Bound by the Blood moon

Chapter 4

Offended, Charlotte sought desperately to deny it. "How dare you! No, I do not. He is insufferably rude, not a gentleman at all. I would never..." Her voice faltered. Though it sounded convincing enough, she couldn't meet Lilias's eyes.

Not wanting to push what she already suspected, Lilias kept quiet and began to tidy the room. "Well, if I may be sae bold, it would be rather romantic. Just like Catriona and Francis," she paused there, hoping to spark Charlotte's interest.

"Who are they?" Charlotte enquired, her tone revealing the eagerness Lilias had anticipated. With a slight smile curving her lips, Lilias suppressed a triumphant smirk as she set aside the neatly folded sheets and turned to meet Charlotte's eyes.

"Some say it's folklore, but Ah believe it. The Moon Goddess chooses our soulmates for us, and she never makes mistakes. They were the first lycanthrope and vampire she united centuries ago. Catriona had bonnie raven-black hair and blue eyes like yours. The tale goes she was visiting a nearby lycanthrope settlement when he saw her. Her father wouldnae let them marry, and hybrids were strictly forbidden. To deter him, he set Francis a task that was impossible for a lycanthrope to complete. Catriona wanted to elope, but Francis wished to earn the right to her hand, and so..."

The sound of something being dropped outside made them both jump, then both girls burst into laughter.

"Well, as captivating as your tale is, I can assure you I possess no sentiments toward Leo in that regard. Might you be so kind as to fetch my cloak?" Charlotte requested, her tone light yet commanding.

Lilias did so, but warily. "Where are ye gaun?" she asked.

"Fear not, I have no intention of embarking upon some grandiose scheme to win his affections," Charlotte replied, casting her gaze aside momentarily, embarrassment flooding her face. "I merely require sustenance."

"Ah understand," Lilias said, busying herself once again with her tasks.

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With that, Charlotte slipped into the encroaching darkness of the night. She wandered to a nearby tavern, observing the raucous laughter of men as they stumbled through the entrance. Women, she noted with a sigh, were relegated to the saloon bar's various corners, entering through a separate door. She discerned their status as middle class, for they occupied a distinct area away from the rougher patrons of the working class. The tavern was fitted with small frosted glass panes which afforded the middle class some semblance of privacy; one could simply open a window to place an order without mingling with the less fortunate on the other side.

Charlotte ordered a modest refreshment and some simple fare before finding a secluded seat to observe the lively crowd. Yet it did not take long for her presence to draw attention. The rowdy band of fellows, their boisterous laughter soon noticed her quiet figure. After an exchange of glances and whispers, the boldest among them approached with a swagger that reeked of overconfidence. "Well now, what is a lovely lady like yourself doing in a place such as this?" he leered, his gaze audaciously roving over her form. "I must confess, I've not encountered your presence in Risbaw before." His approach was both unwelcome and uninvited, marking him as a man who knew no decorum, a fact Charlotte was keenly aware of.

"That's because I do not reside here," she replied, tilting her head ever so slightly as he drew nearer, straining to glimpse more of her delicate features beneath the shadow of her hood. The scent of the rich, fermented spirits upon his breath caused her nose to crinkle in distaste.

"And pray tell, what is it that brings you to this establishment, my dear?" he enquired, a nonchalant smile on his lips as he placed a presumptuous hand upon her thigh, applying a gentle pressure that she met with barely concealed contempt.