Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)

30 - Chapter XXX: Spoil the Child

The East Wing. 7:09 pm.

When Reinette woke the next night, all trace of lavender had been removed from her room, a bowl of vinegar placed in each corner and beside her bed to eliminate the scent. She sat up too quickly and the need for blood went to her head. The Count of Monte Cristo was open on her lap. Picking up the book, she brought it close to her face and breathed once before closing it. She had not imagined it. The petals of saffron were still nestled between its pages and another memory had been added to her blood. It was the first flower she had smelled after they left the North, her mentor taking her south for a gathering of seers. She remembered waking at night, her nose fascinated by this scent that had come on board. Saffron-growers transporting their goods from an island in the Mediterranean. A good memory. Warm.

More awake now, she set the book on her bedside table and gathered the blanket around her shoulders, dragging it from the bed with her, looking to her pendant-watch for the time. Twenty after seven. She had forty minutes until the tutor arrived. On her desk, there was a covered tray bearing her morning meal, an embossed porcelain bowl filled with blood. Her chemise, nightgown, and drawers were clean and folded, the lack of staining a testament to the presence of bleach in the household. The impression that Rena had been there moments before, the clothes only recently ironed, the blood still steaming when she sat down to break her fast. Washing her hands afterwards, she donned the undergarments without suffering a single red smudge. From the wardrobe, she selected a navy blue skirt with a small bustle, pairing it with an off-white shirt, high in the neck with the pendant-watch laid over top. She laced up her boots, deciding it would present a strong front for a lycan tutor if she were seen in full attire. She then walked to the bathroom, kneeling by the bronze basin and looking purposefully into her reflection.

The sight did not bolster her confidence. Nothing had changed. Her face was as wrinkled as the night she had left that monastery. Her cheeks were sunken, her neck a gathering of tendons and sinew. Only her hair showed some of the time that had passed, each strand falling almost two inches from where it grew from her scalp. Faster than a human, but slower than a vampire in the prime of life. It would be a few more months before she would be pleased with its length. Holding her hand up to her forehead, she smoothed the strands back...and then forward again. They would not fall as they should. Compelled to make some kind of choice, she picked up the ivory comb and smoothed as much as she could forward, drawing a part above her right eye. For the final touch, she pinned her veil behind her ears and stood, turning away from the basin. More confident now that she was in shadow again. Returning to the bedroom, she took a seat, the pendant-watch in hand, content to wait until this mystery tutor arrived.

...o...o...o...

The London Den. Lower Levels. 7:49 pm.

At precisely that time, Lucian was rising from his chair, standing before a crowd of exactly one hundred and eleven souls, including children. They were the residents of the London Den, those who lived beneath the surface of the Kerr estate. Soldiers, runts, and children. Most of them dressed as labourers, about a third fashioned as upper-middle class and gentry. What would seem as a class difference was only clothing in this hall, for all were considered equal in a Gathering of the People. All could bring their concerns to the table. He raised a hand, drawing them into silence, banishing the immediate outcry that had met his declaration of Reinette's presence in the den.

"I recognise your concern," he said quietly, forcing them to lean in. "...however, I can assure you, our guest poses little threat to our way of life. She is an exile, and by her cooperation, she represents a tool by which we can increase our hold in this continuing war." He had rehearsed that line in front of the mirror...twice before dusk.