Author's Notes: WE HIT 400 REVIEWS!? HOW?! lol THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! I can't get over it...really, I can't. I'm so happy I still have readers after so many years and so much semicolon abuse XD Seriously, you are all wonderful! I've enjoyed reading your feedback so much, it's what's been makin' these updates quick!

Lot's of (...)'s in this chapter. Can't be helped. Dramatic pauses are dramatic! And soooo much story progression in one chapter! UNF. This was both fun and miserable to write! There is a dream sequence in this update, be on the lookout for those tilted x's! About the 'dreamy' part, I like to kind keep them vague. Feels more real that way. I took out most of the detail and made it skip around some...you'll see it, I'm sure. It's not intentionally rushed, just intentionally broken up. 8D

WARNING: This chapter is rated M. You have been warned.

Love or Blood

Chapter Forty-seven: Lost

Vicente continued to look at me. His face was sympathetic but his eyes held a lingering darkness that I had come to know. The Count often looked at me with a similar intensity. It made me uncomfortable but I tried my best not to show it. My cheeks were still warm and flushed by his flattery. His praise and honeyed words were touching and unexpected. Regardless, I did not like them no matter how sweet they sounded. They were far too forceful and unneeded. I had given Vicente permission to use what he called the Vampire's Seduction on my person. I can wholly admit that when it first took me I was certainly captivated by him and only wanted his pleasure. But as its intensity began to fade, it left me wondering who was the truly 'seduced' between us.

I consoled myself with understanding. My blood had covered my clothes and most of my skin, it was also left stagnant in a now cooling basin alongside us. That, coupled with his spell and touch during the healing process, I supposed his sudden interest was normal. In truth, I believed it to be my fault and had something occurred, I would have accepted full responsibility. Nevertheless, I desperately wished he would calm himself. Vicente still looked like he had the great intent of touching me again and was inwardly battling himself over the idea.

"I have enjoyed your company, Miss Abigale Lynn," Vicente said rather unexpectedly, his voice still tight. I felt myself flinch, fearing another passionate admission. "I shall endeavor to think of you as my family, although I believe this will be easily accomplished. I already see you as a dear friend and we hardly know each other at all. As such, I think we should keep my use of magic on you strictly between us. The Count would not be pleased if he knew I did such a thing. I will readily take the scolding for healing you, though. I'm afraid that lecturing cannot be avoided."

I felt relieved and nodded to him. "I-I think that would be wise. I don't want to upset him further..." But then I stopped, so taken aback by Vicente's abruptly warped expression.

He suddenly looked very apprehensive. His body had tensed slightly. I watched him as he toyed with a little black band on his finger, he then looked away towards the far wall. "Oh dear..well, it seems as though I shall be in much more trouble than originally thought. The Count is now back in the Castle and he is rather formidable." I swallowed hard, my blood gone cold and watched the door. I was trying hard to control my fear in front of Vicente. "Do no be so startled, Abigale Lynn. His current anger is directed at me. The reason for that will be evident soon enough. Try to soothe yourself and remember what we discussed. I will speak to him about your situation when he too calms."

Hesitantly, I nodded. Vicente had straightened and stood. He pushed in the chair he had previously occupied and walked away from me, nearly moving to the other end of the room. He noticed me watching him with interest and smiled. "That terrible Mine faze, my dear. Janus is by far the worst offender I have ever seen. Best if I distance myself a little." I was unable to comment as I heard footsteps approaching the chamber. I placed my hands in my lap and tried to be still and breathe.

Hearing the Count's voice from the hallway caused the little hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Soon the door to the room burst open and there he stood in its opening, still cloaked from his evening walk. As predicted he was angry, whether it was directed more at Vicente or myself, I did not know. His expression was fixed and intense, his person hostile. I wanted to watch him - solely for the purpose of monitoring his movements but was afraid to. I did not want him to see me observing him. Instead, I hunched my shoulders, back pressed firmly to my seat and stared at the floor. My knuckles soon turned white in my lap, nails digging painfully into my palms. Forcing myself to remain motionless was an impossibly difficult task.

"I have something of yours." The Count said darkly. I willed myself to look up to see him addressing Vicente. Shamefully, I felt relief that his tone was not directed at me. He stepped further into the room, no longer blocking the entrance. He began ushering another into the chamber but his eyes then flicked to me as he did this, causing me to regret pulling my attention from the floor. The Count's stare hardened as he looked me over. His gaze alone almost put me into hysterics. It made me feel as though Nirn was crumbling in on itself.

My lip quivered. I opened my mouth to try and speak when the newcomer boisterously interrupted my attempt. "Sweet Mother! The smell! Do you smell that, Vicente?!" I blinked and was thoroughly surprised and shocked to see that it was Nerah Vlando to enter the room. She pulled back her hood, a frighteningly big smile on her face, revealing canines much larger than I remembered..."It's like apples and cinnamon and sweets! Warm pie! Sweetrolls!" She smelled the air and stepped closer, "Fresh strawberries and cream! A big, big bouquet of flowers sprinkled with dew! A little like sex too but really good sex - like if the Divines had an orgy! Gods, is this what love smells like?! Where is it coming from?!"

Nerah Vlando then looked to me. I was mortified by here stare. Her eyes had once been a dark blue, now they shone red like a polished ruby. There was an underlining pink hue to her iris that was identical to Vicente's. I knew then what he had neglected to tell me earlier. Vicente had turned Nerah Vlando into a vampire. The realization was astounding and left me startled as well as perplexed. Indeed it unnerved me and I was greatly disturbed by it all. However, I was not so discouraged as to not leave with her if given the chance...

All the same, it hit me then that I was presently in a room surrounded by vampires: one dominating and violent in his affection, the other passionately involved, and now the newly curious third. My mind registered the triple danger which caused my chest to flutter. The sudden fluctuation of my heart quickly grabbed the attention of all company. I unwittingly garnered an audience as three pairs of vibrantly red eyes fell to me.

"By Sithis, Lady Abigale Lynn! You smell like love and desire and beauty and sex and life and -"

"Nerah, that is enough. Remain silent until I say otherwise, please." Vicente said with an air of authority that I had yet to ever hear him utilize. I was thankful that he stopped her, also for the distraction. He then extended an arm to Nerah Vlando which she readily clung to and moved to embrace him. He touched her shoulder gently and stroked her dark hair. Despite the caress appearing intimate, their faces plainly showed that it was not. It was more like a strange understanding. She looked at Vicente as though he were speaking in a foreign tongue that she loosely understood, while he looked upon her like a doting father. "Remember what we spoke of? Do not pay any mind to the things you cannot have. Shut off your senses and remain complacent in your hunger. It will subside."

