I have decided to do all different POV's from as many characters as I can so I hope you all like it that way.
The slowly passing time was the worst part of Lillith's recovery. But in those three months, she was frequently visited by Lord Vespacelli. She never spoke a word to him even if she was asked a question. Not intending to be rude, she just didn't feel as if it were important. He was leaving in two months time back to the dreary city of Bartelona to resume a life of luxury and ease. She shivered quite often at the thought of living in such a place where the sun never shone down. Yes, it was lush and full of nature, surrounded by eerie woods—but it was so dark. How could one live in such a place and attain happiness? Lillith's eyes didn't leave her window slit after that noticing how every sunny day passed while she was stuck inside.
Her mind began to then travel down a path she had sworn to never think about—Lord Vespacelli. He—above all others—stuck out to her. And it seemed that all of the men that came from Bartelona had red eyes and translucent skin. Pridora should have locked them out, the townsfolk having orders to kill them for their ghostly appearance. Yet here, they were revered almost as if they were ordered to do so. Lilly's father was in command of the town being almost a mayor in a sense. They had the nicest house—which was saying a lot even for the drab appearance it held to outsiders—and the most livestock. So why didn't they kill these strangers?
But most of all, why wasn't she afraid of them? Lord Vespacelli did hold a sense of frightening awe to her, but she wasn't afraid of him. Even as she stole scenes from him while he spoke to her mother she was not weary of his presence. But the room always felt colder with him in it, like he was a mound of snow that mounted the far off peeks of mountains. His features didn't help much either. There was no mistaking he was a man, his chin chiseled, his pointed nose perfectly molded, his long black flaxen hair laying straight just past the shoulders. He was void of any warm, pink skin. In fact, he looked more like a statue of granite than he did a real person. Buut it was his eyes that haunted her and for brief moments she swore she saw blue in them—blue that only the night's ocean could create. It was like this for months, this endless observing of a man she knew she would never see again.
Finally the day came when she was healed and every moment of that day was spent outside. Liam returned from a trip with their father and together they tumbled about the gardens. Yet, she was aware that Liam's attitude had worsened. He didn't crack jokes, didn't insult her or tease. Anything she said that might have been to rough for normal ears, he didn't correct. It was like Lilly had all power—she could get away with anything.
On the fourth day of her recovery, Pridora called her inside the house where she was surprised to find both parents in the same room. This was a rarity and at once she knew what the cause was. They had found a suitable match for her in the village. Her heart warmed somewhat, wondering who it could be. She knew almost all of the men older than her that would make fine husbands and her anxiety spiked at which one it could be.
"Lilly, daughter, my angel…" Her father began. Why did he look so weary? And why was Pridora's back facing her. Had there been a death instead? "Come closer to me."
She did as she was asked, taking a seat at her father's feet. She placed her head on his knee, looking up sweetly at him. He watched her with such a depression she had never seen in his eyes. Surely, his choice in marriage for her wasn't that bad.
"Your mother and I have decided on a suitable match for you."
She smiled inhaling the wondrous hopes of remaining with the village that she knew so well. She could see Pridora and Liam, and of course Maleksi. She could watch them grow and play. She could be there and help Liam's new bride get settled when he finally chose one. There were so many good things to this that she couldn't possibly see anything wrong with marrying a man from town. "And who is he?" Lilly was tired of waiting, her impatience at an all-time high.
"A man who I know shall give you an existence of luxury." She noticed he didn't say life. But, ignoring that small detail, she allowed letting her ears listen to his next words. "You shall be taken care of, more so than you are here. And he is very fond of you."
"Father, you're stalling." She beamed up at him having narrowed down to two choices. Next to her father, there were only two others who could afford a leisurely life if not profitable. "I always knew you would pick Alberto or Marcellus. I always knew somehow…" Lilly sighed contentedly not caring which one he had picked for her. She would be near her family—that was all that mattered.
"They won't suit you."
"Of course they will. They are fine men."
"But they are not your destiny."
"What is destiny but a way to explain odd occurrences?"
"No, Lillith. You're not listening to what I'm telling you."
She paused; worry striking for the first time in her veins. "Then…if it is not them…who?"
