Power

There are few moments in my life where I have felt genuine fear. The night Mama died was the first of these. Watching her go overwhelmed me with the loneliness and terror of facing a world without her in it. A few nights over the course of Papa's illness scared me almost as much. He was all I had left in the world, and the fact that he too could be taken from me scared me out of my wits. Losing those I cared for was far worse than losing my own life.

So when Aro finally presents the answer to the mystery I've desperately tried to dig up, I feel no fear. Papa is not the one here; he is safe at home. Even if I knew ahead of time what these creatures are, my prerogative would still be to come in Papa's stead. If I never see him again, so be it. As long as he is safe, I am happy.

But this Aro, he does not incite any fear or terror in me. Adrenaline, yes. Every second I spend near him sends my heart pounding. My mind turns into mush when he gets too close. I don't like him, the way he treats me is terrible, but in equal parts excites me. Even now, I am spiraling, and I don't know if it has to do with his vampirism or something else entirely.

"I am a vampire, Isabella. The kind of evil creature from myth and legend. The ruthless beast that feeds on the blood of humans… And you, my darling, belong to me now."

He spoke the words with such possessiveness that I cannot help but fight back. I do not want him making my decisions for me.

"I do not know you, Master Aro. What if I do not wish to be with you?"

Aro snarls, lips still resting on the shell of my ear. "You have no choice in this matter."

"But-"

He pulls back suddenly, and a ferocious roar reverberates throughout the room. In a rush, Aro pulls me off of the bed and pushes me up against the wall. There is animalistic anger in his eyes which convinces me that taunting him is an entirely foolish decision. "Do. Not. Argue. With. Me. Isabella."

I flinch at the venom in his voice and attempt to turn my head away from his ire. But he does not allow this. Cold fingers grip my chin, forcing my attention back to him. I see the same shift in behavior he exhibited in Caius' study manifest before me as his anger disappears suddenly, replaced with calculated gregariousness. He stares into my soul, a maniacal grin spreading onto his features, and all I can see is his face multiplying across the spectrum of my vision. Air is harder to breathe. Black spots dance into the picture, and I worry that I may pass out.

Instead, he breaks eye contact and warm blankets encompass me. I find myself back on the bed, except under the embroidered quilt this time. And it smells like him; that same scent of spearmint, sage, and patchouli. It is all-encompassing, wrapping me in its comfort.

I hate the reaction he elicits in me, just by the scent of his skin. This is all so wrong. So quick, so instinctual. And I hate him for what he is doing to me. Who is this man to swoop in and stomp on my new reality? Who is he to crawl under my skin and stick to my very spine within seconds of meeting my eyes for the very first time?

And I think I might be sick. Because I should not feel this way for somehow who has shown me nothing but their wrath.

"What are you doing to me?" I manage to rasp out while pulling the quilt up to my nose.

Another snarl. I squeeze my eyes shut as if that could drown out the sound. And then silence, a lingering quiet that only serves to unnerve me further. And as the emptiness grows, so does my resolve to stand up to him, again. But before I move to adjust myself and face the man again, his tension-laced baritone carries across the room.

"I must go. Do not leave these rooms, under any circumstances. Jane will fetch you when I am ready to see you again."

Before I have the chance to protest, he is gone, the door slamming behind him.

~AB~

I stay in the bed for a few minutes after he leaves, frozen in shock. Like a whirlpool, my mind loops around the encounter with Aro, replaying every word, every touch, every breath. Nothing about our first meeting went well - he was abhorrent in every way. The mere idea of a man treating a woman in such a manner sparks a fiery rage in my soul.

But there is something greater at work here, something I am sure he will keep from me. After all, Aro is the one with the power in this scenario. Not me.

I am a servant - payment for a debt. He is the master; master of this entire community if I am not mistaken. But what does "being his" mean for me? What does any of this mean?

You know nothing of your place in this world, Isabella.

Eventually, I realize that Aro will not return any time soon, and I carefully pull myself off the warmth of his bed. I try the door first, but of course, he locked it on his way out. Irritation surges, sending my hands into fists. I stamp out the spark of hopelessness for I cannot afford to wallow in my misery and try the door kitty-corner to the one we entered through.

I twist the knob, and it opens, slowly revealing a marble-covered washroom. Burgundy wallpaper coats the walls like a bottle of rich red wine, dripping down to meet an ornately carved marble trim. Cherubs and demons fight against a cloudy white background, lining the perimeter of the room in magnificence. A large tub sits in the center, surrounded by basins, herbs, and piles of folded decedent cloth.

Will I ever have the opportunity to put this room to use? Better yet, does Aro have any use for this room? How do vampires even groom?

The questions grow as the reality of the impossible truth settles onto my shoulders. Vampires, how could such creatures exist outside of scary stories and legend? And if they exist, what other creatures of the night roam the earth?

A knock on the other door makes me jump. I scramble back a bit, suddenly out of sorts. The sound of keys turning the lock on the door, and the slow opening creak of the hinges make my heart pound - though I'm not sure whether it is in fear or anticipation.

A voice jingles like a sleigh bell, calming me with just a few words. "It's Jane, Miss Isabella. Master Aro sent me to escort you to the throne room."

