Bride To His Darkness
Chapter 62: Hot Wax

Chapter 62: Hot Wax

Stepping out of the Palace building, Ivan stopped in his tracks when his gaze fell upon the lifeless body that had been brought back as evidence to their report, and the guards that surrounded the body swiftly moved back for Ivan to have a clear view.

On the cold floor lay the body of a female servant he hardly recognized, her skin had turned pale, and her eyes devoid of any form of life.

When he stooped down to observe the bleeding area on her chest, he could tell from years of diligent practice that her attacker had aimed specifically for her heart. The arrow wasn’t strayed, it was a deliberate attempt to kill.

"Where’s the weapon?" Ivan turned to the guards who stepped forward to hand him the arrow that had been used to assassinate the servant.

"It’s a bodkin arrow." Holding it lightly in his grip, his crimson eyes studied the shaft all the way to the narrowed pointed head - he didn’t need any prior notification to know the bloodstain on the arrow belonged to the servant, he could smell it, and it made accurate sense why she had to flee from the Palace in a rush.

Whoever she saw that night had been after her.

"The arrow can only be crafted by a master-level Fletcher, it’s easy to tell from the tip." Alistair validly butted in, directing Ivan’s gaze to the brown feathers attached to the nock of the arrow. "They work hand-in-hand with bow makers. I can assemble a group of guards and we’ll visit the nearest town and villages at mid-noon to find out who bought the last brown feathered arrow piece."

"Every Fletcher keeps a register of the customer’s purchases." Ivan quietly murmured to himself before glancing at Alistair and giving him a go-ahead nod. It wasn’t the smartest idea, but it wasn’t the dullest either. The bodkin arrow was specifically crafted for battle, and the extremely sharp, narrow pointed head could pierce through armor, talk more of human skin.

If they don’t deal with the matter crucially, more people might die from this unknown archery master.

"The stress...." he hissed out.

The death of the servant proves one thing, and he was more than convinced that his Grandmother never committed suicide. If he hadn’t left for the hunting ground on that day, all of this hoax would have been avoided. Partly, he was also to blame for the death of the servant.

"Take the body to the dungeon." He ordered the guards who moved to do as they were assigned.

Feeling stressed, Ivan went back into the Palace, passing the vestibule. Herbert, who was waiting at a corner, stepped out from his hiding place when Ivan beckoned him over with a finger, and then he whispered. "Pay a visit to the royal Fletcher tonight, no one must see you do it."

"What if they don’t speak up, My Lord?"

"Then keep hitting." Ending the conversation there with his final ultimatum, he snapped his fingers, signaling their departure as they took different corners, exiting the Vestibule at the same time.

Samantha and Lucy anxiously stood beside one of the pillars at the vestibule, and they hid away when Ivan passed by, hardly sensing their presence. With the butler attending to the royal errands at front, it was impossible for Samantha and Lucy to move closer and eavesdrop on the conversation. A look of worry and concern was etched on their faces as they too had listened to the report of the guards, and Samantha glanced at Lucy who was still trying to confirm if their information was true or not.

"Lucia is dead? That can’t possibly be can it?" The thought of it already sent chills down Lucy’s spine, and her heart dropped heavily when the guards carried the dead body of Lucia into the Palace, taking it to heaven knows where! Lucia had been a quiet servant around the Palace, although they hardly interacted with one another, she wasn’t a bad person, so who could have done this to her?

"No one is to be trusted, first it was the Queen Mother, now it’s Lucia? Who’s going to die next?"

"No one." Samantha answered with faith, moving away from the pillar as her gaze followed the dead body that was being taken away. Strangely, it reminded her of the same girl who cried for help at the slave establishment, and she immediately shook away the cold creeps from her system, not mentally prepared to handle anymore depression.

"I need to return to Lord Ivan now, meet me at the colonnade during noon. We’ll talk then." Samantha whispered to Lucy who nodded her head firmly before they departed.

As Lucy made her way past the vestibule, her gaze fell on the timid Felicia who brought her palm to her mouth in disbelief, ceaseless teardrops escaped her shock-filled eyes as she witnessed the sight of Lucia’s dead body being taken away. It was the first time Lucy had seen Felecia so broken, and she forgot about her suspicions when Felicia dropped to the floor.

"Licia." Lucy approached the crying servant, dropping on her knees right beside her, and when the servant couldn’t speak through her tears, she hugged Lucy instead.