"How charming," The Count then snapped, effectively recapturing my attention. "You so readily advise. How unfortunate that you do not practice what you yourself preach." He gestured to Nerah Vlando and laughed without mirth. "I find a dead child wandering outside my city walls. Said dead child killed at the hands of my great confidant, the man who mere hours before tried to teach me of self-control...have you no dignity? No shame?" He moved closer to the two. "I thought you of the Dark Brotherhood valued discretion. Yet she was easy to discover and obtain, a prominent blight on my land, almost as though you wanted me to find her...I can only imagine your agenda now, Vicente. I know you have one."

Vicente casually moved Nerah Vlando behind him and closer to me. He had told me that vampires could read emotions like a language. I wondered if he thought the Count was a danger to Nerah. I did not doubt it so I did not look at her. "You stumbling upon my ward was purely accidental, Janus. Simple coincidence. I have no motives in regards to - "

"But you have motives." The Count stated boldly, effectively halting Vicente's speech. "It seems to be an awfully favorable occurrence for you. I am so close to the cure...then I find this?" He again nodded to Nerah Vlando, leaving me puzzled by his words. Cure? "Perhaps you knew of the witch already and simply chose not to tell me. It would be more appropriate for one in your profession to sit and hold such information, only give it when you yourself have need of it. Why play all of your cards at once? It is more beneficial for you to keep me in your pocket. How much of my funding actually went to finding this woman?"

"Count Janus Hassildor, I would not do such a thing." Vicente declared loudly, with much disdain. "This is simply how it all fell into place. The morning after she was made a vampire I received confirmation of the witch's location. I have no malicious intent towards you, nor would I try to steal what you have so coveted. I am appalled that you think otherwise."

"What is your motive then, Valtieri?" The Count demanded, staring hard at his friend. "You are up to something. What is it?"

There was a moment of quite as both vampires considered the other. "Janus," Vicente eventually said, sounding tired. "I wish to speak to you of other things, yes. But not with an audience. May we talk in private? This concern is a...tentative one. The subject matter is a very delicate and fragile thing. I'm sure you understand."

The Count slowly turned to me then, his eyes sweeping over my every inch before again settling on Vicente. "Fine. Give me a moment alone with her."

Vicente was quick to grab Nerah Vlando and steer her towards the door. "We shall be in the hall." He said, and although he spoke in the Count's direction, I knew his words were directed at me. It was a sweet notion, him hoping to comfort me, but I was not in any way reassured. Despite his consideration, I did not think Vicente Valtieri would ever endanger himself or his ward on my behalf, nor would I expect him to. Stepping in front of an angry Count was one thing, stopping him from actively harming me was another. Thus, I would find no measure of solace in any amount of thoughtful words or sweet sentiments.

With the Count's attention set on the two vampires exiting the chamber, I stealthily stood from my chair and tried to move a small ways away from him. The door closed behind them and the click was deafening. The Count was quick to turn around. He approached me fast, moving with purpose, not allowing me time to prepare myself. I felt panic. "I-I'm sorry," I said in a fast whisper, my hands going up defensively. "I'm so sorry for what I did."

"I know you are." He commented, his tone of pure ire. He then took hold of my jaw, causing me to flinch and shocking me with the gentleness of his grip. He stared at me intensely for a moment and then turned my head to the side. With his free hand, his fingers delicately ran down the length of my neck. "Where is my mark?"

I inhaled shakily. I was trying desperately to stop my fear from preventing my answer. "V-Vicente healed it for me."

His hand traveled further down to the parting of my robe. He lightly touched my breast, his face contorting to a scowl. "You let him touch you there as well?" He growled, near looming over me. "I gave him no such authority. He is not to heal you, nevermind touch you unless I say otherwise."

"It hurt," I swallowed hard. His look was crazed. It shook me to my very marrow. "I-it was also greatly infected. He was only doing me a kindness. T-the infection could have spread and..." My voice finally died in my throat by the expression on his face. It was again that still very new livid and quiet stare.

"He is not to touch you. He is not to heal you. And I was not finished with you. I may yet want more." His tone was low and stern. I wanted to move away from him, fearing that he would soon follow his statement with action but I forced myself to be still. "I thought it kinder to drink from the marks I had already inflicted. No matter, it is done then. We shall remedy this by starting anew later. " I chewed on my lip and nodded to him. Truly, what more could I do? "I can smell him on you. I do not like it." The Count commented abruptly, working his hand into my hair. "Be rid of it. Go and bathe in my bedchamber. You are to wait for me there."

XXXX

Nerah Vlando had been confined to the Blue Room of the Castle's manor while the Count and Vicente spoke in its study. Vicente could not help but notice how orderly the room had become. More often than not this particular chamber was usually thoroughly messed. Janus was a creature of habit and often dabbled in magic and alchemy in here. Enchanted scrolls and ink-stained journals were often left scattered about and opened while dangerous ingredients could be left by something so unassuming, like a cheeseboard. Of course, all was kept safely locked away and the Count was not foolish enough to unknowingly harm himself. Still, seeing all so very tidy was questionable. The Count was apparently not in his usual mindset.

"No tinkering with the delicate universal fabrics of life? So very unlike you." Vicente remarked lightly, hoping to lessen the oppressing mood.

"I am otherwise engaged. What is your agenda in regards to Abigale Lynn?" The Count said swiftly, effectively cutting out Vicente's normal banter.

"...Fine. I see you are in no mood for pleasantries. I shall get right to the point." The elder vampire straightened and then looked directly at the man before him. "Abigale Lynn is a troubled young girl and you are worsening her mind. I have never seen a child so depleted and resigned to abuse. She is ready to accept whatever punishment you have in store. She will willingly embrace it, as is her duty to you...It is positively shameful. Since when have you been so ruled by your dark impulses?"

"You're one to talk," The Count spat venomously. "Your ward is dead. Abigale Lynn still draws breath, despite me being oh so cruel. We cannot say the same for your 'Family Member'."

Vicente narrowed his gaze. "Nerah Vlando was not turned out of cruelty. I offered her the Dark Gift and she accepted. There was no violence in our union. You, however, are mentally unhinging and volatile. I believe Abigale Lynn to be in more danger in your company than anywhere else in Cyrodiil."

"Mentally unhinging?" The Count echoed mockingly, sounding mildly amused by the accusation. "What nonsense. I would not hurt her. Who are you to question my psychological state?"

