Conspiracy

Seeing Andre

The sky was a perfect mirror of the morning's colours as Regina stepped out of the inn, feeling refreshed after her afternoon rest. As her eyes adjusted to the settling gloom, elation inflated her heart as her eyes fell on the ebony carriage before her. Harnessed to it were four majestic, coal-coloured stallions, who were being spoken to by a tall, long-haired stranger, clad in the same-coloured clothing and hat. He spoke to the horses with the skill and touch of a marshal, and he stroked each one lovingly on the neck. Regina smiled at the way he treated each animal with equal amounts of love; it was rare to find someone who cared for horses as much as he seemed to. As he was grooming, his gaze flickered to Regina, and her heart skipped a beat as his eyes gave a bloody reflection in the dying light. He smiled, and his teeth revealed themselves as tiny, pointed blades. Her insides began to freeze as she lowered her gaze, pinching her arm and telling herself that it was merely a trick of the light or even the eyes. She looked up again, and dread clouded her mind as she saw him approaching.

"Regina Adams?" he called.
"Yes?" she replied softly.
"I am the chauffeur here to take you to Prahova Valley."
"Ah yes. My brother said you'd meet me here."
"Indeed. Shall we?" as gestured to the carriage and held out his hand. She took it graciously, but gasped with horror as their skin met, for his hand was cold and lifeless, as though he had died days before, and his corpse had risen only for this rendezvous.
"Is something wrong? Forgive me if I upset you." He bowed, emitting a fear of thinking he had upset her in some unforgivable way.
"Oh no. You didn't. it's just your hand is... so incredibly cold to the touch. It's just an unknown sensation to me. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."
"That's perfectly alright. Yes, my skin is very cold, but it is simply because of the climate and my incessant refusal to wear gloves." He chuckled as he opened the carriage door. Regina simply smiled in reply as she stepped into the dark confines of the coach, trying to hide the icicles of terror that were creeping through her veins. The driver closed the door, then raced to load her luggage onto the back of the coach, before jumping into the driver's seat. With a gentle flick of the reins, the horses began to trot along the flagstones, yanking the carriage to lurch into motion. The ride was long and jarring, and though her outsides were freezing, Regina's insides felt warm with a concoction of fear and excitement. With every lurch, they were coming closer to Prahova Valley, which meant she was getting closer to her brother. But they were also coming closer to more uncertainty and, dare she say it, danger? The old man's chanting and Ethel's voice were still buzzing in her brain like one, jumbled, unholy melody that could not be stopped. She knew she had no reason to fear the future, and yet she did. She feared the driver, but also felt safe in his vicinity, and she was clueless as to why. Perhaps it was fatigue, or perhaps her mind was beginning to slip. She had been feeling rather out of sorts lately. But she knew she could not be dwelling on these thoughts when she met her brother, so she resolved to push them away until things had settled down, and instead focused on enjoying the ride. They travelled and jostled for what seemed like an eternity until finally, the driver's voice called out for the horses to stop. A cold hand of panic began to wrap its icy fingers around her heart as the coach rolled to a stop, and the sound of several pairs of feet stomping around outside flooded her ears. But the moment the door was opened, she laughed with relief. Before her stood a handsome, chiselled face framed by a head of well-kept, sandy hair as wavy as the sea. In the middle were two pools of ink as deep a blue as the Midnight Suite.
"Andre!" Regina cried, throwing herself into her brother's open arms.
"Regina! It's so good to see you! I've missed you so much!" he laughed; a deep, rumbling laugh that made his chest vibrate against her cheek. Regina suddenly shied away from him, her expression a mixture of terror and confusion.
"What? What is it? Is everything okay?"
"You're... so cold. Just like..." she turned to point to the mysterious driver but gasped when he was nowhere to be found.
"It's cold up here, Regina. Don't worry. I'm fine. I promise." He smiled, holding his arms open once more. Despite her reservations, she couldn't resist rushing into his icy embrace.
"What are you doing here? I thought I was to meet you on the estate."
"I know, but I just couldn't wait a moment longer. I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you, too. And how is everyone? How is Edmund? Oh, it's been forever since I've seen him."
"Edmund is wonderful. We are wonderful? Did I tell you we were married not two winters ago?"
"Andre! That's wonderful! Why didn't you write me?"
"The postal service in this corner of the world is not exactly what one would refer to as reliable. But come now, Regina. We should not be discussing such matters in this biting cold. Let us return to the estate. You must be freezing and exhausted." His loving smile never left his lips as he guided her to the carriage in which he had arrived. He assisted her in, then hoisted himself in after, cuddling in beside her and letting her lay against him. The coach suddenly sank as the driver added the weight of Regina's luggage to the back, then jumped into his own seat. There was a gentle "Hyah!" and flick of reins, and the carriage began to move along the road. The interior of this carriage was strikingly different from that of the previous, as it was warm and well-lit. Nestled in the crook of her brother's arm, and swayed by the gentle rocking of the coach, the hours of travelling and torment that had caused sleep to evade Regina were at last chased away as she was pulled into the warmth and peace of the sandman's embrace.