Under the vampire Lord's protection
Chapter 237: What to feel

Chapter 237: What to feel

The conversation between them went nowhere, hitting a dead end at every turn.

Not that Arabella hadn’t expected it. Edna denied every hint of involvement in Katherine’s fate.

But the young woman knew better than to trust her words. After what the blonde did to her, it was foolish to assume she’d simply sit with her arms crossed just because she couldn’t reach Arabella or curse her using witchcraft again.

It was obvious she’d go after people surrounding her.

The issue remained the same as her previous ordeal, there was no way to prove any of it. Mere supposition couldn’t win a case or worse yet, it could win... Wrongfully, effectively destroying Edna’s life even if she was innocent. There was a chance for that to be true no matter how slim.

The young woman halted before a familiar door. Not her own.

A shiver struck her upon realizing her feet had guided her there without asking for input or permission.

Her conscious mind had simply been clipped out from the making of that decision altogether.

After her legs, it was her hand that attempted to rebel. It rose, curled into a fist, ready to knock on the wood, but that time around, Arabella caught her limb in time before it embarrassed her.

A deep breath in, she forced her body to spin around and head back from whence it came. However, right as her feet had taken their second step away from the door, its creaking emanated from behind her, effectively cementing her still in place.

"I thought I’d caught a familiar scent," the ice in his voice wasn’t as prominent as its usual.

"Yes, I... I didn’t mean to disturb. I should-"

"Stay," he cut her off mid-sentence.

Always calm as a pond, Silas stood by the door with his chest as the sole proof of life in him.

"I am supposed to be in my room. I left Ada downstairs. She should bring dinner any minute now," with her thumb, Arabella pointed towards one side of the hallway while stepping back from the vampire.

"And yet you came here," he said simply.

"I am sorry. I didn’t mean to," her eyes fell to the floor as she started to flick her fingernails together, "I hadn’t realized I was walking here until I saw your door," her hand then flew and clasped her mother’s pendant.

"Does it scare you?" he leaned on the doorframe.

In response, she merely nodded, never glancing up.

"Then come in just for a few," he stepped aside, opening the door wider, "You’ll see that there is nothing to be scared of. Ada can wait a bit,"

Her gemstones went from him to the gap through the door, straight onto the canvas resting against his desk. It was oiled and some of the tools nearby were disturbed.

Eventually, her heart found the courage to lead her inside.

The clicking from the door shutting behind her still wrenched a little jolt out of her.

"Won’t you tell me what’s so scary?" he walked closer to touching her back but never did. Only his warmth grazed her.

"It scares me to be in places I shouldn’t be," she whispered at first, "I meant to go to my room but I ended up in front of your door. It was like someone made the decision without consulting me and completely shut me off," her voice climbed in decibels but retained its fragility, "And...," she sheepishly ushered towards the canvas, "I disturbed you while you worked,"

"To be frank, I’d been about to summon you," he moved past her, straight for the canvas before stopping in front of it, "I believe I may be done with the piece," he glared down at it from his full height.

Still holding her pendant, Arabella slowly stepped forward. Her features relaxed in a gradual manner as her gemstones studied every inch of that slab.

She who loved reading about history had it carved before her eyes. There was mention of humans, vampires, witches, ghouls and every other species that played part in the great war but something was amiss or so she thought.

The young woman bent further down, bringing her face closer to its surface while tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

"What are your thoughts?" his voice whisked her attention once more, prompting her to stand straight.

"It is lovely, of course!" she chirped.

"But?" he gave her a verbal nudge.

"But I feel as though something is missing," she admitted, looking back at the piece, "I wondered where the angels stand?"

"Angels?" he too tilted his head at it.

"The spirits born on the night of the spring equinox. We, in Lustris, call them angels. They did not actively participate in the war, but that period stretched over a century. Some memorable births were recorded in that span. Bloody battles were interrupted, earning the people a few hours of quiet... No screams, no fire or clinking of swords," she took a deep breath, "It always fascinated me how among all the chaos and racket, these short-lived moments of peace have solidified their spots, making their way to every tome relating the story of the great war,"

"I never saw it that way," his finger brushed a flimsy chip of wood that’d remained stuck on the canvas.

Her hair got his attention next as he wished to see more of her face from that angle. Arabella did not pull away when he tucked a few strands behind her ear.

With such mellowness he’d accomplished that action, even her eyes fluttered shut as a result.

"Are you still scared?" he practically whispered.

"A little," she nodded.

"What would chase your fears away?"

"To understand...," she trailed off, her hand finally letting go of her pendant to rest against her heart, "To know that what I currently feel is... Real. That isn’t just fabricated and fake,"

"What is it you currently feel?" one of his fingers slipped away, trailing down her hair and ending its journey right on the little gashes left on her naked neck by his fangs.

"I think you already know what I feel,"