Lord of Shadow and Blood

Chapter 12: Midnight

The old grandfather clock in the hallway chimed eleven, its mournful notes echoing through Amara House and making Adriana wince, the sound a stark reminder of the lateness of the hour. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm in her ribs as she continued down the staircase, earning a loud creak as she shifted her weight onto a floorboard that had decided to be particularly noisy.

She cursed herself for not remembering that specific creaky step. It had been weeks since she'd had to sneak out at night. Usually it was only Striga in the house, with the occasional staff member that may decide to spend the night rather than return home to the village, and so she did not have to concern herself with such trivial matters. But her father had returned from his latest business trip that afternoon, and, although Adriana knew he was a deep sleeper, she didn't want to take any chances.

With swift steps she made it down the rest of the stairs and set about wrapping her scarf around her to avoid the cold chill of the night. Xander would likely be waiting outside for her, as he always was whenever they'd planned to meet, but tonight was laced with an edge of nervous excitement.

The two of them usually spent their nights wrapped up in one another, whether it be in either of their beds in their respective houses or in the barn, which seemed to be Xander's favourite. But tonight Xander had promised something special to bring in the start of the new year at midnight, something that hinted at a future beyond stolen moments in moonlit barns.

As Adriana secured her gloves with the small buttons around her wrists, she crept towards the front door, her movements as silent as a falling leaf. Just as her hand touched the cool brass knob, a raspy voice shattered the silence.

"Evening, Adriana."

Her blood ran cold at the sound of her father's voice behind her.

"Shit," she breathed out, not bothering to turn around as she still gripped the brass door knob, clinging onto her chance of escape.

"Such vulgar language, daughter!"

"My apologies, father."

Adriana begrudgingly let go of the door knob and sheepishly turned to her father. He stood with his arms crossed in front of the dimly lit doorway to his study, his figure illuminated by a single reading lamp that sat upon his desk.

As her eyes slowly drifted up to his, she almost stumbled in shock at the playful smile he wore. She had expected him to be furious at finding his only daughter sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, and unchaperoned too. Whilst Arthur Clarke was not a man who clung to traditional values, he still sought the respect of others, and having an unruly daughter certainly challenged that.

"Your mother was the same," he chuckled. "Something about Amara women, all of you possess such fierce foul mouths."

"Well, we are all descended from Striga, after all."

"Indeed you are. I think the second biggest mistake was letting that crazed woman stay in this house when I took over."

Adriana couldn't help but smile at her father's dry humour, or at least she hoped he was joking anyway.

As he walked toward her, she noticed how tired he looked. His eyes carried more weight than usual, the lines in his skin seemed more prominent and his hair seemed so much greyer than when he had set off on his trip.

"What is your first?" she asked.

Arthur smiled, though it didn't quite meet his eyes. That was usual for him, Adriana knew that.

"The biggest mistake I have made is not telling your mother just how much I loved her each and every day. And not telling you the same, not telling you how proud I am of you."