"Oh, please, Janus!" Vicente nearly shouted in exasperation. He was having difficulty understanding the Count's delusions of normalcy. "You are currently about as stable as a house of cards! And on a windy day, I might add."

This caused the Count's face to twitch into a deeper scowl. "Is this what you wanted to talk about, my apparently 'fractured' mind? You are wasting my time."

Vicente crossed his arms and glared up at the Count. "And you are ruining your chances of love with that girl down the hall. Such a shame. She is a sweet thing who only wanted your happiness."

"What did she tell you? Did she say something?" Janus' mood again altered dramatically, going from mild annoyance to blinding fury in the blink of an eye. Vicente merely watched on as it unfolded, proving his point without any words. "I knew it. I knew it! She does not love me. I will make her love me then. I will not wait another fifty years for affection that I am rightfully entitled to! Who does she think she is toying with? I own her every breath!"

"Stop now." The elder vampire said coolly, arms still crossed, one finger raised. "Abigale Lynn said nothing negative to me. However, she did express her very rational fears. Perhaps if there was an echo in here you yourself would realize just how insane you sound. I can only imagine the terror you strike in a mortal girl. The poor thing is sure to die from fright at this rate." Vicente eyed his still very livid friend disapprovingly. He thought of the beautiful Abigale Lynn having to endure such treatment. It angered him. "You are more deadly to that girl than a poison. Hear me now and hear me well...

"I sympathize with you, Janus. You know I do. However, this madness has to end before you do something you cannot fix. I believe your problems stem from trauma. It cannot be said gently but still, it must me said: your mind is wounded, the injury inflicted by your wife. Now all is coming to a close and it is causing that damage to hemorrhage. You are acting so irrationally due to all your pain. It is again brought to the surface and you alone must suffer it. No one can aid you in this sorrow." Vicente then gestured to the door behind him. "The girl down the hall did not do this to you. You brought her into your anguish and demanded her to be accepting. Now you seek to wrongly punish her for her natural reluctance. This is a nightmare for your Abigale Lynn. Her spirit will break from your hold and her mind will slip away. She will be gone from you, Janus. Just as your wife is gone from you now."

The Count was rendered silent, emotion gone from his features. He stood in the middle of the room, fingers flexing in thought. He could not comment, he could not think. Janus looked away, "Then what must I do?"

"You need to mourn," Vicente said gently. "You need to grieve the passing of your wife without interruption. You will never be at peace until you give yourself this chance. Abigale Lynn is a distraction. You will resent her for interfering, I believe a part of you already does...I think it would be wise and safest for her to be removed from your care, for a time."

Janus' sorrow quickly turned to anger and suspicion. His expressions were night and day. A violent shift in temperament, like witnessing glass shatter. He slowly advanced, eyeing the other vampire dangerously, until they were only a few feet apart. "And where will she go?" He questioned slowly, his tone threatening. "With you? Was this your ploy? You think I will relinquish her unto you? This is a fantasy that should be corrected." The Count stood disturbingly motionless. Vicente thought Janus looked more beastlike now than ever before, which was a feat to achieve. Vicente had witnessed the Count's prowess in hunting, Janus could easily intimidate prey.

"Let her go while you mourn." The elder again stated boldly, consciously ignoring the Count's threat. "Let her help you resolve your sadness. She can assist in obtaining the cure, Janus. She will still be serving you then. I think you should show her this mercy. Abigale Lynn is not safe with you. Let her go. She will return to you, I will make sure of that. It will only be for a short while. We of the Brotherhood -"

"The Brotherhood?! You think I would let her run off with a company of murderers?! Have you forgotten what one of your Family tried to do? You are more 'unhinged' than I if you think I would ever permit that!"

"That was dealt with accordingly and would not happen again." Vicente declared. "And we may be murderers but we are well trained. We can keep Abigale Lynn safe from all. We would also never want to break our very important bond with Skingrad. I feel that us not offering you this would be deceitful. Your friendship is crucial, you yourself know that it would be beyond foolish to cross you. Think of this as insurance or as extended assistance. We will be providing you security by protecting her from you." The Count said nothing, he only continued to stare Vicente down from the bridge of his nose. The elder vampire decided to try and force his point. "I know you long to keep her, Janus. And no matter where she goes she shall remain yours, that cannot be argued but I think if you love her as much as you claim to, you will let her go. Her absence will not be eternal, I can't say the same if you seek to keep her here."

At this, Janus' dark brows furrowed. Silence stretched between them and the room grew thick with tension. Vicente found it strange that Janus did not provide a further rebuke. Instead, the Count seemed to steadily gain an air of composure. He crossed his arms behind his back and looked away, speaking far too calmly. "Did you discuss this with her?"

Vicente paused and eyed the Count skeptically, finding his sudden change in demeanor and question suspicious. "Why does that matter?"

"I need to know. Did you discuss this with her?"

"...I did. I told her vaguely of your needs. She desperately wants to help you. The time apart will aid you both, as I've already said. It will give her a small semblance of freedom also. She will return to you rekindled and grateful. Perhaps in her travels, she will see her family. That would mean the world to her, I'm sure."

But then the Count straightened and shook his head. "I'm sure seeing her family would have brought her happiness but it cannot be. Firstly, there is no way in Oblivion that I would let her go, do not again question my affection...it is unwise. Secondly, she will never be seeing her family again for there is no family left living. I have looked."

Vicente was shocked. He immediately felt remorseful and guilty for encouraging Abigale Lynn to reconcile with her family. He hoped that Janus was misinformed. "Are you certain?" The Count grimly nodded, leaving Vicente greatly intrigued. "When did you learn this? How did they die?"

"Several months ago I offered her to write to her family. She declined, which was a stroke of luck on my part, as I was soon to find that both her parents had since passed." Janus looked off to the side, feeling genuine pity. "Her father was not an old man, he was younger than me when I was still living...yet he went shortly after the death of her mother. His end was deemed as natural causes. He was a guardsman for Anvil, a good one at that, and was a respectable man. The city mourned his loss...Abigale Lynn had left just in time. Shortly after her disappearance, her mother was found dead by the Anvil docks. Suicide or murder - they do not know, it was not examined as closely as it should have been. Her father most likely could not bear the sadness and shame, as he would have been close to the investigation due to his post, and offered little help in resolution. His death followed hers, most likely brokenhearted and sick."

The Count's gaze then flicked back to Vicente, his eyes narrowed slightly, a peculiar gleam about them. "The cause of her mother's passing was inconclusive and still considered a mystery. The woman was a drunk, wracked with disease and charged several times for illicit public behavior. She had at one time been a healer at the chapel of Dibella. Something went sour and she was cast out...my point being, it is quite possible that someone wanted that woman dead. The Dark Brotherhood was never ruled out."

