Under the vampire Lord's protection
Chapter 226: Little changes

Chapter 226: Little changes

The, more so, awkward than stifling silence between them was over when Arabella’s voice cracked its barriers.

"Thank you," she muttered.

Silas threw one glance her way before looking ahead again, "What are you thanking me for?"

"For allowing me to speak without interjecting," her eyes seemed focused on the tip of her shoes which peeked from underneath her gown again and again, each at their turn as she walked.

"To be frank, I was quite curious to hear the next thing you had to say myself," he paused before adding, "That and... I’ve never seen Cynric out of words before. Needless to say, it was a treat,"

The young woman cleared her throat and waited for her cheeks to recover their natural shade.

"I didn’t mean to overstep," she shook her head.

Instead of commenting on her recent words, Silas decided to broach the subject matter he wanted to discuss from the very moment Cynric had turned around to leave.

"I’d like to hear more about these scriptures you’ll be trying to decipher,"

"Oh...," her head hung lower somehow, "I remember mentioning I’ve read a notebook by a man named Albert Enocs," she half asked.

"You did," the vampire nodded.

"Right," she nodded, "Back then, I did not bring the scriptures up because I believed the topic irrelevant, but in hindsight I realize that was a mistake,"

By then, the two of them reached the unguarded main entrance to the manor. Since the conflict with Cynric was resolved, the vampire guards who were usually tasked with keeping an eye on the property found use for their time elsewhere.

"Yes, you should have. It may have saved me a lot of hassle," Silas pushed the door open and waited for her to go first, "Although I do wish to know how these scriptures somehow brought you to the conclusion that the great caverns were never theirs to begin with,"

"Well, according to the information in the notebook, the older generations of wolf folk used to mark the walls’ deepest pockets of their caves with these writings," Arabella pinched the sides of her gown in order to raise a foot over the steps leading up the first floor, "Enocs noted down every line he’s ever come across and there were many of them...,"

"And you remember them all," it sounded like a statement, but she knew it wasn’t.

"Yes, I do," she muttered.

"You always had a great memory," that one sounded like a statement and was exactly that. Nothing and no hidden meaning behind it.

Her burning face spoke for her enough. No words of gratitude were needed.

"Do you think you will be able to decipher those... Letters?"

"With the right tools, yes," her gemstones darted onto him, that accustomed flare in them whenever she ranted about something even remotely connected to a passion of hers, "Perhaps if I manage it before the end of this month then... There is a high chance the Spring equinox celebration will take place in the great caverns without a hitch and no conflict will arise,"

"Do not put that sort of pressure upon yourself," he advised.

It was at those words that he realized Arabella had stopped in front of his father’s painting, gawking at it with a gaping mouth as though beholding it for the first time.

"What’s the matter?"

When she finally noticed his presence next to her again, she asked, "Was this portrait enchanted by any chance?" her eyes returned onto the canvas once more.

"No," he said, "What makes you think it was?"

"His expression... I think it changed," she whispered more to herself than anyone else.

"How so?" his voice remained stronger than hers, but Silas clearly attempted to mirror her softness.

"He doesn’t seem angry with me anymore," her gemstones followed the brush strokes that imbued life into that portrait.

"Does he now?"

Arabella merely hummed and nodded very slowly in reply.

"You haven’t eaten a thing since we got off the ship," Silas settled a gentle hand on her back in order to steer her in a different direction.

She did not resist it as the gesture was reminiscent of Katherine’s attempts at coaxing or encouraging her.

"No, I haven’t and to be honest, I do feel hungry," she stated as if making a discovery.

When they finally reached the door to her room, the vampire stopped first and opened it.

The young woman stepped inside but when he didn’t follow, she halted, looking back at him expectantly.

"I believe the rest of our conversation is best had when both of us are well rested," he took the doorknob again, "I will come by tomorrow morning,"

Arabella was barely given the time to respond before he shut the door between them.

Standing alone in there, the air smelled different that night... Nicer? She was not entirely sure.

From the bed, to the wardrobe and then to the table carrying the poem anthology as well as the withering roses, something felt different.

She went through the motion of her nightly routine until the wincing of small wheels caught her attention.

Seemingly pushed with a lot more ease, the food trolley showed very little resistance to whoever was bringing dinner that night.

Arabella concluded it couldn’t have been Ada.

Sure enough, her hunch turned out to be true when the tray rolled in ahead of none other than Katherine herself.

Instantly, Arabella leaped onto her feet and ran to embrace the vampiress.

"Oh Katherine! You are on your feet! How are you feeling? You shouldn’t be working, you know! It’s too early for that!" the questions and chastising spilled out of her all at once, giving her very little time to breathe.

"Come now, simmer down," Katherine chuckled, breaking their hug, "I am more than alright. I...," but she trailed off, eyes stuck on the two little holes dug in Arabella’s neck, "Did Master Silas feed again and why aren’t you heeling?"

"No, he did not feed. Not really at least," blood rushed the young woman’s face again as she turned sheepish.