"Evil creatures don't exist, only evil people that turn into evil creatures exist. And I highly doubt you're one of those." He held her hand and he smiled.
"How did you beco a vampire? Or were you born like this?" she asked, but her question seed to have shaken him. His smile faded, probably recalling of a mory he didn't want to rember.
"I'm sorry," Roselyn murmured, seeing his gaze been lowered down. He swallowed that negative feeling that ford a lump into his throat and t her gaze again. "It's fine," his response was frank.
It took him a few seconds to reply to her curiosity. "I wasn't born like this." He limited himself to reveal that confession in a low voice and the lady didn't dare to ask additional information.
"Do you want to try again?"
Roselyn nodded, taking so deep breaths to ntally prepare for what she was going to do.
It was a lot to deal with, ntally and emotionally, even though knowing she had him by his side was lightening the weight on her shoulders, that was probably one of the few things they had in common.
Roselyn stood up, and he placed his hands once again on her shoulders. "This ti I will be far from you. About 20 ters will separate us. You don't only have to link with but also speak to as you did earlier. This ti there's one obstacle, the distance between us."
"Hmm hmm." She nodded when she felt a wave of wind brushing her away as he teleported himself further.
Roselyn did the sa thing she had done earlier and the results were identical. She successfully linked with him, but this ti she was having difficulties to ntally speak to him. It was like she couldn't find him in the surrounding. She felt she was walking in the dark, with her arms spread trying to find the right direction.
"I can't," Roselyn then complained in a resigned voice. John didn't reply, leading her to keep focusing her energies. She reminded him saying he would stand 20 ters away, which ant that, to reach him it would take her approximately about 30 steps.
She pictured herself taking thirty steps toward a frontal direction, and then she imagined finding him and speaking to him.
Her energies reduced drastically,making her feel dizzy. Despite this, she continued.
"John?" She pictured himself calling him and this ti he heard her voice, but it was trailing off. She clenched her fists and focused a bit more.
"John!" Roselyn heard his voice clear now but a second after she felt her body failing her efforts causing her to fall on the floor.
Her legs were trembling. She was warn out like if she had run a marathon.
"You did it," John exclaid.
His voice was low when it echoed in her mind. She saw his blurry figure reaching her.
The last thing she rembered was him raising her up from the ground.
John laid her on one of the benches of his yard and placed his hand on her forehead. He closed his eyes and tried to heal her by transfering his energies inside her. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed her too much.
In so minutes she woke up, feeling recovered when her energies ca back.
"Did I do it?" Roselyn asked as soon as she opened her eyes.
"You did it. You did great." John reassured her. His voice was tired. One thing he kept secret from Roselyn was that his animal al based diet was preventing him from all the energies that his supernatural body required. Despite this, he refused to kill innocent people and feed from their blood. He promised his father that he won't hurt innocent people, although occasionally the stimulus was strong. When his overdeveloped senses perceived blood around him, he had to concentrate to resist to the temptation.
"We should go to eat sothing now," he said as he stood up and took her by arm leading her to the dining room. Maids followed the couple and when they deduced the room they were heading to the maids' walk rushed to arrive before them to begin to place food on the table.
Maids placed food on the table and poured the usual red liquid into John's glass. John drank in one gulp and quickly poured so more to drink it up once again.
Then he cut the at and ate it. It was the first ti Roselyn saw him eat.
John was raffinate in the way he ate. He was eating food with eagerness, but it was like he took the ti to taste each bite. When it ca to drinking, it was the opposite; he seed he was challenged to finish the drink in the minor ti possible.
"Here's a letter from Lord Victor." A servant said, handing the letter to John, who opened it and skimd it quickly.
"Abigail and Victor are inviting us to their wedding." He summarized what he read and Roselyn's lips curved up.
"I'm so happy for them. She deserved a good man like him," Roselyn comnted. John's jaw tilted before clearing his voice.
"You disagree with ?" the lady asked.
John glanced up to her. "No, I don't. I just don't have a good relationship with my cousin." He replied with the most obvious lie. He felt guilty for having lied to Roselyn, Abigail was her sister, and she deserved to know, but he didn't want to preoccupy her.
He took a long breath, hoping she would never find out the secret he kept.
The old maid entered the room and looked at them, puzzled.
"So, are you an official couple now?" She asked, her raspy voice broke the silence.. Her eyes darted between the couple, raising an eyebrow.
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