Vicente went quiet as he considered this. He had not been to Anvil for quite some time, yet something sounded or felt almost familiar about the entire ordeal. The passionate guardsmen of the Gold Coast... "May I ask the woman's name?"

The Count carefully watched Vicente's reaction, observing his features for signs of deception. "Tertia Biencourt."

Vicente gave him none, despite the sudden surmounting uneasiness. "No one I have ever brought my sword to."

"Well, I suppose that is one mystery solved. But now you see why she will not be going with you..." Janus continued to speak, going on about Abigale Lynn's servitude and how unwarranted and reckless it would be to allow her to leave him. Vicente half listened, far too distracted now by the new anxiety that he was tightly held by. He did speak truth - Tertia Biencourt did not die by his hand. However, he knew the one who had ended her and the realization turned his stomach.

Regardless of this new disconcerting information, Vicente still believed Abigale Lynn should be sheltered by his Family. He feared the Count would harm her in a fit of passionate anger, as the man knew not his own strength. In truth, he worried the Count would do much worse...perhaps even kill her. The man would surely crumble then and the entirety of the West Weald could very well follow in his destruction. It was a dangerous gamble if she stayed.

Vicente fully acknowledged his now deceitful agenda in regards to Abigale Lynn. Still, he felt her inevitable discomfort - should she be permitted to leave - would be for the greater good. She could hate him if she liked. Vicente would rather have her put in a state of temporary distress while safe than play chance with her life. Nevermind the obvious importance that would be lost with Skingrad should she perish, it was the mere thought of her being gone from Nirn that caused his sorrow. Abigale Lynn was far too dear to lose.

xxxx

It had been roughly an hour since the Count had me go to bathe and he still had yet to return. I knew I should have been thankful for this but it only made me feel more unsettled.

Not having wasted any time grabbing my belongings, I simply rushed to do as told, regretting it only when my bath had finished. I stood naked, wrapped only in a towel and watched the door, wondering what my best course of action was. For obvious reasons, I did not want to be nude. Nor did I want to be caught rifling through the Count's things and helping myself to the garments he had previously offered me. Sneaking down the hall to my room was also entirely out of the question. Even if I knew that I was utterly alone in Castle Skingrad, it was just something I could not do. I felt vulnerable in his manor while fully clothed, nevermind naked.

Regrettably, I knew all I could do was wait for him and thus I did just that. So much time had passed that my hair had begun to dry. I combed my fingers through it in an attempt to busy my hands and mind. Unfortunately, my thoughts could not be muted for long. I knew Vicente was currently speaking to the Count on my behalf and this frightened me. In the back of my soul, in a greatly vulnerable and feeble corner, I hoped Vicente would abandon his attempts. I could only imagine the Count's face if he knew that I had agreed to Vicente's plan. Or worse, if he knew that I had nearly begged Master Vicente to take me away with him. I was deathly afraid of what the Count would think, what he would say and what he would do, had he known that I made such a request.

When I thought too hard about the discussion down the hall, my every hair stood on end and my senses heightened dramatically. I jumped at each sound, soft droplets of water turned suddenly into violent entities. My own heartbeat a nuisance as its loud banging distorted my perception. I was a mess and could not cope.

Then the noise that I had been waiting for and dreading made itself known. The door to the Count's bedchamber emitted its usual low groan as it opened, followed shortly by the soft clunk and click as it was again closed. I held my breath and listened to the Count walk about his room. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he was pacing. My mind conjured an image of him from what felt like so long ago: a feather duster had stilled in my hand as I remained crouched down by a table. Having been knocking the dirt from crevices of intricate woodwork, I was suddenly alerted to the sound of restless marching. I remembered peeking over the tabletop, watching curiously as the Count walked back and forth by his desk.

The sight soon became a regular occurrence. Most of the time he paced with his arms folded across his chest, finger occasionally tapping his bicep. Other times his hands would be clasped behind his back. Then there was the occasion where he found something increasingly frustrating. He would mutter incoherently, fingers running through his hair, brow furrowed in thought - in this particular memory he did just that. He had caught me watching him and fixed me with a look, one that plainly dared me to judge his behavior. Of course, I quickly refocused on my work then, cheeks lightly flushed with embarrassment. His expression slowly softened some, turning more skeptical and mildly amused. I tried to hide further behind the table as he walked back to his chair. He again sat and resumed his paperwork, seemingly less irritated. After a small amount of time passed, I went to dismiss myself for the evening. As I bid him goodnight and walked to the door, I heard him call, almost amusedly, 'It's very rude to stare'.

He said those words to me long before this particular occasion. However, this time they were said teasingly and playfully, a stark contrast to the first time I had heard them. I found the memory bittersweet as it spurred his light jesting behavior. He was frightening and interesting, his odd and gentle humor eventually helped relax me. Soon I no longer fearfully looked around furniture to watch out for a vampire, but instead looked up with a nervous smile to my Count. Again, it seemed like so long ago now. It made my chest ache.

"Do you plan on living in there?" The Count asked loudly from his bedchamber, jarring me from my thoughts. He did not sound angry but I found myself fearfully shaking my head in response to him, despite him being in the other room.

"No," I answered as loudly as I could muster. "I...I forgot my things. I'm sorry." I heard the Count approach. His footsteps caused me to hold the towel a little tighter.

"I have something for you then. Open the door." I bit my lip and did as told, trying hard to still my trembling hand as I turned the lock. He eyed me as he stepped into the room, one of his white shirts in his hand. He offered it to me wordlessly but did not make any move to leave me to change. I turned away from him to dress, awkwardly trying to keep the towel wrapped around my body as I worked on pulling the tunic over my head. Once the cloth draped passed my thighs I deemed it safe to face him again. The Count came closer to me and reached into his pocket. He procured the two little diamond earrings that I had discarded in anger. He placed them in my hand and eyed me expectantly. "You will not remove these out of spite again." I only nodded and shakily reapplied them. Once fastened he brushed my hair back and beheld the gem. "You do the stones justice. Without you, they are lifeless rocks."

"T-thank you, Sir," I said awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to his sudden compliment. "I like them very much."

"Good. It is nice to hear some genuine honesty from you." He quipped, turning from me to exit the chamber. "Come to bed."

Why? I pleaded mentally. Dawn was still hours away. Sadly, there was nothing I could do. I only swallowed hard as I watched his back as he walked. Eventually, I took an uncertain step forward and followed him out.

