"You saw me?" Henry asked. "You saw me when I was human?" He could not name the emotion that welled up inside him.
Adrienna nodded, "It was one of the reasons that I was so adamant about having this face to face meeting. You should know, by the way, that Kevin fought long and hard to avoid you having to meet with me, he really does have your best interests at heart, you know."
"How?" Henry paused, trying to collect his thoughts, "How did you know that it was…I mean…"
Adrienna took pity on the younger vampire. "Come now Henry, Augustus owed me the courtesy of a minimum of information about my new neighbor, and once he had provided me with the name Henry Fitzroy, well…I may look old Henry, but that doesn't make me senile. It wasn't hard to make a connection, and well, I knew your age."
Henry's eyes narrowed at the thought of Augustus giving any information about him to another vampire.
"Henry, you really need to guard your face a bit more." Adrienna patted his arm, in a gesture which was at once both comforting and thrillingly unfamiliar. "You do realize how worried Augustus was about you; you seem to be a particular favorite of his. It makes sense that he would seek the advice of an older, more experienced vampire, when he was faced with your curious malaise on your arrival in Vancouver."
Henry's head came up, "He told you about that?"
"Henry," she chided gently. "The risk was minimal; Augustus knows that I will not be moved from my territory, and that I did not pose a threat. Having seen you with your Chosen, I understand better what was happening. Augustus didn't tell me you had given yourself to…"
"Augustus didn't know. For that matter neither did I." Henry grudgingly admitted.
"Yes well that is really of no import, as you are together now," Adrienna said, watching the Prince carefully. He did not respond but she saw the shadow cross his face.
Are we? he wondered.
Adrienna broke away from the subject and glanced around the garden, heading slowly towards the vine covered structure at its center.
"At any rate, once I knew who you were supposed to be, I wanted to see you for myself," she continued. "I supposed that you could simply be someone purporting themselves to be the Bastard Prince."
Henry drew himself up, affronted. "So tell me, have I met with your expectations Madam? Are you convinced that I am who I claim to be?"
"Well, if I had any suspicions, the expression on your face right now would allay them!" she laughed. "Relax, Your Grace; I am convinced that you are indeed the Bastard Prince, Henry Fitzroy."
Somewhat mollified, Henry tried out a tentative smile. "So were you just going to tell me that you saw me and not elaborate?"
Adrienna just shook her head, "No, but it is an old memory even for me, yet it has stayed with me, and I have on occasion wondered…" She settled herself on a low, stone wall, clasping her hands in her lap. Over her head arched ornate trellises supporting the heavy weight of the twisted and intertwining vines of the pale moon flower.
"It was an autumn evening, I remember," she began. "The sky that pristine violet that you so seldom see any more, you know?"
Henry nodded, the earliest part of the night, when the air was still and pure and held the last lingering bird-song of the day.
"I remember…" she said.
As soon as she rose, she could feel it, even here in the dark cellar where she had sheltered while the sun ruled the sky. She could feel the rolling current of human violence that sullied the very air that she drew into her body with her first convulsive breath of the night. Her instincts prickled and roused. Yes the hunger was there but more than that, she could almost taste the eddying and swirling energy on the air, it was dark and dangerous, the energy of the group…the energy of the mob.
At first she was uneasy and disturbed, searching her memory for any slip, any mistake that might have given away her presence amid the humans. Long experience had taught her that the mob was more unpredictable and far more dangerous than any beast. When the individual became lost in the mob consciousness, then hysteria overrode the better part of the human soul.
She had over the course of the long years, either through carelessness, or betrayal, been the object of human hatred and intolerance. There had been narrow escapes and terrible violence. Yes, the roiling energy in the air made her cool flesh crawl. She left the cellar by her private exit and reentered the house through the public entrance. Her landlord called out to her as she climbed the stairs to her chambers above.
"Have you had a busy day a-sewing Madam Seamstress?" he asked.
