Chapter 3
If Quatre had been scared and confused before, he had practically lost his sanity now. Looking at the demon creature, or whatever it was sitting on his bed, caused unusually profane words to come to his mind, and he ranted for several minutes until he ran out of words to say. One green eye looked at him amusingly. Finally, he regained some sense and could speak normally.
"Who the hell are you? Why are you even here?"
The creature looked down at the bloodless dagger it had pulled from
its neck.
"Trowa. I'm here because I choose to be."
Quatre found himself shaking all over from shock. He sat down in a nearby chair, unusually close to the thing on his bed.
"You are a vampire."
Trowa nodded. "I knew you would attempt to kill me, justifiably so, and I did not want to say anything before then. You are very good with your defense," he added as an afterthought.
Quatre didn't know what to say. He was silent for some time until he asked, "How do you know me?"
"I saw you once," said the vampire. Quatre could see that he didn't like talking, and decided to continue asking questions.
"So it was you who followed me last night." Trowa nodded, so he continued. "Why did you kill Releena?"
"I did not kill anyone."
"But you know who I'm talking about, don't you? One of your kind killed her, and you know who it was."
Trowa nodded again, but a knock on the door prevented him from replying.
"Lord Quatre, is everything alright?" It was one of the numerous guards that patrolled the house. Quatre saw the vampire looking curiously at him, as if wondering what he would do. Without really thinking, he replied, "Everything's fine. Please go away."
"He won't leave," Trowa said quietly.
"I know." He glared with aqua eyes at the lanky figure next to him. "I'm not finished talking to you, though." Pointing towards his balcony door, he said, "I'm going out there."
He was more than a little startled when Trowa appeared on the balcony without ever crossing the floor. Ignoring his pounding heart, he sat down on the railing, glancing below at the garden two stories lower.
"Aren't you afraid that I'm going to harm you?"
Quatre looked toward the vampire. He was surprisingly handsome, not at all how something so evil would be thought to look.
"If you were going to harm me, Trowa, you could have done so several times already."
"Very well, then."
"What about Releena?"
"You mean the girl? Someone drained her too quickly, and consequently, she died of fear and loss of blood."
Quatre shuddered, and wondered if he would be sick.
"She was to be my betrothed, you know."
"Were you in love with her?"
"No."
"Well then it doesn't matter."
"She was an innocent girl! Someone like her didn't deserve to die, especially in that way."
"I agree."
"Is that why you're here then? Surely you wouldn't want revenge on one of your own."
"Certainly not. I'm here so you would know what really happened, for you, of all people, should deserve to know. What you do with the information is completely up to you."
"Well then... thank you." Quatre felt slightly dizzy. Staying up for 36 hours had done nothing for his well being.
Trowa could obviously tell. "You need sleep." He walked up and handed Quatre's dagger back to him.
"Thank you," Quatre said quietly, taking the knife. "I suppose this means you're leaving?" He felt a vague regret, something he couldn't pinpoint exactly. "Will you come back?" The words came out of his mouth before he took the time to think.
The vampire actually appeared surprised at his request. His one visible eyebrow raised slightly, and a look of confusion, and perhaps admiration, crossed his face.
"If you wish," Trowa answered, short as ever. "You can expect me."
He smiled and vanished into the dark, leaving Quatre alone just as one of his sisters walked into the room.
"What are you doing out there?" she asked, coming to meet him on the balcony. "I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone, so I assumed you weren't alone." She looked around.
"Are you spying on me now, sister?" He asked jokingly.
"No, no, not like that. Actually, I came to tell you that Mister Peacecraft is here especially to see you."
"Milliardo?" That was strange. Quatre thought the man would be spending the night in prayer, as was customary to do when one's relative passed on.
He could feel Milliardo's pain as soon as he walked into the room. It was disturbing, for not only did Quatre sense sorrow, but fiery anger as well, which made him wonder if he had somehow offended the tall blonde man.
"Milliardo ... what brings you here?"
"I wanted to talk to you ... about... Relena." He spoke the words with obvious difficulty, and Quatre's heart softened towards him.
"It's because, well, I think that you and I were the one's she loved most."
He must have seen the look of shock on Quatre's face, for he continued quickly. "I know that you weren't in love with her, after all, you couldn't have known her all that well, but you must know she adored you. I never saw her so happy as when she looked or talked or was around your presence."