At the opposite end of the Count's bedchamber, the fireplace crackled loudly. It was currently the only source of light in the room. The Count stood by it, leaning against the back of his sofa. He looked very regal and calm, which only served to disturb me further. "Vicente and his ward are again staying in the Castle, regardless of the generous lodging I have provided them in town. We agreed it would be impractical to send them out, far too early to do so. There would be a greater risk of detection." He began unfastening the little golden buttons on his vest. "We certainly wouldn't want such a thing, now would we? After all, Vicente is our friend...although I am beginning to wonder where his loyalties are more dearly vested. I would like to say the odds are in even distribution but after tonight I am not so sure. We had an interesting conversation, you see." His gaze locked onto me then as he shrugged off the garment, his movements and expression still light and composed. "Your thoughts?"

I swallowed hard, half realizing that I was nearly hugging the large poster at the foot of the Count's bed. My blood turned to ice at his inquiry. There was no doubt in my mind now that Vicente had spoken to the Count of his idea, leaving the Count greatly displeased. "Vicente is your friend." Again, I was unsure how to respond but tried my best to do so. "H-he is loyal to you."

"Not an outright lie but there is a tremble in your voice and truth." He remarked coldly, his gaze eating away at my nerves. His eyes held me there, the look steadily becoming threatening as my stillness followed his observation. I knew no matter what I said or did, the night would end badly for me. I was at a loss. I could not think of a way to defuse his irritation. His anger was so genuine, I wondered if it was truly justified. Perhaps I was in the wrong for wanting to go. "Oh yes, you know that I know what you are up to, Abigale Lynn...you want to leave me." Shaking my head, I gripped the post tighter and opened my mouth to speak but no words came. He made his way toward me, his steps still and cautious, as though he believed a sudden movement would cause me to run from him. I too questioned it. "I find this rather upsetting, don't you?"

I wanted to move away from him but feared his reaction. I was finally able to speak but my words were small and feeble, a guilty and random confession that I was reluctant to admit. "I am afraid of you."

He joined me and stood at the foot of the bed, his elbow resting on the opposite post, his knuckles by his mouth. For a moment he only stared. "Perhaps that is a good thing. Your fear will prevent you from acting on your exceedingly poor schemes. Now, I cannot help but wonder who devised this plan. So you will tell me...Who is our great mastermind: Vicente or you?"

I felt the Count was too close but still I dared not move. I genuinely wanted to be silent and not give myself away. However, I knew now from experience how poorly he tolerated my muteness. "I-I asked him." I heard myself whimper, then was unable to stop my speech entirely. "I'm so afraid of you, Sir. I do not want to go but I fear you. Y-you want to hurt me -"

"Hurt you? You think I want to hurt you?" He demanded. "I do not. On the contrary, I want your love. You wish to hurt me by denying me this. Unfortunately for you, you are owned. You will go nowhere. It is as I said earlier: I am rightfully entitled to you and your affection. More than that, I am rightfully entitled to your heart." My own words echoed then, ringing loudly in my ears, 'My heart is my own!'. Apparently, it bothered him greatly. The man who had everything could not be told no and he wanted more. He moved closer with dangerous slowness. "Give it to me. You do not want to leave, you care for me. I know you wish to love me, so do so. Give it to me."

His stare was wild. I was finally able to move away from the bed, my fear being the biggest motivator. "I..." It was physically painful for me to admit, knowing fully well how he would take my truth but it had to be said, as frightening as it was. I felt I owed him this, for he was right, even if he went about it wrong. "I cannot."

As expected, the Count rounded on me. "Damn you!" I recoiled and backed further away. He followed me persistently. "Why?! Why do you do this?! Do you wish to drive me mad? I will possess your heart even if I have to tear it from your chest!" His words paled me but I managed to keep moving, not taking my eyes off of him, not daring to turn away or outright run. He violently pushed past and knocked over furniture that I carefully avoided. I had always feared the thought of him coming at me as he was now. The horrible act manifest made me nauseous. "I've had enough! You know nothing of sorrow! You will go nowhere! Never! You belong with me! To me! Stay here until you rot!" I stumbled by one of the Count's chairs and gripped its armrest to keep myself from falling over. From there I could only stare at him. His words were cruel and full of hate, his face pulled into a deep snarl, fangs brandished and deadly.

For a moment I wondered if he would make good on his promise and feed on me right there or otherwise harm me. The thought of blood and pain made me quake. In spite of this, I was very tempted to part my hair for him as an act of submission. However, I did not, for I believed he would take the gesture as an insult. So I only stood rigid as he eyed me sinisterly. I wanted to vanish. My eyes began to burn with unshed tears. The Count was right, his rule final, I would go nowhere. But Vicente was right too, I was in danger and I should not press my luck, just obey. "I w-will do as told."

Slowly, the Count's expression softened but not by a great amount. "Do you remember when you first began to work for me?" He questioned and I found the easiness of his tone and still very visible fangs jarring. "Survival was the only important factor to you then. You cared not for happiness, only preservation. So long as you refuse my love, go back to that way of thinking. Resign yourself to sorrow, Abigale Lynn, for it is all you wish to know here." I said nothing but knew my expression to be pleading and desperate. I bit back my tears and looked away from him.

Another bout of silence passed. Eventually, he held a hand out for me and I quickly took it, not daring to question or waste a second doing so. He walked us back to his bed and bade me to sit down upon it. I did as instructed, feeling numb and frightened. He again proceeded to undress smoothly, as if nothing wrong occurred just moments ago. "I will not force myself upon you, I know you believe that to be my intent." The Count declared suddenly with an authoritarian air. "But I fully intend to carry on with our arrangement...consider the implications of that. You and I both know where it may lead." I nodded slowly to him and with shaking hands parted my hair.

Soon he was in the same state of dress as I. The Count took my trembling wrists, effectively stilling them and with gentle pressure coaxed me into lying down. I wanted to refuse but said nothing. I swallowed hard and suppressed a shiver as he settled behind me, my back to his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair and sighed deeply, sounding tired and emotionally depleted. I could not pity him. "I do not...I am sorry." He began then stopped, sounding agitated. He pulled me closer, his hand touching my cheek. "Before all that happened tonight, what have I done to keep you from loving me? I thought I had it once but you did not confess it to me as I did to you." His black mood had not gone from him but now it took on a more sullen tone. "I tried so hard to be good to you. When I told you of my affections you coldly disregarded them. You disregarded me. I hurt you then and I will forever be ashamed by it. The memory alone pains and repulses me." The Count paused and turned my head slightly so that I would look to him. "And yet you gave yourself to me. Why? Why do that if you do not love me?"

