I fell into a new routine with the Volturi fairly easily. The one thing that I still cannot get used to is living in a drafty old castle, if this is what living can be called. My blood feels like a frozen river. I stand in front of the flaming hearth in the kitchen and still I am cold. I feel as if I am standing before Death's door. Perhaps I am, considering I inhabit a large castle with a coven of vampire royalty, who skirt around in red robes as if they are walking upon water.
I avoid the entrance of the castle villa where there sits a large throne, because I can still hear my mother's screams as the trade of my new fate was made. Destiny orchestrated me to be here and now I am on my own. I don't remember much from that day, honestly, I block it out like a brick wall. My mother's screams though always find their way to me and I close my eyes at the pang of pain in my chest. I am not worthy of such love.
I turn around from the frigid kitchen wrapping my red cloak around me, the only thing warm about this cloak is the colour, it feels cozy and safe the complete opposite of Jane's eyes looking at me with inspired obsession.
"You finished then," she asks me in a sweet voice, as if I am holding nectar in my hand and she wants me to share.
"Yes, I did," I reply, trying not to think about the large dusty book that made my nose sneeze goo.
"What did you think?" she pries, as she glides to the large table in the kitchen and pulls out a chair.
I don't know why a place inhabited by vampires has a kitchen, it's not like they eat food or anything. This is my favourite place in the castle because in the empty stone expanse I can find solitude.
"It was disturbing. As most creature stories are; incubuses and succubuses rape and vampires murder," the thought of the topic of demons preying upon sleeping humans for procreation makes me sick and honestly terrified.
"It's thirst all the same," Jane states with a shrug.
"You're wrong," I bite.
Jane looks up at me with dead eyes gleaming and there is a proud smirk spreading on her pale lips. "You're angry, good. Judging by the hour, it's time for fencing lessons."
I roll my eyes and fight a smile. I enjoy fencing lessons. It's old and timeless and it is invigorating and strategic. Fencing lessons are scheduled in the ballroom under a dome ceiling painted with both fire and light showcasing an eternal battle between angels and demons. The winged deities hold orbs of light while the demons are perfectly ethereal they have dark regal wings and they fly with their pale arms devouring embers with an embrace and fangs bared like pearled gates.
"So romantic," my inner demon purrs and I snort.
"You wouldn't know romance like an angel wouldn't know its own fart," I breathe in a hushed whisper. The sound of a cloak whipping in the cool hair breaks me from saying more as the sound of my clacking feet on the marble floor becomes too loud for my sensitive ears and makes me wince. I breathe deep breaths of silence and orient myself around the grand space feigning my pain, I feel as if I am befalling into further darkness and the only light is that of the chandelier shining upon a face of a crowned demon. A vampire in truth.
I shiver at the imposing stance of Caius who is staring at me and studying every movement. He is standing under a portrait of Aro holding a sword, the narcissist of the coven I swear the vampire king himself comes in here at the quiet hours and stares at it. The things these creatures do with eternal life. I can feel Caius's crimson gaze, I look up at him and imagine in his human life his eyes were once a beautiful blue like that of the sky. His long blond hair is in a ponytail. To my eyes he is a demon prince and I straighten my back preparing for battle because I am neither an angel or demon 'I am a demigod…so ha,' I think with a smirk knowing Caius cannot read me because he is not gifted with monster traits.
"Not like you," my inner demon praises.
"Shut up!" I grit through my clamped jaw.
Unfortunately Caius has heard me, "Not a very polite greeting for a guest amongst our coven," he tells me with a smirk.
"All sparring begins with banter of some sort, so I was only making small talk," I reply with a sweet smile, or what I think a sweet smile looks like if it could loo...you know what never mind.
Caius looks down at me and a haughty chuckle bubbles from his throat, he removes his red cloak and bows; I bow back familiar with the silent routine. The thin silver blades crash and jab together pinging sounds dance with echoes across the ornate room of emptiness. I am smaller in size then Caius obviously and being centuries younger then him, agility is my fighting partner. I duck and hit, stabbing Caius in the knee knowing his marble skin will not break. I smirk at the lesson I am playing with a vampire and Olympic arena rules are off the table and yet technique is propriety. I shuffle my feet.
"Relax your arm," he tells me with his deep tenor.
"Your foot work has improved," he praises.
I smirk underneath my mask and continue lunging towards him entirely on the offensive. With quick parrys and quick wrists Caius defends himself from my attacks. I huff and can feel the sweat of frustration fall down my face and then I pick up on something an emotion that can only be pride wafting from my opponent like a perfume. It doesn't matter if it is pride for himself or for me it is there all the same and a light inside of me glows. I am so affected by it that I become distracted and Caius has jabbed me in the chest, hard enough to leave a bruise.
