WALPURGIA ✔️

Chapter 12 - Please help me, Genevieve!

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"Get that little rascal off Lady de Chauvette!"

It was her.

Holding my breath, not tearing my eyes off her, I was clinging onto Genevieve's arm, my ancestor, my stormy relative, the one's name I carried.

It was really her!

Here I was, even though I had promised Baldwin to wait for him at the inn until the meeting was over, tugging at my ancestor's sleeve, begging her to lend me her undivided attention.

The silk of her gown felt expensive, the pearls too beautiful to destroy. The red curls were a stark contrast to the pale colour.

Lively. Stern. Frowning. Such a Victorian witch.

Genevieve slapped my arm away, furry in her strange eyes, but I nudged closer.

No.

Not again.

I can't possibly let that chance slip by – not again.

I wanted her to answer my questions, maybe get her to lift the binding off the other countries – and then go back home.

I missed my boys, my grandchildren, my best friend, my community.

My era.

My safe surroundings.

I reached out for her again, a thousand thoughts on my mind, yet only one thing escaped my perfect vampire mouth.

"Madame- please! Just one question!", she had overwhelmed me. My knees trembled. I had difficulties staying calm, still. I was lost in her presence.

The bells in my voice sounded like sirens – not peaceful and calming anymore.

I cried in pain as I was pinned by somebody.

Turning around, I spotted two guards – both witches – frowning down at me, clutching me even closer with their magic. Under their pressure, under their tight grips, I could make out every bone of mine.

As my head slowly turned around, the witch already waited to meet my eyes.

Genevieve de Chauvette simply glared at me, raised a brow and turned around with a cold grace to leave. She wouldn't bother with me.

"Genevieve- you must!", I hissed as one guard pulled at my bun.

"You mustn't use that word towards me, parasite." Genevieve's voice was shaking with disgust.

They pulled me back, too far away from the one who started it all – my whole world.

I had recognized her instantly – the similarity to the picture back home was uncanny.

The red curls, the light brown eyes, the same nose –refined chin and her sharp look. She wasn't pale like her skin on the picture – nor was she any more fragile or firmer than I was.

In person, Genevieve was so much more impressive – and imposing.

Her shade of red resembled blood, her light brown eyes weren't warm at all – but freezing cold. Her features were so much pointier, so much sterner.

I never mustered the courage to look too long into her eyes. I had the feeling she would see right through me.

Even her aura – I felt it, even though I was a lifeless creature – and it was giving me the creeps.

This woman brought destruction among her every step.

All in all, this impressive woman stood in front of me. and for a silly moment, for a hesitant second, I was overcome by her level-headed aura when I spotted her walking down the uneven muddy street. The pompous dress, the unmistakable de Chauvette features, the smell of storm and death magic.