I vowed to be silent despite the danger it put me in. I thought of his threats and horrible words. I was far too hurt, my pains made me feel witless. I did not want to acknowledge my deep affection for the Count. It only served to make me feel senseless and naive. As cruel as he was, I cared for him still. Speaking with Vicente had helped me to understand the Count's anger more. It made nothing right but it helped me to realize where his violence stemmed from. No matter how hard I tried to hide, the Count knew of my affections. He knew how much I wanted to be with him in spite of it all. It hurt us both, I was hurting us both but I had no other choice. I could not be his for he was not mine.

"Will you not speak to me?" He implored, voice dropping lower and growing soft. Had I not known him I would have found his easily changeable ways surprising. I managed to shift my body away ever so slightly, no longer forced to look at him and tried to focus on nothing but the blankets in my hand. The Count sighed again and slid his hand to my neck. "You cannot brush me aside, Abigale Lynn. I intend to keep you. You belong here with me. Can we not mend our problems together? What good will come of you running away?" His sudden want to talk was cruel. Only after frightening and intimidating me did he feel guilt and see fit for a peaceful resolution. I knew it would not last nor did it truly matter. I would do as he wanted, there was no other option. "I know I cannot make you understand. The way I think is wrong, I accept this but I cannot deny what I feel for you. Perhaps if my heart was beating I could love you better. Perhaps my love is too great. It is overwhelming and all consuming. It is madness refined. You make me do things I don't understand, curse me with insatiable longing and passion. You think me cruel, maybe you are right too..." The Count stroked my cheek and drew nearer. "For I selfishly love you and want to keep you forever." And he again descended.

XXXX

She was a flickering flame. Changeable, controllable and easily manipulated. A little ember that when fanned roared to life, the fire consuming his soul. She was the heat and change his cold existence needed. She was his light and warmth. How dare she think of leaving him?

Her hair reminded him of this fire, he ran his hand through her soft tresses, mouth at her nape. For the third time that evening he pierced her tender flesh with his fangs. She let out a strangled, high-pitched cry and gripped the bedsheet. Her warm and sweet blood overcame him. He held her tighter and drank with greed. Their current position let him view her face as it contorted with pain. She did not weep but whimpered and moaned. Janus had no doubts that it hurt more than usual. Vicente had healed her but a vampire's restoration magic could only go so far on a mortal.

The thought of his friend touching his Abigale Lynn caused him to bite down with unneeded pressure. She gasped loudly, her body trying to jerk away from him but he kept her firmly pinned. As his hunger waned bodily desires came forth in its stead and her passions quickly fell in sync with his. Regardless of the pain, she relaxed into him, her warmth spreading to his chest. He could hear her heart so loudly as it hammered away, the sound so powerful it was nearly overwhelming to his senses. Her breaths came out short and sharp, cutting out against the sound of her heart, equally loud and beautiful.

Janus' own cruelty played out in his mind despite the pleasurable embrace. He could not stop himself, she was infuriating. They had happiness for a moment in time. They could have it again. He knew she cared for him, maybe even loved him but she refused these feelings. He did not understand her denial. He was the married one, should he not feel more guilt? Unfortunately, he believed Vicente to be right about one thing, as a small part of him did feel that he was committing a sin. It was not lying with Abigale Lynn that made him feel this way but his great love for her. Deep down he was frightened by it and did not know how to correctly present his feelings. He had tried once and was so coldly dismissed that he had yet to recover from the blow. Janus Hassildor was a proud man but he could not deny his own insecurities. Rona's complete withdrawal from his life and love created that vulnerability.

The Count had tried so hard for so long to sway the girl in his arms. He tried to be good and gentle. He wanted her comfortable. He had sought her friendship and then more. For so long he had watched her, followed her, thought and dreamt of her. But only when he stopped being kind and turned violent did he get her attention. Shortly after he attacked her she was in his arms, welcoming and loving. She accepted him then. It was confusing.

Abigale Lynn reached behind her and worked her fingers in his hair. He withdrew his fangs as she shifted against him. He had been her first, she herself had told him this and he believed her. Despite her ability to move her hips in the most mind-numbing and tantalizing way he had ever known, he knew she spoke the truth. It was in her eyes, curiously wandering fingers and the feel of her body. Everything was new and wonderful. Still, she seemed to learn remarkably fast and was willing to bear down and accept the inevitable discomfort for her pleasurable tradeoff. It was something he certainly had never encountered.

Indeed, she was infuriating. She provoked him in ways he had never imagined, toyed with nerves he did not know he possessed. As she did now, moving into him with abandon. Moments ago she would not speak to him and yet now she pulled him closer. It was the bite, he told himself, but her desperation for his touch was maddening. She had refused him earlier and greatly humiliated him by it. Regardless of her earlier rejection, he would gladly accept any offering she presented him with. It was as he had said: madness refined.

She twisted in his arms and grabbed him. The bite's effect was always strong on her but this was different. She clutched at his shirt, expression still pained and kissed him heatedly. Eventually, her arms went around his neck and she removed her mouth from his, burying her face in his chest. He so missed the feeling of her clinging to him. Janus was quick to again hold her tightly as to keep her from pulling away. He was surprised that she did not. He only held her there and ran his hands up and down her back. Shortly after she began to tremble, then whimper and sob. The Count sighed somberly, the magic of the bite was gone.

"I will not hurt you, Abigale Lynn." He said awkwardly, unsure of how to reassure the woman he had minutes ago threatened. He was embarrassed by his anger, ashamed of the way he spoke to her and still at odds with their earlier 'quarrel'. His violence was wrong, his thoughts were monstrous but he loved her. He wanted to love her so desperately. The Count wished he could get a hold on his temper...it seemed impossible.

"But you are." She countered softly, still holding him. He was shocked that she spoke. "It hurts so much."

His shirt grew damp from her tears. He pulled her away from his body slightly to look at her. She was so sad and ever hopeless. "Tell me how to stop it then. Tell me how to make it better again. If you would -"

"Do not." She begged and covered her face. "Please do not."

"Why will you not let me? Why can we not be together? I want your love, we do not have to lie together until you think it right. I will wait. Just open your heart to me again, please."

"I can't. No."

Janus sat up angrily. "Why not? Why 'can't' you? Who are you protecting? Who are we hurting besides one another?"

Abigale Lynn too sat up and glared, made brave by her own conflicting feelings and jeopardized morals. "Your wife!" Her lip trembled, her face flushed. She regretted speaking out, Janus could tell. Her expression quickly reverted to fear as she inched away from him. "I-I'm sorry."

