Chapter 4
Her mind had been a field of jagged thoughts since the moment she was dragged before Ragnar in her father's throne room.
Late that same night as her brother slumbered, a thought came to her unbidden.
Escape.
She could try to leave. Ragnar hadn't locked the door from the outside. It was as though he knew it was pointless to do so. She only understood why when she opened the door a creak and peeped down the hall. Almost immediately her eyes collided with that of a lanky vampire skulking around in the shadows where the light of the sconces didn't quite reach.
He flashed his fangs as he grinned wickedly at her. It was a taunt, a challenge. He would attack her the moment her foot crossed the threshold. It wouldn't matter that she was to wed the prince, he would just claim that he had caught her trying to escape. He might even be rewarded for his efforts.
Circe slammed the door close and locked it before he could take a step closer. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths as she rushed to peer out the window at the other side of the bedroom.
The bedroom was on the second highest level in the palace and the distance from her windowsill, down to the ground was daunting to say the least. The drop down wasn't the only thing that had given her pause. It was also the sight of multiple roaming figures down below. A distant bark confirmed that they were hounds. The palace had hounds that were likely to attack and rip her to shreds on sight.
With a shaky exhale, she stepped away from the window and dropped down on the bed beside her brother. The mattress dipped with her weight but Rowen remained fast asleep.
She realized Ragnar had been right— she was safer here, tucked away in the bedroom than she would ever be on her own outside of it. She had never felt as useless as she did right then.
Circe was trapped. The thought made the backs of her eyes sting yet no tears fell.
The last time Circe cried was when she watched her mother's body laying still on a tall funeral pyre. Circe had clutched her infant brother close to her chest as she and everyone in her family watched flames licking over her mother's skin.
Circe had shed tears then but hadn't done so again since. She suspected a part of her was broken. Watching her mother's beautiful face melt into charred flesh and ash made something important inside her snap away forever.
The sound of someone banging their fist against the bedroom door permeated the air. It was loud and insistent and every second she lingered without answering felt like taking a chisel to her already throbbing skull.
Unlike Rowen who had gotten a few hours of sleep, Circe hadn't slept a wink, still too uneasy about their current predicament. She found herself flinching at every sound she heard throughout the night, unable to distinguish which ones were benign noises and which was an approaching vampire looking to cause them harm.
Rowen was already awake and staring at her with worried eyes as she strode up to the door and unlocked it.
She was barely able to step aside when the door was pushed open wider and a woman she hadn't seen before came storming inside.
" How in the king's name are you two still in bed? Have you no concept of time?" The woman shrieked. Her voice was like nails scraping against a chalkboard with how shrill and grating it was.
" I wasn't under the impression that we were allowed to roam the palace freely." Circe crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to cower at the woman's feet. From the way the woman's eyes darkened, it was clear she had expected to find Circe and Rowen trembling in a corner.
The woman scoffed. " Of course, you're not. But I wished you had tried to last night and been ripped to shreds by the queen's hounds. Maybe then her majesty would cease these nonsense talks of having human filth like yourself marry into the royal family."
The woman's words weren't surprising in the least. Circe was certain a good number of the people present in the throne room yesterday would be against the queen's verdict, especially given the long tenuous relationship between the humans and vampires.
" And who exactly are you to the royal family?" Circe asked. She fought against her first instincts which were to pull her hand back and slap the woman across the face for the insult, but she kept reminding herself that this wasn't Westeria and she was nothing more than a prisoner, helpless. Powerless.
The woman lifted her shoulders unbelievably high. " I have worked for the queen as her chief lady in waiting long before any of the princes were even born. But You will refer to me as Irah Alder."
The woman in question barely looked a day over thirty but it wasn't surprising given the nature of vampires and how slowly they were known to age.
" The queen has requested I collect you at dawn and guide you through your tasks for today." Irah continued, scoffing when Circe raised a questioning brow. " You didn't think you would be allowed to sit around your rooms doing nothing just because it was announced that you would be marrying prince Ragnar."
She said it as though sitting trapped in this bedroom was a luxury instead of the punishment that it was.
" The queen intends to put me to work." It wasn't a question. It was just as Ragnar had said to her.
" Yes and you will be adequately punished everytime you willfully disobey orders. I will make sure of that myself. The boy can stay behind if he wishes but you are to follow behind me." Irah turned to walk out the door, her skirts swishing around her legs.
Once Irah was gone from the room, Circe glanced back at Rowen.
" Lock the door, and don't open it for anyone unless you know it's me."
Circe rushed to meet up with Irah's long strides. She noticed that the Vampire she saw the night before was nowhere to be found and the rest of the hall was empty.
" Do you know how to do any housework?" Irah asked after a long moment of walking together in silence.
" I never had to learn." Circe answered bluntly. They passed by a few people on their way through who either glared or gaped at her.
" I should just have you working in the fields and cleaning the stable floors. Those are the tasks befitting someone of your standing." Irah sneered but despite the threats, Circe saw they were headed further and further away from the main area of the palace where people freely meandered until they stopped in front of close double doors.
She looked at Circe from head to toe, noticing the dirt stained clothes she wore. It was the same dress Circe wore through out her journey to the capital and since their weren't allowed to take any belongings with them, they didn't have any other clothes to change into.
Irah pushed one of the doors open before stepping through and Circe followed suit. On the other side of the doors was a massive library. The biggest Circe had ever seen in her life.
Its high ceilings were embellished with intricate carvings and moulding. Frescoes depicting ancient Lamorian civilization adorned the walls. Tall, arched windows allow natural light to pour in, illuminating the space. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that stretch towards the ceiling, laden with volumes, scrolls and leather bound tomes of every shape and size. Several thick columns divided the huge space into fractions.
" Lokan?" Irah called. " I would like to have a word with you."
The only other person in the room was an austere looking man heading towards where they stood.
" What do you want?" Lokan asked. His voice was as stern as his face.
" I brought you a guest." Irah gestured to Circe. " From today she will be expected to assist you with anything pertaining to this library."
Circe didn't avert her gaze as Lokan appraised her.
" I never asked for an assistant." Lokan said.
" You will be getting one either way. Consider it a gift from the queen." Irah walked out the same way she came, leaving Circe alone with Lokan, a vampire she didn't know and who didn't seem to like her very much.
" Your name?" Lokan asked. He had finished appraising her and didn't seem to have found anything about her he truly liked.
" Circe." But by the time the word was out of her mouth, Lokan was already walking away. She wasn't even certain he had heard her.
***
Somewhere in Kezar, a village in the southern region of Lamora, a man staggered out of a tavern. He had spent most of the night imbibing in spirits and now it was late. He knew his wife would be seething by the time he finally got home.
He stumbled through familiar dirt roads. The tavern wasn't far from where he resided but somehow tonight the distance seemed longer. The roads seem to wind and stretch.
The man paused when he heard a feminine voice coming from not too far away. It was faint but he knew what he heard. Don't leave; the voice seemed to say but when the man looked in the direction it was coming from, he found nothing.
'Don't leave.'
He heard it again. When he moved to leave, he realized he couldn't move any of his limbs. He was frozen to the spot. When he looked down he saw a thick mist spreading around him. It swallowed up his legs, raising higher and higher until it completely obscured his vision.
The voice was closer now.
He tried to scream but no sound left his lips. Something brushed over his cheek in a gentle caress. That was the last thing he felt before everything went dark.