There was a small knock on the door with a maid rushing in to display a visitor. Lord Vespacelli stepped in as if on air, his eyes only on Lilly. And that was when she believed she would surely die.
Standing, she bowed as best as she could to their visitor leaving her eyes on the floor. Lilly turned slowly to her father, holding her chin up after a moment to make it seem like she was accepting their will. "You have always known what is best for me, father, and therefore I rejoice in the choice of my intended. Thanks be to thee." With that, she bowed once again. Excusing herself with a smile that seemed to show her acceptance she was free from the room. Her feet traveled as far as the woods where she stopped peering into them without really seeing. She would have to keep a pretense up to make sure her parents were happy. Lilly knew that if she—at any point until her marriage—showed sadness, they would be heartbroken. She had to endure for them, be strong. This childish let down and pouting would do no one any good.
Bartelona wasn't as bad as all that. She could go there and be happy, surely. And there had to be some women with whom she could relate. Lilly would go and be kind, be loving, pretend to care. There were lots of trees and barely any wind. Maybe there she could learn to be a lady and invite Pridora over to see her in her new state. Lord Vespacelli seemed like an amiable man. No one disliked his company and what he had to say was weighed with knowledge and an understanding of the world that no one had.
If this was true, then why did she feel like her life was ending? Like this would be her last month of mortal existence before she ventured off into a realm that she knew little about? Bartelona was almost its own country with different rules and regulations. The Italian Empire ignored it most of the time almost as if it were plagued with a disease.
Was it plagued with disease? That could be the cause of their red eyes and pale skin. But these people were beautiful, surely it wasn't that. They were strong; a mere touch sent a bruise to her skin. Possibly, that was the disease.
Then why would her parents send her to such a place? Did they wish her to become like these people?
"You've accepted." The rushed words came from a hoarse throat that had been constricted with tears.
Lilly didn't need to turn around to know that it was her brother. "Are you sad?" She couldn't allow him to see the tear that fell from her eye. Fortunately, she didn't cry much, so her tears were small and less annoying.
"No, not sad. Afraid perhaps—but not sad." The weeping in his throat proved otherwise. He was devastated—and he knew she would be so far from home.
Without little thought, Lilly melted into the arms of her brother having done so only a few times before. This wasn't knew to him, but it wasn't normal either. She was not the average woman but tonight she believed that it would be in both of their best interest to comfort each other. In only a month's time she would be wed and in two months time living a life he would never be apart of.
"Do you know what the worst part is?" Liam whispered into Lilly's hair, stroking it with brotherly affection. She shook her head against his chest staining it with her infinitesimal tears. "Giving you over to them. Since birth they have been checking on you, reminding us of your fate so we could never truly believe you were ours. But now it's happening—it's becoming true! You're becoming one of them…"
Lilly drew reluctantly back from him, confusion clouding her violet eyes. "I don't understand what you're saying, Liam. I'm not becoming one of them. I'm still me—still here."
He shook her off with discontent. "You'll know soon enough, angel."
"Where did that nickname come from?" Lilly's anger spiked at the word "angel". It didn't suit her—she wasn't pure. And she didn't know why she believed that, but it was a constant truth she told herself as if she had since birth.
"You will soon learn."
"Why can't you just tell me?"
"Because…" His eyes looked down on her probably seeing for the first time that day. He hadn't been himself and maybe this time he would tell her everything like he always did. But there was guilt etched in his eyes so finely that if she wanted to, she could pluck one from them and roll it around her fingers. "Corpus should tell you."
"Is that his name? Lord Vespacelli?"
"For proprieties sake, don't go calling him that but yes that is his name."
Lilly paused mulling over the name. It was cold—just like him. Would he be cold to her? Would he accept her as she had already accepted their marriage? She could be a rotten and awful girl, throw a tantrum, break things, and be crass. But she was being civil about this! He had to have kindness in his heart…somewhere. "I want to say goodbye, Liam."
"Not yet."
"I won't have any time with you now that I am to be wed. Let me just say this."
Like the customs of our village, I kissed his nose first, than both cheeks, and then his forehead. It was a symbol of protection and good fortune, a way to praise God. When I glanced up into his eyes once more, the pain was even more prominent than the guilt. Tasting the tears on her lips she uttered the words she wished she never had to say. "Fare thee well."