"Lucia is innocent, why... why would they kill her like that?"

"It’s alright." Lucy tried to calm her down, feeling her own tears prick her eyes.

Creaking the door open, Samantha quietly walked into the bright-lit room to find Lord Ivan shirtless, revealing his sculpted and powerful physique to her naked gaze. He was standing close to the dressing table, holding a candle and crushing it into a small palm-sized marble pot with a pestle. Even with his gaze fixed on what he was doing, Samantha could tell from the way he kept pounding that his mind was completely elsewhere.

Closing the door, she hurried to his side and reached for the pestle from his grip.

"You won’t mash it smoothly with that type of pounding. I’ll do it for you." She insisted.

Ivan, who barely realized when she walked in, was snapped back to reality when he felt her delicate hands resting upon his. His solemn gaze lingered on the slender fingers that shielded his hand, and when he met her green eyes, he involuntarily averted his gaze elsewhere before taking his hand away and allowing her to hold the small marble pot.

"When did you wake?"

"Not too long." Samantha mashed the wax continuously before glancing at the uneasy Vampire who seemed to be avoiding her gaze. "What is the purpose of the wax?"

"I need you to help me heat it up."

"Heat it up?" She blinked cluelessly, whilst Ivan had to turn his head to look at the mystified woman. "Paraffin wax, Little Lamb, once melted, relieves pain and sore joints."

His explanation only confused her more till her gaze instinctively moved to the series of painful marks that etched across his bare back. Stupefied to her wits, her gaze traced the fresh scars, marveling at the resilience that lay within the immortal being, because in the training ground, one would never suspect he had incurred this much damage when he gave no reaction whatsoever.

But how come he’s not healing?

"I’ll... I’ll heat it up quickly." Stepping out of the room with the crushed wax, Samantha returned later on with the paraffin wax perfectly heated, and one could still see the hot steam that evaporated from the top.

Ivan was sitting in the Chaise lounge when Samantha suddenly approached him with some lukewarm water in a blue bowl. She had picked a clean towel from his wardrobe and was presently on her knees in front of him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and when Samantha failed to get the meaning behind his question, he sighed exasperatedly and took the towel from her grip.

"Go, I’ll do it myself."

"There are a lot of things you can actually do for yourself which you don’t." Retorted Samantha as she stubbornly remained in her position. "But this is different, you need help."

"Are you deciding for me if I’m in need of one or not?"

"I’m simply stating facts." She answered honestly, "your wounds are in places that no matter how hard you stretch, you won’t be able to reach it. I am your servant and that is why I’m here, so allow me to fulfill my duties."

Samantha stretched her hand forth, requesting he hands her the towel so she can commence treatment. Ivan gazed at the human, and there was an amused glint in his eyes before he handed her towel.

"Please lay on your belly." She gestured for Ivan to lay down on the Chaise lounge, and the Vampire Lord silently did as instructed. Samantha’s gaze returned to the deep, crimson gashes on his back, and slowly, she began to wipe off the blood-stain, cleaning his back and getting rid of the sweat and blood using the towel.

She knew better than to pry or ask about his marks, but still, she wondered what other type of secrets and stories he must have kept hidden beneath his stoic exterior.

"Won’t you ask me about the scars?" Ivan’s voice jolted her back to reality, and Samantha glanced at the Vampire Lord who had turned his head to the side, watching her with crimson eyes, and Samantha fought through her resolve as she cleared her throat.

"Why would I care about your scars? I am only doing my duties." She responded and carefully wiped his body down to his spine. "I’ve heard Vampires are intensely private creatures, and their pasts are often shrouded with mysteries, which are never good. You won’t tell me the story even if I ask."

"Did you grow wiser overnight? You’ve always been a meddlesome little brat."

"Brat?" Her eyes sprang wide, and she scoffed out loud. "I am treating your wound and you treat me like this?!!"

"Duty calls." He retorted when the annoyed young woman finished drying up his back, and then she picked up the small marble pot containing hot wax.

"That is unarguable, My Lord." Smiling with evil intent, Samantha picked up the thin brush she would use to apply the wax on his skin. Not waiting for it to cool down, she dipped the brush into the hot steaming wax.

Filling the mouth of the brush with enough hot wax, she applied it on the spot where she was sure it would hurt most, whilst Ivan’s eyes snapped wide when he felt his skin burning.