The weeks and time in the castle seemed to be flying by. Nights filled with
tender embraces, and it all was starting to feel quite normal and routine. However, as of
late Markus seemed to be arriving home later and later. Many times Elena had fallen
asleep waiting for him, and he would leave quickly upon rising. His temper seemed to be
getting shorter, and Elena could not help but hear on the few occasions, when she was
half asleep half awake, the groan he let out, when he crawled into bed. Almost as if he
was sore.
Elena found it hard to believe that he could be doing any manual labor. Not a man like
Markus, who seemed to be more than a little well off?
Sometimes Elena would lay awake trying to wait up for him, while imagining what he was out
doing. In truth, she was pretty stumped. She sure did not like that fact that she was
seeing less and less of him, and when he did speak to her, his answers seemed to be curt
and to the point. She could not help but wonder if he no longer found her attractive.
She had always heard of "old cow syndrome", but it never occurred to her until now, that it
could apply to her. She couldn't help but notice he hadn't touched her in weeks, and the
nights she was pretending to be asleep, so he would not know she had been waiting up for
him, he guzzled down half a wine bottle of the Black rose wine, before climbing into
bed, or his breath reeked of whiskey. Elena did not know much when it came to alcohols.
The parties she went to in high school, everyone just drank what was there. Therefore, she had no
idea, if it was a Scotch, or Bourbon, or what exactly was on his breath, but knew whatever
it was, there was a lot of it.
Those nights Elena found herself wondering if he had another "slave". Held up in another
castle somewhere, that was now getting all his attention, along with the passion he use to share
with her. She told herself it shouldn't matter, that actually she should be grateful, he
was no longer "pawing and groping" her. Yet the thought irked her all the same.
Those nights, she rubbed her belly while swearing to her unborn child, she would find
A way to get them both out of there…somehow.
She had approached Ezra just a couple days ago, after Markus had come home the night
before in an excessively brooding mood. She'd had been waiting up for him, and jumped into
bed when she heard his footstep approaching on the stairs. She had tried to calm her
breathing to fain sleep, when she had heard the doorknob. Much to her dismay, he never
opened it, but only paused temporarily, before opening the door to the room next door.
She could not figure out what he was doing in the nursery, when she heard him sit down in
the rocking chair. He let out and string of profanities, which sounded strained, as if
coming through gritted teeth.
"That's it", she thought to herself. "He's mad that I've gotten so big. He is disgusted
by me and the baby." If he hates it that much, would he sells it? This thought had not
occurred to her before, as she still hadn't really let the thought of being someone's
property settle in. She had still been thinking like a normal human up above, with
rights. This new line of thinking seriously frightened her. Markus never came to his
bedroom that night. Instead, he choose to spend the remainder of it in the nursery.
It was with these thoughts; she had decided to try to plead with Ezra again the next day,
to let her escape. If not for her sake, than at the very least for the safety of her and Damon's child. The only thing she had left of Damon That tiny bit of him, which grew
within her. It was odd for her to think of Damon with a heartbeat. He hadn't had one
around her for very long. Yet she had not forgotten that adorable little boy who use to
be chained to a rock. She had hoped he had gone to heaven, yet once she found out she was
with child, she pictured him safe and warm inside her. She rubbed her belly every time
she thought of him, and swore again to keep him safe.
Ezra too had noticed the change in his Master. Elena seemed different to him, from other
Slaves, and Mistresses he had guarded. Elena was kind and good. He had heard of her, and
her kindness, and bravery, but had chalked it up to rumor, before getting to know her.
Ezra had always made it a point not to get involved in his employers lives. There was no
room for emotion, in his job. Emotions led to faulty decisions, and weakness. He had been
Taught this from the age of two. Like all of his male ancestors, he had been bestowed
with the honor of being received into the Guard. Guards did not really have parents…at
least none that they could remember. At the age of two they were taught not to cry, and
from there on out a life of strict discipline, which they gladly accepted. Not just anyone
could be a Guard. Your acceptance was determined by your bloodline. He had heard stories
of some whom had been disgraced by their mother's unwillingness to part with them.
Thereby denying them there life of honor. Those were told as horror stories, and the
mothers considered selfish. The ruined boys, grew into disgraced, honor less, and without
merit men. Or so the stories went. Ezra was thankful he had not been one of them. He
could not fathom a life without his honorable profession. To him, it was not a mere
profession, it was a way of life, who he was, and all he wanted to be. It was the highest
calling.
Watching Elena silently, or at least mostly silently these last weeks, had made Ezra
question this inside. She was so good. He could not help but wonder what a life would of
been like to grow up with a mother... one like her? It made him wonder about his own and
what she had been like? Who she had been? They were never told who bore them, only what
tree they were descendant from. He quickly shook the thought off. Yet the seed had been
planted.