"Yes indeed, Sir," she said. "Madam Feraugh was most pleased with the chemise I embroidered and she had me begin work on some fine silken undergarments…"
Coloring, the landlord changed the subject quickly. "Have you been past the square? There is to be a beheading this evening."
"Why no, I did not come that way," Adrienna said. This explains the violence that is heavy in the air, she thought.
"Tell me sir, who is to be beheaded, and what the charges are?" she asked.
"Oh, tis the three Scots that they've had at the gaol, for the last five days now. Bearded barbarians all, mistress, traitors plotting treason and harm to our King Henry." The landlord shook his head energetically, his jowls wobbling in a most unbecoming fashion.
"They was to be drawn'n quartered, but tis said that Queen Catherine beseeched King Henry for clemency."
God bless you Catherine, Adrienna thought, Were there to be that kind of spectacle here tonight, even if I kept to my rooms, the madness of the crowd would have driven me to the hunt. The violence in the night would be just too hard to resist. Adrienna had to make a conscious effort to keep her fangs retracted at the thought. The sheer power of the bloodlust of the crowd was appalling.
"King Henry gave way to his Spanish Queen's request and the punishment has been reduced to a simple beheading. A little disappointing really, I do enjoy the temporary hanging, the way they twitch and…" the landlord said with an utterly wicked smile on his thick lips.
If he had hoped to shock the grey-haired seamstress he was disappointed. Do not show weakness. Adrienna's mouth thinned to a flat line. "The crowd will be disappointed," was all that she said.
"Yes," the landlord agreed, "except, except that the King will witness the execution himself and…" here the landlord paused for effect.
"And?" Adrienna said irritably. I just want to get to my chamber and wash and be as far distant from this lout as I can, perhaps if I compelled him…no, too dangerous, just to avoid a little annoyance.
"And…they say that He will bring his bastard to stand by him," the landlord finished excitedly.
"The Bastard Prince," Adrienna said. This was news indeed. She knew that the King had recently raised the boy, Duke of Richmond, Earl of Somerset. What was the child, perhaps six, a little more? Adrienna thought, the same age as my wee Margret, when she was taken from me.
"Why-ever would the King bring a child to a beheading?" she wondered aloud.
"Why-ever indeed mistress?" the landlord said.
Adrienna turned and started up the stairs. "I think I will fetch my shawl and go down to the square," she said.
Once outside, wrapped in her shawl, with one end of the soft wool pulled up to drape around her head, she made her way to the square. She knew, courtesy of the talkative landlord, that the execution had been delayed past sunset because they were waiting for the King to return from the hunt, to dine, and then, with his courtiers, to arrive at the Magistrate's house not far from the now torch-lit, square.
The night air was full of the currents of anger and violence and the peculiar and attractive scent of human lust. This was something with which the vampire was well acquainted; violence and sex were often bed partners.
Making her way among the thickening crowd was like swimming against the tide. Each step required effort; each step required a firmer and firmer hold on the hunger that burned low in her belly.
Finally, she reached the torch-lit square. The mood of the crowd, assembled before the platform on which the executions were to occur, was one of equal parts feral excitement and lustful anticipation. It made her face ache with the effort to keep from snarling at the jabbering humans.
Amid the jostling elbows and the craning necks, she wound her way through the townsfolk, eventually arriving at the place where she knew that the prisoners would be led from the gaol.
Three Scots, traitors all, that is what the boor of a landlord said, she thought. If I can get close enough to touch, I might ease their passage a little and allow them the dignity of pride and silence, just for the sake of my home, long gone to dust.
The crowd began to shout and jostle as the sound of the approach of the Royal party was heard and Adrienna craned her neck with the rest of the crowd. There were guards who roughly parted the townsfolk, pushing back and slowly compacting the mass of humanity into a seething, tight-packed crowd.
Then there was the sound of the horse's hooves and a roar went up from the crowd as the Royal Carriage rolled into view.