Silas had kept the news to himself for the entire day, instructing Ada and Katherine not to inform Arabella before he did.
The vampire waited until she took the last bite of her dinner then went knocking on her door.
"Co with ," was the first thing he said after greetings and pleasantries.
Arabella quietly followed in his steps which led the two of them back to his chambres. The knot that had ford amongst her guts upon noting his serious tone continued to swell, reaching its zenith once she stood inside his room.
Unsure what to do with herself, the young woman’s feet occupied a single floor tile and refused to move. Only her fingers twiddled while her irises searched for a comforting zone to land and stay on. Anything that wasn’t his figure.
The still unfinished canvas leaning against his desk assud that role. Even after Silas had started speaking, her eyes stuck to that wooden board like there was no tomorrow.
"Have you done any research concerning the old scriptures?" he put an end to the hefty silence between them.
"No, we rely read poems today," she shook her head.
"Right," his voice carried that sharp edge as though none of the words they exchanged were the destination, but simply a milepost or a steppingstone he needed to slide by before getting to the heart of things, "I am afraid I have unpleasant news to share,"
And there it was, the shift in tone, starting with a short sigh. The rest was very subtle but noticeable enough when contrasted with the previous.
Arabella spotted change in his deanor as well. His once harsh outlook seed just as hardened but inconsistent.
"I understand," she nodded, "I am all ears,"
Without further dallying, Silas cut to the chase, "The crown prince of Lustris will be joining us for the next tribute auction,"
He held his breath after that, in anticipation for her reaction.
It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Her eyes widened very shortly before resuming their previous stance and besides a deep inhale, Arabella let nothing else on.
Only a week before that conversation she’d have rushed out, tears streaming down her cheeks to hear those news, but they were past that ti.
Her heart did drop but it was soon caught on the tangled web that made her guts.
"I see," she exhaled.
Silas saved the ridiculous questions as the drumming in her chest told whether she was alright or otherwise.
"It won’t change a thing for you since you won’t be present at the ball," he took a step closer to her.
She remained in place, her eyes flickering between the canvas and his figure before ending their journey on the floor, "I suppose I don’t have to be,"
The distant look on her prompted him to ask, "What’s the aning of that?"
"I was rely pondering my options," she started, gazing at her twiddling fingers as though they were the most interesting thing in the world, "To face him or to hide,"
"You may still face him at another ti. It doesn’t have to happen this month or the next,"
"You are right," she nodded while still staring down.
The vampire stepped even closer to her then placed his own fingers under her chin and gave a gentle push upwards. In a way, forcing her to make eye contact.
When that happened, Silas didn’t know whether to celebrate or hate the fruit of his doing.
As that thin veil he’d noticed that sa morning gobbled more of her eyes, further dulling their sheen.
On one hand, having her suffer that curse did not please him in the slightest, but on the other hand... It ant he’d perhaps get to see another side of her. One that sought him out and looked forward to seeing him. One that smiled and laughed with him and only him.
As those thoughts swirled his mind, Arabella took the opportunity and raised her chin, leaning out of his grasp.
"Will that be all, Master?" upon noticing his expression, she corrected herself, "Silas,"
It almost seed as though she was evading him and after all the progress he believed he’d made with her. It was a strike to the guts like no other received before.
"I’d like you to stay," he spun around and made his way towards his carving desk, "I want to hear so of the poems you found today,"
Without another word, Arabella walked over to the empty lounge chair that stared back at her that whole ti.
It was as cushy and soft as it was before but the cold of it felt different against her skin.
As a matter of fact, the entire room was void of the familiarity and coziness it once held. Despite there being no change at first glance.
The candles still flickered, their amber dance reflecting upon every surface. Moonlight offered a gleam that transcended any other source could create.
"Today, I’ve co across a poem that spoke of the passion born between two souls," her hand lightly grazed the cushion of the chair beneath her.
"Did you stumble upon it or did you gravitate towards that subject matter for a particular reason?" he asked without turning around, even though he was itching to see the look on her face when answering that question.
"A bit of both, I suppose," one of her shoulders shrugged, "But I can’t say I know the exact reason that steered ,"
"You may go on with it then. I will-" Silas stopped mid-sentence.
In fact, he halted all movent and looked back at the door as though expecting a knock to land.
But it never did.
Instead, the vampire stood off his stool and made his way outside, "Remain here. I will return in a few,"
With that, he left her among the sculptures as soul companions. Arabella leaped to conclusions of her own about his sudden exit, but all in all, her mind chose to linger on his previous question.
What made her turn to poems of such topics in the first place?
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