"Why did you stop?" he asks with his épée by his side.
I remove my mask and shrug before I can even think of the words they fall out of my mouth like cards, "Why are you proud?"
Caius raises his blond eyebrows at me and I shrink at his intense gaze, "I was merely breaking through your defences. Knowing your opponent's weakness makes you stronger."
"Being an empath isn't a weakness," I tell him with a hard stare.
He gives me an annoying smile, "In your case it is, because you are so obvious about it. I don't need to have powers to read you Hazel. Your body language is like an open book and your stance became sloppy, so I took an opening while you were being affected by my pride. Which it was because no one else can parry and riposte against me as you do."
My chest puffs on its own accord up with pride I look at him with a proud smirk and an unfamiliar lightness glows inside of me.
Caius releases a rare laugh, "Now do you want to continue sparring or are you too hungry because your eyes are red. We have been sparring for an hour or so."
At his words of lunch my stomach rumbles.
"Off you go then and for tomorrow, be on the ball."
"Of my feet," I finish.
"Quite," he says with his arms crossed.
I look forward to the day when we will be using real swords, the sharp sound of clanging blades echoes in my ears as I walk down the long corridor to the courtyard. I am experiencing the perfect white noise a hush falls over my mind. My eyes adjust to the bright grey light of the outside world. I reach for my turquoise bicycle and ride.
The wind whips in my hair and I am free. Free to run, free to fly, free…alone.
I careen down the winding Tuscan roads of Volterra and cannot absolve the blissful smile on my face. There is something here where the wildness inside of me is caressed.
I smile as I reach my favourite lunch spot I come here everyday for tagliatelle al tartufo, the red banner of the restaurant with gold writing flaps in a warm wind as if it is waving to me in greeting, and I don't care how self-centred that thought is.
"Buon pomeriggio Hazel," a women greets as she rushes through the glass door and two flour encrusted hands grab my face and kisses both of my cheeks. I can smell the butter on her curly caramel strands of hair.
I cannot prevent the laugh that springs forth her genuine nature is contagious.
"Buon pomeriggio Valentina," I greet and before I can say anymore my arms are full with two large containers.
"Per pranzo e cena," she tells me with such gentleness I can only bow my head in acceptance. My eyes land on my black shoes against the light pavement and I watch her wipe her calloused hands on the white apron covering her plump figure.
She reminds me of a character in an old story a caretaker of everyone in her village. She doesn't need to be a character in a story, she already is one in mine. And a dear dear one. She looks down at me with such softness in her brown gaze and I can see the crow's feet beside her narrow eyes where deep sorrow swims. I remind her of someone and I can only be comforted.
"Grazie," I speak in a soft voice willing my voice not to crack.
Valentina's response is mute as she rubs my chin and says, "A domani uccellino."
I smile at the analogy preferring to be called little bird then sapling and I ignore the sharp pang of pain as I think of my mother. I nod back and put the cartons of food in my basket and ride to my favourite lunch spot under a poplar tree overlooking a horizon of olive trees surrounding the vampire villa castle. Close enough to be far away and far away enough that my presence is not noticed.
I almost moan at the first bite of the earthy notes resting upon my palette. There is nothing in comparison to authentic Italian food that can only be experienced in Italy. I lick my lips my body craves for a unique taste and I sigh knowing I have to feed the monster that is me. I finger the ruby ring upon my middle finger and open the hidden clasp. I can feel my heart dancing with expectation to the secret I carry and inside the ring's cavity I drop three drops of blood and all is satisfied.
Time doesn't exist here, well it does, it is different, sometimes I feel as if I am frozen. I feel frozen right now with a full stomach at least while I watch Aro pacing in front of me as he blabbers on about politics. With his killing hands behind his black, he did kill his sister after all. I am learning about monster politics, specifically creature politics. A lesson of no relations with werewolves or as they are called here Children of the Moon.
I sigh and scratch the antique mahogany table with my fingernail. I jump as a pale hands slam down in front of me and veil my surprise with indifference. "What is the third clause of the treaty between vampires and werewolves?" Aro inquires and I can feel his frustration coming at me in irate waves his red eyes bore into my burgundy ones and I drawl out in bored tone likes a wolf's shaking jowl.