He felt his face slowly twist into a scowl. "My wife chose to abandon me," He said coldly. "Now I choose to love someone else. My marriage is done."

She moved even further away and gave a timid shake of her head. "...It is not, she is still here, you care for her. This is wrong, Sir, so wrong." Abigale Lynn had her head turned away from him, looking meek and small as she tried to discreetly distance herself more. "I respect you too much. I-I must respect the Countess too. Marriage is sacred, no matter how bitter or angry it makes you. You may hate me...I think you might already. But you are forcing me between you both and it is torture."

He grabbed her then but kept his grip gentle. She was speaking to him, finally explaining her reasoning and refusal. He would not let her slip away to hide. "Torture for you?" He questioned, sounding perhaps too firm. He wanted her to elaborate. He needed to understand. Still...her words made him spiteful because they were true. Of course, he did not hate her in the least but all else she said made his stomach twist. His anger rose but a greater part of him was ashamed.

"Yes, Sir. H-how can you ask me to open my heart to you when you are not mine?" The Count opened his mouth to speak but before he could react she again started to sob. "You are not mine! I cannot love you! It hurts and I am afraid. I want to love you and make you happy but I can't, Sir. Nothing you can say will change this. You are so cold and cruel to me now but I will not bring any more pain to your soul. You are not mine. I cannot be yours. A-and now you will surely kill me!"

The Count only stared, his gaze softening as her words sank in. Why did she not tell him of these feelings sooner? So much arguing could have been avoided if she had just opened her mouth and spoke to him. What she said made sense and he felt sheepish for assuming she never really cared for him in the first place. Janus felt greatly wrong and wronged as he watched the woman he loved confess her feelings and fears. She thought he would kill her, she truly did. She held her feelings inside because she was afraid of his reaction. It made him sick with himself. Was he angry? Yes. He felt their entire situation unjust and Abigale Lynn was not the wedge she believed herself to be. However, he understood why she thought it. He also gathered why he should have kept his desires secret. He should have waited and told her of Rona first.

Janus believed that the only way he gained the courage to confess his secret was by lying with Abigale Lynn. Truly, only after being with her did he feel that he could do such a thing. All was wrong now but they knew of each other's feelings. It was morbid and tense but it may have been the only way they could end up together at all. With that in mind, he could not bring himself to regret his decision. But now, with all said and done, he no longer knew how to fix any of it. In his misguided fury, he had been recklessly cruel. Abigale Lynn was still crying, deathly afraid and awaiting her end at his side in his bed. It more than pained him. He was appalled.

Janus went to hold her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She stared at him, eyes wide and frightened. He had no words for comfort and so offered none. Instead, he again went to embrace her. After some gentle coaxing, she settled down beside him. She slowly began to calm but he saw how much of a mess he had made her. "What must I do?" He murmured into her hair to himself.

He loved his Abigale Lynn. He loved her strangeness and curious gaze. He loved how she hummed mindlessly as she flitted about his halls and when she bit her beautiful lips. He loved when her little hand was in his and how her smile changed her face. He loved her blush and how she toyed with her hair in thought. He loved her laugh, her compassion and her genuine interest in anything and everything. Most of all Janus loved how she looked at him. Her eyes shown genuine happiness to his company. All of this he had overlooked in his anger. Now it may be gone from him. She was afraid of him and he told her it was a good thing. It was abhorrent. No words could make this better. He did not know if he could aptly express his sorrow...nor could he promise that he would not be cruel to her still.

Everything was changing. His mind was in an uproar. He was torturing the one he loved and he too feared for her safety now.

'Your mind is wounded,'

'You need to mourn,'

'You will resent her for interfering, I believe a part of you already does,'

"What must I do?" He said again in despair. Abigale Lynn did not speak to him. Janus knew the unfortunate truth, he knew what had to be done but he did not want to do it. His inner spoiled nature came to surface and he clung to her tightly. No. He thought while strongly clinging to the still trembling girl. Absolutely not. No. Never. But her cries and fears were eating away at him. They were all justified and it was his fault. Now she needed time away from him to heal...and he needed time away to mourn. The realization angered him - all the more reason to do the 'right' thing.

With great effort, the Count swallowed down his fury. He closed his eyes and kissed the back of her head. His mind was made up and his decision made him ill. But he loved her. He loved her so much and would do anything for her love and happiness. Presently, he was ruining all and he feared he would drag her down with his destructive nature. "I love you, Abigale Lynn. You are mine forever...no matter what, do not forget that. No matter where you go, do not forget it." She did not react, she did not speak. The Count doubted that she heard him over her sorrow.

Surprisingly shortly after, she fell asleep in his arms. Janus only held her there, eventually propping himself up to look at her and absorb her every feature. He stroked her hair and cheek, kissed her knuckles and drank her in. He was to entrust his delicate love to his friend of almost half a century. It did not sit well. He could not think of it. It simply was.

xxxx

Somewhere nearby, a clock loudly chimed eight. I had never been late for work before and I hoped that the Count would not be too displeased with me.

The Castle was crooked and I half wondered why. I told myself that it was normal, knowing full well that it was not, and hurried down the tilted corridors.

Once I entered the manor's throne room I stopped. The long, heavy tapestries that climbed the nearly endlessly high ceilings were moving. I blinked and looked closer, soon to discover that they were not moving but flowing. Flowing crimson. I touched the red that had once been cloth only to remove my hand and stare at my stained fingers. Silent and unnaturally slow, the scarlet liquid spilled onto the floor, taking the form of the Count's red carpets. Blood, I knew, but could not bring myself to linger and look. Again, the clock chimed and I had to move.

Careful to not step into the running floors, I kept my feet on stone and moved at a brisk pace. But then my step faltered.

Somewhere in the Count's manor, I heard the strangest of sounds. It was beautiful and eerie. It was sharp in pitch, a precise 'twang' that went remarkably high and low. It rattled and clipped, crescendoed, halted and commenced with baffling fluidity.

It was art. It was music. I had to find it.

I followed the sound curiously until I came across its source. The door to the room was ajar, a dim orange light billowing from the crack. I peeked in to see the silhouette of someone playing the Count's harpsichord. All my time in Castle Skingrad, he had yet to touch the instrument, I knew it was not him. Still curious, I chewed my lip and cautiously opened the door.

