Kiss of the Devil

Chapter 4

That evening, Alaric led her and Archard to the dining room. It was enormous, much larger than the one at the manor. The room had two massive chandeliers, each prong fitted with a candle. Even though there must've been a hundred candles on each chandelier, the room was dimly lit. On one side of the vast table sat an elegant woman. She looked to be in her late twenties. Next to her sat a teenager, perhaps not much older than Genevieve. Both women had white hair and stormy grey eyes. The older woman stood and curtsied to Genevieve, who quickly returned the gesture. Before Genevieve could react, she was enveloped in the woman's arms.

"Oh, it is so nice to meet you, dear," the woman said. "Let me get a good look at you!"

Genevieve awkwardly turned in a slow circle. She hadn't changed out of her blue dress but now wished she had. She had brushed her long curls out, leaving them frizzy and agitated. She silently scolded herself for not braiding them.

"Hi," Archard said with a grin. "I'm Archard!"

"Oh!" gasped the woman. She glanced between the two of them before opening her mouth once more. "Is this your... son?"

"My brother, ma'am," Genevieve answered quickly, not sure how to address this woman.

"Oh, where are my manners?" cried the woman. "My name is Elizabet. I'm Alaric's mother. What is your name, dear?"

That took Genevieve by surprise. This woman didn't seem that old. Before she was able to reply, Alaric spoke for her.

"Mother, this is Genevieve. She and her brother will be joining us for dinner," Alaric stated as he guided the two to their seats. Genevieve sat beside the other woman who seemed her age. She silently questioned whether this woman was actually her age or not. Regardless, she was just as beautiful as her mother.

"I'm Genevieve," she whispered to the girl with a small smile. Perhaps she'd have a friend.

"I'm Eleanor," the girl whispered back. As the girl smiled back at Genevieve, she swore she saw fangs instead of canines. This sent a shiver down the redhead's spine, and she quickly turned away.

Dinner passed quickly with trivial bits of conversation here and there. His family tried their best to get to know Genevieve, but she kept her answers short and simple. Finally, one caught her off guard.

"And what of your parents, dear? What are they like?" Elizabet asked fondly as she delicately drank her soup.

Genevieve's spoon fell from her grip, causing the bowl of soup to slosh all over her front of the gown. She stood quickly, hissing in pain as the soup scorched her skin. She said a quick but polite goodbye before racing out the room and up the stairs. She didn't stop until she reached her room.

Genevieve collapsed against the door, sobbing. She wasn't in pain anymore, but the thought of divulging her parents' murder to them distressed her beyond belief. She still hadn't told Archard the truth. Only that they'd died of the flu, like his brothers. She stood and rushed to the closet. She flung off her apron in a rage. Just as she was about to change, there was a knock on the door. She quickly opened it to see Alaric standing there.

"What do you want?" she sniffled sourly.

"What's wrong? Why did that question startle you so?" he asked as he forced his way into the room.

Genevieve crossed her arms, refusing to answer. If he was going to be rude, then so was she. She stalked to the window and stared outside. A vast forest spread out across the landscape. Genevieve imagined herself running away, sneaking through the woods. She'd never seen something so haunted-looking.

Alaric watched her, confused and hurt. He walked over to her and placed a tentative hand on the small of her back. He felt her stiffen before relaxing once more. There was something about him that made her unwind. Perhaps it was the way he was so gentle with Archard and herself, or maybe it was because she knew that in the end, she had no choice but to accept him.

"Why did that question startle you?" he asked again, this time more kindly.

Genevieve buried her face in her hands, debating on whether to answer or not. After a long while, she felt Alaric sigh, and he turned her around. Before she knew it, he enveloped her in his arms. She trembled for a moment before hugging him back. It had been so long since she had been held like this. She sobbed quietly, burying her face into his shirt.

Alaric was shocked. This iron-willed woman who seemed so strong was crumbling to pieces in his arms. He tenderly rubbed her back and murmured sweet comforts to her until she finally stopped.

"My parents were murdered," she said, her voice cracking from the weight of her secret. "Victoria and Warrick, and all of them, they murdered my parents. Archard doesn't know, please don't tell him."

Alaric stiffened. No wonder she was the way she is, how protective and motherly she was over Archard. How could she even begin to fathom trust in them all? Did she believe he'd organized this?

"Genevieve, believe me, had I known, I would've punished those responsible. I will help you get revenge, I swear to you," he said as he backed away from her. "Look at me."

Genevieve looked up at him, tears in her bright eyes. "Yes?" she asked.

"You are safe here. Both of you," Alaric assured her. "I swear to you that no harm will ever befall you as long as I am around."

Comfort swept over her, and she found herself hugging the prince once more. For a moment, a wonderful moment, Alaric pretended they were a regular courting couple. He wasn't a prince, that she wasn't kidnapped. That they were common people just enjoying each other's time.

Genevieve moved away first, blushing brightly. "Thank you, Prince Alaric," she said as she curtsied to him.

"Genevieve, would you accompany me to the village tomorrow?" he asked her. "I have something to ask of you."

"Of course, your Majesty," she said.

"Please, call me Alaric," he told her.

"All right, Alaric," she said shyly.

Just as Alaric was beginning to leave, Genevieve grabbed his cold hand, gasping at how dead it felt. She composed herself and tried to speak.

"Why am I here?" she finally asked.

Alaric hesitated before deciding it was best to tell her the truth. "We are to be married," he said. "I hope that isn't too forward, and it happens within our own time. Nothing will be forced upon you, I promise."