I feel relief, a sudden flush of calmness. Not Aro.

"Oh. Come in." I take a deep breath and step out of the bathroom. In the doorway stands a girl no older than fourteen. Her silky blond hair is pinned back into a knot at the base of her neck, giving her heart-shaped, porcelain face the spotlight. The girl steps into the room, and quietly shuts the door behind her.

"Well," I start, trying my best to muster a smile for the girl. "If this was another time or place. I would say that it is a pleasure to meet you, Jane."

The girl smiles back at me, but I see the disappointment creep into her large red eyes. Understanding that this is not where I wish to be.

"Nonsense. It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Isabella." Jane almost sparkles then, and she reaches her hands out to me in greeting. I take her hands, only slightly startled by the temperature this time. But it strikes me then just how much trust I have put into the vampires in this castle. Such foolishness. Just because a few have shown me true kindness does not mean that the entirety of inhabitants here have good intentions towards me. I would do well to remember that.

Jane releases my hands and takes a step back. Her gaze peruses my appearance, and a small frown settles on her lips. "We should get you ready to head to the throne room."

"The throne room?" Before today, I didn't venture past my own room, Caius' study, the library, and the kitchens. Not that I wasn't allowed, but Heidi's adamance that exploring was not a good idea kept me sequestered.

"Yes." Jane gestures for me to sit down on the end of the bed. My feet feel glued to the floor, but somehow I manage to push myself forward. I lower myself back onto the quilt, sending Aro's scent back into the air. The warmth of patchouli seeps into my bones, relaxing me further. "You are to meet the Kings and the guard, today."

The reason behind these actions is still so far from me. What importance do I hold?

"Are they going to eat me?"

A chiming giggle escapes from Jane's lips. She stands across the room now, pulling a gown out of a chest in a closet I hadn't noticed yet. "Nobody is going to eat you, Isabella."

I nod then and turn my head to fixate on the bathroom door. God a bath would be nice right now.

"This gown is old, but it will have to do. You can borrow one of the Master's cloaks to wear over it."

I mumble in agreement, still not looking at the girl. What would it feel like to lower myself into the warmth of a welcoming tub after so long washing up in the servants' bath? Such simple things as hot water seem so far away from my grasp, but closer now than just yesterday.

"Isabella?" Jane is standing in front of me now, a deep purple gown held up between her small hands. "Is this alright?"

I squint at the gown, unable to process the beauty of it in my current mood. It is more risqué than the dresses I've worn in the past, but modest nonetheless. Long sleeves fall past the waist, made of satin and trimmed with looping embroidery.

"May I wash up first?" I ask, turning my gaze from the gown to Jane. I see the no in her eyes before she even says a word.

"After you return from meeting the kings. Aro will grow impatient if we keep him waiting any longer."

I relent to the compromise, easily. I don't want to deal with more of the abhorrent man than I need to, even if that means trying to stay on his good side for the rest of the afternoon.

Jane helps me get into the dress, her gentle hands working on lacing the back with a chord while I marvel at the feel of the satin as it slides across my skin. I've never worn a gown so grand. And she called it old.

"Who did this belong to before, Jane?" Surely, someone of great importance to Aro. Why else would he keep it in his rooms?

Jane tightens the lacing with a tug, eliciting a gasp from me. "Master Aro's sister, Didyme."

"Oh." The answer sparks more questions in me, but Jane cuts off the conversation before I can press the subject.

A velvet black cloak surrounds my shoulders, and Jane appears in front of me again, closing the clasp at my neck. "Much better," she almost whispers. "There now. It's time to go."

~AB~

The trek to the throne room sets me on fire. Every nerve burns with both anticipation and anxiety. Who are the kings? How many are there besides Aro and Caius? Who is in charge here?

Probably, Aro. The answer to the last question seems obvious to me. Such arrogance and surging possessiveness can only be borne from great power. In our short, albeit flaming, encounter, he exuded intimidation that would send the bravest of men running in the opposite direction.

Something attracted me to him just this morning. Something that canceled out fear. I should be terrified of him. I should be shaking - trembling - with fear. But I am not. Instead, I feel an ever-growing desire to be near to him. It isn't an intense feeling; instead, it's rather like a dog hair weaving itself into the fabric of your favorite sweater. So minuscule, but once you see it, you know you can't pull it out at the risk of ruining the knitting.

This is too quick. It's unnatural.

All of this is unnatural.

Even Jane, this sweet young soul I hope to call friend one day, is unnatural.

Thinking of Jane, I turn my head in her direction. And that's when I see the shift in her demeanor I didn't notice before. She isn't smiling, nor looking at me for that matter. She is staring straight ahead, a murderous glare chiseled into her delicate features.

"Are you alright, Jane?"

"Yes. I am, thank you, Isabella." Her voice holds no tone or emotion. But she does not turn her glare on me, and I take that as a good sign.

"You should call me Bella, Jane."

Her glare falters, and I see the twitch of a smile infect her facade. It's gone in a second. We're good.

"Okay, Bella."

We don't speak again. Not even when we get to the chamber doors. But we didn't need to. Instead, Jane brushes her hand across my shoulder on her way to open the dark, ornately carved doors. Courage, Bella.