I stood in the dark room, the music loudly echoing and stared in shock at the night sky before me. A window. An infinitely starry sky, the rolling hills and dense forests beneath it, all blanketed in darkness. A beautiful cloudless night. Windows? Several of them lined the stone walls in this particular chamber of the Count's manor. But I knew this room to have none. I only gaped, music momentarily forgotten. "T-that is not safe for him..." I said in awe and confusion as I now hesitated venturing forth further into the room. Out of all the strangeness I had thus far seen and heard, it was this that chilled me.

The instrument was struck angrily then, almost demanding my attention. I obliged and finally turned to view the musician only to have my body freeze in shock upon doing so.

Slender, ringed fingers continued to glide over and press keys with amazing swiftness. Her sleeves were large and dragging, a bell-like shape, the color of wine and trimmed with gold. Her hair was a rich brown in color and thick. It was neatly set into a long plait down her back, hanging just off of the stool she sat upon to play.

Although her back was to me, I felt carefully watched. I gulped, I was a trespasser here and needed to leave. "I-I'm sorry. I'll go."

'S-sorry, so sorry.' I paled at the echo of my own cry. The music continued to play, growing curious. 'My fault. I am so sorry.'

'Abigale Lynn,' I jumped, feeling the Count's cold hand on my shoulder, only to find that he was not there.

The music did not stop but the woman spoke, her voice commanding yet feminine, knowing and wise. Firm. "He speaks your name with passion." She made a noise, a scoff and a laugh mixed. "Abigale Lynn." She tested my name. "Abigale Lynn...Hello, little Abigale Lynn." Only then did the music cease. I inhaled shakily and watched her rise. Her actions were elegant and slow.

She faced me then, very tall and very thin but not in the slightest bit fragile. She was a woman of stone, oddly fitting as it was something I had once confused her for. Her gown was exquisite but old in fashion. She had a neckless around her wrist which she was quick to unwind and toy with. I recognized it then as an amulet of Zenithar. She wordlessly counted its beads. I wrung my hands. "I should not be here-"

"Be here? Where is here?" She asked teasingly with unmistakable sharpness. But then she was suddenly before me, glaring at me, inches away from my nose. "My bed?" I recoiled but her irritation was gone as quickly as it came, her expression turned regretful. She did not move away, only continued to observe me as I did her. Her eyes were brown, framed with soft dark lashes. Her skin was tanned with an underlining olive tone. A small band of freckles was on her high cheeks and proud nose. Her skin was lightly touched with age. I thought she was beautiful but shame made me avoid looking at her for long.

"There, now." She sighed and gently took my face in both hands, forcing me to look up to her again. "You are lovely..." She said while she brushed some of my hair out of my face. "And young. Quite young." She laughed sadly. "Of course you would be. Leave it to Janus to chase a child. You poor dear. He is not known for his consideration." She continued to stare at me and I found myself capable of nothing but staring back. Her expression turned empathetic. "I am sorry for his violence, it is in part my doing. I have turned him bitter. But not all the blame is mine. The blood-curse depraves even the sweetest of hearts."

She moved away from me then, walking small circles around me. I did not feel threatened but inspected. "I have known of his affections for some time. I was wrongly jealous. I see I have no place to hold such a sentiment any longer." She stopped before me, looking sad. "No. I have no place to be. I have made my choice as you have made yours. Although there is something you have yet to realize. I believe you should know of it for...for future situations. I would like to show you, provided you allow me a small favor of you later." I only nodded, knowing that I owed her that much. "Janus is a good man, poorly tempered but good. However," she stood beside me, pointing to the window, expression pained. "I have done great damage to him."

I looked out the window and watched through a haze of red. County Skingrad contorted and changed as an image of the Castle's interior took shape. I saw the Count among other figures in the very chamber I was in now. He was distorted and dark, they all were, appearing more as silhouettes and shadows than people. I heard better than I saw but even then everything that came to my senses was dark and twisted. The Count's voice was pained, greatly pained as he shouted. An animalistic anguish that disturbed me. I felt I was witnessing something I should not. This was something I did not want to see. 'Why?! Rona why?!' He was bloodied and shaking, something so very small and swaddled was in his hands. The way he eyed the bundle made me I feel ill. 'How could you?! A little boy...my boy.'

The Countess of Skingrad sat quietly, her face was clear and impassive. 'He was without sin. He goes to the Gods now and I will go with him. I will be at peace with my child.'

'You foul witch...' He sobbed, tearing his eyes from the cloth to stare at her. The look was frightening. His face was near covered in blood, mostly by his own tears. 'Evil...rotten. Putrid. There is no peace for you...Your Gods will spit you out!' His gaze fell, once again set mournfully on the swaddling in his hands. The Count then left the room holding the bundle in his arms. Only when he was gone did the Countess too weep.

The vision faded into nothing and I was left cold from it. "W-why did you...why did you show me this?"

"In time you will understand." The Countess of Skingrad said somberly as she walked in front of me again. Her cheeks were wet with mortal tears. "It pains me. I could not carry on knowing that I would watch all that I loved die. Now, I want that favor..." I waited for her to ask it, confused as she came closer.

In my delirium, I only watched on as she placed her hand against my belly. "A-ask anything of me. What is needed? I will do my best to please you."

She ignored my words. "For so long I thought it was him, you know. I believed him to be like his mother and incapable. To know that it was me, even with all time past is humbling and sad. You are only a girl, it is unfair." She stared quizzically. "I hope for your sake that you are stronger than me. You are good. Too good, I think. It troubles your being." Her words sounded far off. I began to register how quickly paced this world was. "I doubt you will remember me. I am only able to be before you due to his magic and life. So before we are done, I thank you. I cannot reach him in his dreams, despite my best efforts. Our curse alters me. It only hurts him." Her expression was dark and sad. "Feeling any part of my husband is comforting. A blessing from the Divine. Again, I thank you. I am not deserving of such a gift. I know you will take care of them but know you also must grow and live. When you are able, please take care of my husband. He is so grieved and needs time. Give him that time and then give him your love."

Her hand fell from me then. The harpsichord again began to play, its seat vacant. The Countess of Skingrad was gone.

XXXX

The Count had redressed and stood before the door to the Blue Room. It was physically taxing to knock upon it but he managed. The door was quick to open, a rather peeved looking Vicente stood with his arms folded in irritation. His annoyance faltered slightly once he saw the Count's face. At first, Janus said no words. He only looked off to the side in anger, divided in his motives.

Finally, when he spoke, it was firm. A question formed into a command. "You will keep her safe."

Author's Notes: So, yeah, I went there...XD I have been waiting to go there! Did it go over anyones head? I doubt it. Only reviews will tell! XD