The Fall of Vequera

Chapter forty-four | Valia

LOCATION: AIREDAL, HELELL

YEAR: 621

THE HELELLIAN COURT CONSISTED OF THREE COLORS: RED, DARK GREEN, AND BLACK.

The royalty of Helell, House Bathory wore red. The nobility wore green, and finally, commoners and fledglings wore black or a dark hue of gray. The high lord insisted that she was dressed in the finest of gowns. She was his dear. Servants worked around her as they dressed her. Lazarus analyzed her calmly. His red eyes sent a chill down her spine as she met them. He sat on her bed with her sword in his hands as he caressed it. Her jaw clenched. The princess hadn't spoken much since he kissed her. In front of everyone. In front of Koa.

His lips lacked warmth. The memory of when she was a child came into her mind. She loathed everything about the high lord. Mostly his eyes. He was always watching her. Barely ever taking his eyes off of her since she arrived. His crown was on his head, it seemed to be made out of wood carved into thorns. Possibly soaked in poison. She didn't know much about poisons. His brides, Esmeray and Deimos sat in the corner of the room. It bothered her. She didn't know why he had them in her room. Deimos barely spoke at all and Esmeray talked in a meek voice like she was afraid every second of the day. Then she found out why Deimos didn't speak, it was because he had his tongue removed when he was human. Scars or missing body parts didn't heal when one turned into a ventrui.

His brides wore a mix of red and black. She had been standing on a stool, while they tailored her gown to fit her. One servant grabbed a round metal container and twisted the top. Inside was a red powder and the servant tapped two fingers inside before rubbing them on Valia's lips. It made her feel like they were preparing her for a feast of her own flesh. The high lord was to feast on her carcass like a hungry vulture. He had her where he wanted her. But she would only have to keep up the facade for a time. Her mother would die soon and that was the only thing that was on her mind at the moment.

"This is a lovely sword." Exclaimed Lazarus. "Why do you have it?" He glanced at the sword in his lap before looking up at her. She blinked, staring at the wall. He sighed.

"You are much older now, Valia. I do not see why you must play these childish games. When I speak to you, I would like an answer." His voice was silvery but held a threatening tone. Her jaw was unclenched as she opened her mouth.

"I-it was gifted to me." She stuttered quietly.

He hummed before standing and placing the sword on the bed, neatly. The high lord was much taller than her, she only made it slightly past his shoulder. He stood in front of her with hooded eyes. A faint smell of lavender came from him. She focused on the smell instead of meeting his gaze. His hand reached out and touched her hair, twirling a strand in his fingers. "I always thought you looked like your grandmother, Queen Deidamia. In her prime, she was such a beauty." He spoke of her grandmother as if they were old friends. And they probably were. Before she had been married to King Erato, the queen's mother had been the princess of Mayda. The second-born daughter of King George.

"Thank you, Your Grace." She said as she forced a smile that did not meet her eyes.

"Keep her hair down. It looks better that way." He nodded as he turned to one of the servants.

"Of course, Your Grace."

He had relieved himself of silks for a formal look. "It will be chilly, so pair it with a surcoat." His hand moved from her hair to her shoulder then moved to her hip. The flame threatened to arise as his hand touched her stomach. "Does your mother know?"

"She does not. I wish for her not to nor my brother." She responded quickly.

"So, you can contest the throne?"