Quatre felt very awkward. "Your sister was beautiful, and one of the most intelligent girls I've ever met. I admired her truly."
Milliardo smiled ever so slightly, but there was no happiness in it, only a dim satisfaction.
"That makes me feel better about why I came." He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "Every one is saying that Relena killed herself, that there was no other way she could have just died like that. Do you believe that?"
Quatre's heart constricted. He knew the truth, almost all of it, but there was no way he could tell it. Or was it because he didn't want to? Green eyes flashed in his mind, the elegant figure and smooth voice of Trowa was burned into his memory. That strange feeling came again, something he couldn't describe but weirdly desired.
He shook the feeling off. Millardo was waiting for an answer, and Quatre had to decide how to reply.
"No," he said at last. "From what I knew about her, I don't think she would. But there is little explanation for anything else, it seems. Is it possible she had some unidentified disease, with no outward effects?"
"Perhaps, but that would be a strange disease, to attack suddenly like that. I'll tell you what I think. I think that somebody killed her."
Quatre sighed. "It's not unlikely. A very talented assassin could have done the job. Actually, it's probably the closest explanation." He paused. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find out who did it, and cut them into as many pieces as possible."
The statement, spoken so simply, worried Quatre. Even if he hadn't known what really happened to the girl, Milliardo's proposed actions would cause nothing but trouble on all accounts. Quatre had to try and change his mind.
"Milliardo, I know you're angry, but trying to seek revenge isn't going to help anyone. Relena's dead; it's over."
"You're wrong, Quatre," he replied. "It' too late now. I won't have any rest until I do this. I can't think about anything else. Don't you understand?"
"Please, just think about it first. What's done is done, even if it's still fresh in your mind. At least wait until some of the pain goes away, won't you?"
"I'll think on what you've said, at least tonight. Now I really should go to the church, and pray through the night for Releena. I would be honored if you would come with me."
Quatre groaned inwardly. There was no way he could refuse, even if he was miserably tired. Trying to hide his disappointment, he smiled slightly and began walking with Milliardo in the direction of the chapel.
If Quatre had been scared and confused before, he had practically lost his sanity now. Looking at the demon creature, or whatever it was sitting on his bed, caused unusually profane words to come to his mind, and he ranted for several minutes until he ran out of words to say. One green eye looked at him amusingly. Finally, he regained some sense and could speak normally.
"Who the hell are you? Why are you even here?"
The creature looked down at the bloodless dagger it had pulled from
its neck.
"Trowa. I'm here because I choose to be."
Quatre found himself shaking all over from shock. He sat down in a nearby chair, unusually close to the thing on his bed.
"You are a vampire."
Trowa nodded. "I knew you would attempt to kill me, justifiably so, and I did not want to say anything before then. You are very good with your defense," he added as an afterthought.
Quatre didn't know what to say. He was silent for some time until he asked, "How do you know me?"
"I saw you once," said the vampire. Quatre could see that he didn't like talking, and decided to continue asking questions.
"So it was you who followed me last night." Trowa nodded, so he continued. "Why did you kill Releena?"
"I did not kill anyone."
"But you know who I'm talking about, don't you? One of your kind killed her, and you know who it was."
Trowa nodded again, but a knock on the door prevented him from replying.
"Lord Quatre, is everything alright?" It was one of the numerous guards that patrolled the house. Quatre saw the vampire looking curiously at him, as if wondering what he would do. Without really thinking, he replied, "Everything's fine. Please go away."
"He won't leave," Trowa said quietly.
"I know." He glared with aqua eyes at the lanky figure next to him. "I'm not finished talking to you, though." Pointing towards his balcony door, he said, "I'm going out there."
He was more than a little startled when Trowa appeared on the balcony without ever crossing the floor. Ignoring his pounding heart, he sat down on the railing, glancing below at the garden two stories lower.
"Aren't you afraid that I'm going to harm you?"
Quatre looked toward the vampire. He was surprisingly handsome, not at all how something so evil would be thought to look.
"If you were going to harm me, Trowa, you could have done so several times already."
"Very well, then."
"What about Releena?"
"You mean the girl? Someone drained her too quickly, and consequently, she died of fear and loss of blood."
