arrives.”
“All right.” Roxanne walked towards the door. “Stay safe,” she offered over her shoulder before closing the door.
I froze on the settee, my lungs still aching for air, silent tears streamed down my cheeks—
My insides turned upside down as I hurried to the bathing chambers. My jaw locked in place as my stomach squeezed tight—
I choked as my empty stomach pushed the remains of blood out.
My head spun into an oblivion I’d desperately tried to avoid. I had no time for such weakness, I had no time for heartache.
Numb tears clouded my eyes as I forced myself to the sink. The cold water streamed down my face, bringing my mind back into reality. I forced the water down my throat. The tasteless liquid filling up my stomach.
Breath in. Breath out.
I could not afford to break into pieces, not now, when so much was at stake. Not when Francis’ life depended on my well–being.
I washed my face, meeting my own gaze in the mirror. My eyes glowed darker than usual—determined to deliver the promise I’d given so long ago.
The forge was a lot smaller than the one at the palace. The stone walls had darkened with age, the floors covered in dirt. The strong smell of burning coal forced my eyes to water as I made my way through the room.
The forge, that had been filled with laughter and chatter a moment ago, quieted: five pairs of eyes—including Gabriel’s—meet mine. The delightful smell of human flesh invaded my mind, waking the beast, yet I paid it no attention.
“What are you doing here?” Gabriel asked. “I thought you were going to leave with Roxanne.”
“I won’t be of any use there,” I replied, taking another step inside the forge. The men that accompanied Gabriel took a deliberate step back.
“You look horrible,” I studied Gabriel, ignoring his company.
Gabriel laughed, nodding. “You too, Your Highness.”
I rolled my eyes. “How can I help?”
The men in dirty warrior attire looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
“There is not much to do until the moon is out.” Gabriel pointed at all the heated blades that lay inside the chimney. “These swords have been heated with fire spawned from our golden flint. Now we need to quench them in Moon water mixed with a drop of vampire blood.”
“We’ve already set the barrels of water outside to charge.” One of Gabriel's friends cleared his throat, meeting my gaze. His skin was covered in ash and coal, the ends of his blonde hair slightly burned.
“We were just contemplating where to get the vampire blood...” said the other that looked identical to the first: same blonde hair split in the middle, same shaped brown eyes, same high cheek bones. Brothers perhaps, maybe even twins.
“How much blood?” I asked, eyeing the swords: their tips turning bright orange under my gaze.
“A drop, maybe a few, per barrel.” Gabriel shrugged, watching me with curiosity.
“All right then.” I nodded. “Show me your barrels.”
“Are you sure?” He frowned. “We can wait for someone from Faris to arrive.”
I rolled my eyes when pity filled his eyes. “Show me the barrels, Gabriel.”
“All right.” He raised his hands in surrender. “If you insist, follow me.” He walked past the four men who split to allow me entrance. Their every gaze followed me out of the forge’s back door.
Outside, the spring air brought clarity to my still faded mind. Fresh, blooming aroma filled my lungs as I followed Gabriel around the corner of the forge.
A dozen wooden barrels stood side by side along the perimeter of the castle under the Moon’s light. The water shimmered under the stars, reflecting each one of them.
“Here.” Gabriel pointed at the barrels. “You really don’t have to do this, hundreds of vampires are to arrive soon,” he said as I pulled up my sleeve.
Dark blue marks scarred my skin, yet no pain followed with it. The burns had healed slowly, no matter the medicine. Perhaps I was meant to carry this scar as a reminder of my own foolishness forever.
“What happened to your arm?” Gabriel’s brows furrowed as he glared at my old injury.
“Nothing,” I said, walking towards the first barrel.
“I only have Silver blades—” Gabriel trailed off as my teeth pierced my own wrist. “I suppose that works too,” he scoffed.
The blood slipped from my wrist, drop by drop, reaching each barrel as I walked past them. The wicked sensation brought an odd calmness to my heart as the memory of Francis’ teeth atop my flesh snuck through the strong walls I’d built in my mind—I had no time for such distractions.
I shook my head when I reached the furthest barrel. The last drop of blood fell into the water, drawing circles around it.
“You are not hungry, are you?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed when I walked back. He took a shy step back as I reached him, offering me a clean cloth from his pocket.
“I am, actually.” I allowed a small nod, wrapping my wrist in the cloth. Gabriel’s eyes grew wide as he took another step back; his terrified expression almost brought a smile to my face. Almost. “Don’t worry, I don’t fancy humans.” The words left me before I could catch them.
Gabriel let out a shrieked laugh, his eyes searching mine for clarity. “You must be the first vampire in the entire Kingdom who doesn’t fancy humans,” he laughed. “Who do you fancy then, if not humans?”