"According to you, there is no clause or even treaty. Children of the Moon are to be eradicated no matter the circumstance. However, what if instead we try to co-exist. Thanks to vampires werewolves are practically extinct in Europe. I think it would be favourable to be aware of their indifference. Werewolves honour their bond with their alpha. Although, sometimes in tragic situations when the bond is not set between the alpha then the wolf stalks the world in solitude. Searching for a whisper that is too difficult to find. That is when the lay lines between werewolves and vampires get crossed because they are looking for a bond. If a werewolf finds a vampire coven. They are given a minor dose of wolfsbane which will make them uncomfortable before their alpha can find them. Until then, the wolf will have to live with the stench of vampires."
Aro raises his dark eyebrows at his sculpted features on his small round face enlighten with surprise, I am too bored with this violent species to care so I continue to pick at the glossy wood, "That was quite a poetic translation from a few words."
"Yes, well the feeling is the same isn't?" I reply.
"Are you telling me, you have empathetic abilities towards werewolves?" Aro asks, as his fingers grip his chin in a stance of strategic pondering.
I am too exhausted to see the signs and I sigh, "I have empathy for everything and everyone. Can I go now?"
In a silent gesture of regality he shows me the open door and I go to the poplar tree for a comforting meal of spaghetti and meatballs before I see Athendora for my last lesson of the day. Music lessons.
Music lessons occur in my second favourite part of the house I affectionately have dubbed The Gothic Tower. It is a round room inside one of the turrets on the East side of the villa and the room is covered in black satin. There are large almost cathedral stained glass windows that are back lighted by the rising moon on a clear night, which is not tonight. As I climb the river of cascading stone stairs up, up, up, I can hear the misting tune of Athendora plucking her harp.
Athendora is one of the most beautiful monsters my young eyes have ever seen. She is Caius's mate and he has chosen well. I reach the large wooden door and take a few calming breaths so Athendora does not feel my excitement.
I open the door and see her sitting on the right side of the room atop silken sheets of night. Wearing a dark blue dress and her long pale fingers float upon heavenly strings. Her eyes are closed in bliss and her aristocratic features are enchanted with radiance. I am done for and I swallow a gulp that disappears into a well of desire.
"Good evening Hazel," her melodic voice greets.
My mouth is so dry I swallow and nod in greeting.
"Were Aro's lessons that boring. I can't have you be exhausted Hazel. There have been too many missed keys lately, I am starting to think that perhaps the piano is not the right instrument for you. Perhaps the violin…" she intones with such a royal air it is like listening to a queen speak.
"No," I interrupt knowing very well the risk of doing so and I can feel her raising one blond eyebrow at me in a disapproving glare.
"No violin, please. I have been practicing," I try to defend while my stomach is trilling with flustered birds out of their cage.
Athendora stops her rhythmic strumming and tuts at me, her floral fragrance of old invades my nose like an army of flowers and I have to stare at the expanse of outside to gather my inflamed hormones which are jumping around inside of me like frogs in summer heat.
She glides beside me and sits on the ebony piano bench facing the stone wall. "Show me then," she breathes with a challenging smirk.
I stretch my fingers one by one and steel my features as if they are behind a fencing mask. I focus on my complete dissatisfaction of the violin and play the piano to the best of my abilities, trusting in the skill of my long fingers.
I play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata until the very end. When the keys go silent after I have casted my fingers off the spell of music, I feel an angelic sigh from beside me and I my cheeks inflame with aliveness of heat.
"You have improved," Athendora breathes and brushes her long blonde hair from her narrow shoulder.
I slump my shoulders in victory and breathe a breath of satisfaction. I can hear Athendora shifting through papers and I see the language of music enter my line of sight.
"Clair de Lune," I observe aloud, I can feel my my brows furrow and my lips pout in puzzlement.
"It's for the delegation," Athendora reveals.
I am too confused and distracted when the door opens and Caius walks in.
"The delegation?" I ask.
"Yes," Caius answers. "The constituents ball, amongst covens all over Europe…"
"Someone's getting executed," I realize.
"A bittersweet affair, I'm afraid," Athendora sighs.
I can only nod, they are monsters through and through. "And, you want me to play, Clair de Lune," I clarify.
"Yes, for the wolf's last waltz," Athendora speaks with a scheming smile.
And pieces of a puzzle start to fall into place. I don't want to be dismissed I know I am when the dead mates start to kiss saluting their cursed life. I gag with injustice and find my way to my room my sanctuary for the first month of my life amongst dead royalty. I looked forward to befriending a ghost, alas, that never happened. I didn't leave this room for the first four weeks of being on this new land, I found a secret passageway through my closet where I could escape Destiny's plotting, it seems though…
I live with killers mother…I start to write knowing these small words with a weight of secrets will never be sent.