Quatre shuddered, and wondered if he would be sick.
"She was to be my betrothed, you know."
"Were you in love with her?"
"No."
"Well then it doesn't matter."
"She was an innocent girl! Someone like her didn't deserve to die, especially in that way."
"I agree."
"Is that why you're here then? Surely you wouldn't want revenge on one of your own."
"Certainly not. I'm here so you would know what really happened, for you, of all people, should deserve to know. What you do with the information is completely up to you."
"Well then... thank you." Quatre felt slightly dizzy. Staying up for 36 hours had done nothing for his well being.
Trowa could obviously tell. "You need sleep." He walked up and handed Quatre's dagger back to him.
"Thank you," Quatre said quietly, taking the knife. "I suppose this means you're leaving?" He felt a vague regret, something he couldn't pinpoint exactly. "Will you come back?" The words came out of his mouth before he took the time to think.
The vampire actually appeared surprised at his request. His one visible eyebrow raised slightly, and a look of confusion, and perhaps admiration, crossed his face.
"If you wish," Trowa answered, short as ever. "You can expect me."
He smiled and vanished into the dark, leaving Quatre alone just as one of his sisters walked into the room.
"What are you doing out there?" she asked, coming to meet him on the balcony. "I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone, so I assumed you weren't alone." She looked around.
"Are you spying on me now, sister?" He asked jokingly.
"No, no, not like that. Actually, I came to tell you that Mister Peacecraft is here especially to see you."
"Milliardo?" That was strange. Quatre thought the man would be spending the night in prayer, as was customary to do when one's relative passed on.
He could feel Milliardo's pain as soon as he walked into the room. It was disturbing, for not only did Quatre sense sorrow, but fiery anger as well, which made him wonder if he had somehow offended the tall blonde man.
"Milliardo ... what brings you here?"
"I wanted to talk to you ... about... Relena." He spoke the words with obvious difficulty, and Quatre's heart softened towards him.
"It's because, well, I think that you and I were the one's she loved most."
He must have seen the look of shock on Quatre's face, for he continued quickly. "I know that you weren't in love with her, after all, you couldn't have known her all that well, but you must know she adored you. I never saw her so happy as when she looked or talked or was around your presence."
Quatre felt very awkward. "Your sister was beautiful, and one of the most intelligent girls I've ever met. I admired her truly."
Milliardo smiled ever so slightly, but there was no happiness in it, only a dim satisfaction.
"That makes me feel better about why I came." He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "Every one is saying that Relena killed herself, that there was no other way she could have just died like that. Do you believe that?"
Quatre's heart constricted. He knew the truth, almost all of it, but there was no way he could tell it. Or was it because he didn't want to? Green eyes flashed in his mind, the elegant figure and smooth voice of Trowa was burned into his memory. That strange feeling came again, something he couldn't describe but weirdly desired.
He shook the feeling off. Millardo was waiting for an answer, and Quatre had to decide how to reply.
"No," he said at last. "From what I knew about her, I don't think she would. But there is little explanation for anything else, it seems. Is it possible she had some unidentified disease, with no outward effects?"
"Perhaps, but that would be a strange disease, to attack suddenly like that. I'll tell you what I think. I think that somebody killed her."
Quatre sighed. "It's not unlikely. A very talented assassin could have done the job. Actually, it's probably the closest explanation." He paused. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find out who did it, and cut them into as many pieces as possible."
The statement, spoken so simply, worried Quatre. Even if he hadn't known what really happened to the girl, Milliardo's proposed actions would cause nothing but trouble on all accounts. Quatre had to try and change his mind.
"Milliardo, I know you're angry, but trying to seek revenge isn't going to help anyone. Relena's dead; it's over."
"You're wrong, Quatre," he replied. "It' too late now. I won't have any rest until I do this. I can't think about anything else. Don't you understand?"
"Please, just think about it first. What's done is done, even if it's still fresh in your mind. At least wait until some of the pain goes away, won't you?"
"I'll think on what you've said, at least tonight. Now I really should go to the church, and pray through the night for Releena. I would be honored if you would come with me."
Quatre groaned inwardly. There was no way he could refuse, even if he was miserably tired. Trying to hide his disappointment, he smiled slightly and began walking with Milliardo in the direction of the chapel.