Cursed Blood

Seth stares at me with his burning gaze while his lips linger on my hand and he smiles. He kisses it again, making a show, and all my demeanor is lost when his gaze never leaves mine. It’s a staring match and I refused to lose, so I stared back.

We were making a scene, or maybe it was only I that was imagining it all.

The lords and ladies of the estate all twittered like robins around us and now my entrance isn’t as grand as I imagined it to be. I am in a filthy coat, my shoes are worn, as is my dress, and my hair is a bird’s nest.

I want to sink into the muddy ground and become one with the worms when my future mother-in-law arrives at the outer gates. She needs no introduction because everyone stops twittering when she arrives. 

Seth draws me closer to his side when she leers down at me and I’m afraid of her and her terrifying beauty. I can see where Seth acquired his looks from. She has a sharp nose and the same, strange, intense orange eyes as him. Her hair is long, curly, and brown, and she’s sporting a black sweater dress and ankle boots.

I’m overwhelmed because Seth smells good, his cologne is so wonderful, but I can feel the murderous gaze of his mother on me.

“Amazing,” she said quietly.

“What’s amazing,” I asked.

“That you’re alive. We all assumed you were dead because of your family’s...curse...”

“If I am cursed then why allow your son to have me,” I mumbled.

A gasp comes from the crowd.

I rolled my eyes, it was not that serious, but Seth’s mother does not take the slight kindly.

She walks around the two of us, slowly, in a circle, inspecting me, her purchased goods, and informs me that she is a lady of her word.

“A promise is a promise. You were beholden at birth, and it is time to make due. It is what your parents if they were still alive, would want.”

Now I look like an ungrateful twit because she has kept her promise, and I am rejecting it.

Seth’s mother starts telling everyone off, to go about their business, and the lords and ladies scatter out to buy their coats and bobbles and drink red honey under moonlight. While this is happening I realized I’m still clinging to Seth because he’s grinning, amused by the faces I was making, and let go.

“This means nothing.”

“Yes, I am aware that you are strong enough to handle yourself,” he said with a grin.

“I am! So glad that you understand,” I replied.

“Since you are so capable I am sure that you do not need to be told your chambers are on the third floor in the main building on the eastern wing, with a room for your follower near it as well.”

Dante, standing a few feet away, reveling in the sordid lives of the rich and bored, with too much free time on their hands, started to chuckle and smacked his arm.

“I never needed to be told such a thing at all,” I mumbled.

“Forgive my intrusion,” Seth snickered. “You don’t need to be shown the way either, I presume.”

I am now stuck, and Dante knows it. He is now laughing brazenly, I am burning hot inside this coat, inside my own skin, and I open my mouth.

“I know the way,” I rasped.

“You know the way around my sprawling estate which you’ve never seen,” Seth clarified.

I am too proud.

I say yes.

I will not lose to the enemy, who tried to kill me, and then welcomed me into his home...and then strangely kissed my hand and tried to show me around afterward. I won’t fall for his handsome face and nice cologne and interesting eyes!

I won’t be tricked.

I won’t be tricked and it takes me an hour to find my chambers.

My chambers are nicer than the ones at my aunt’s estate and I have another reason to make this entire land mine. 

My chambers are several rooms together while when I was with my aunt I only had one. The bedroom has a canopy bed, held up with large, beautiful carved wood, and the drapes are heavy, perfect to block out the sun during the day.

The ornate rugs grace the beautiful, dark wooden floors, and there’s a balcony, perfect to sit out on when the winds aren’t too harsh. 

The bathroom however is troublesome.

A painting of some dead nobleman overlooks the bathtub, and I make a mental note to get rid of it. Why would someone want a picture of a man watching them bathe?

But first I need to know how to make my way around the entire grounds, and the third floor...and my room. I get lost trying to find my way back to the bedroom after showering, irrationally nervous that the mustached man on the painting will steal my maidenhood, and I finally return to see that someone has left a gift.

On the painted white nightstand, in a small mason jar, is a gift left just for me.

Red honey, filled to the brim, and the lid is tied with a patterned bow. My name is painted onto it, in black, and there’s a note next to it.

With one hand I try to keep my wet hair out of the way while I read the note.

Honey for my honey.

I turned as red as the contents in the jar, threw the note to the ground, and grabbed it. He won’t know if I drink it, I can drink it and say nothing. Nothing! 

It meant nothing when I opened my mouth, slid the red sugar down my throat, and took it all in.

It was no Eau de Ray, but it would have to do. 

“It’s the thought that counts,” I mumbled.

I’m still hungry and I absentmindedly lick the rim of the mason jar when a knock comes at the door. I shriek, drop the jar to the floor, it shatters and screams along with me.

“Are you okay,” comes a man’s voice from the door.

“I am, don’t scare me like that,” I shout. 

I carefully walk through the maze of glass, but it's difficult. Very difficult. With every step, I wobble, and teeter, side to side, because the wooden floors are angry with me.

The carpet doesn’t want to be my friend, and I fell to the floor, getting glass into my arm, and I cried out.

Everything goes dark and I know why it was some bad sugar. 

It was spiked.

No wonder Seth was in such a rush to get me to my room.