Elowen scrawled the final line in the heavy ledger with irritation lining every stroke of her pen. Her ankle ached faintly, her back protested from sitting too long, and her mood- already terrible- had only worsened.
Not because of the work.
But because of her.
Seraphine.
The beautiful pureblood with moonlight eyes and a tongue like dagger. Elowen had wanted to throw the ink bottle at her smug. But she hadn't. Because she was tired. And because, despite the venom, there had been- an atom of warmth buried deep in the woman's tone.
An almost- sisterly flicker.
Still, it didn't help.
Especially not when you were limping around a mansion built for night creatures that didn't bruise, bleed, or bother with rest.
She sighed, pushing her chair back.
Just then, the door creaked open and in came a young girl carrying a silver tray. The scent of warm food floated in, rich with spice and nostalgia. Elowen's stomach answered before her mouth could.
The girl – young, maybe her age, with warm brown skin, silky black hair tied in a neat bun, and downcast eyes, apron tightly secured to her waist- walked carefully toward her and bowed, setting the tray on the table.
"This is for you, milady," she said shyly.
Elowen blinked. Milady? Was she hearing things?
She looked at the dish and almost gasped.
Stewed pheasant, roasted yam wedges drizzled in honey glaze, and… her favorite vegetable broth. Elowen didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She hadn't tasted this for months. This dish was rare even in Rosebury's finer inns.
"Thank you so much dear." she said softly, smiling. "What's your name, dear?"
The girl looked up slowly, surprised anyone in this house would ask that.
"Ben… Benedicta, Milady" she murmured, cheeks pinking.
Elowen had already started digging in, her mood thawing slightly with each bite.
"That's a wonderful name," she said between spoonfuls. "My name is Elowen."
Benedicta gasped, eyes wide. "Milady,.. I can't. I can't call you by your name, please…"
"And why is that, Benedicta?" Elowen asked gently.
The girl just stared down her feet, lips pressed together. Silent.
Downcast.
Elowen looked at her direction, but the maid remained silent.
Moments later, the air in the room shifted.
Cold. Heavy.
Tomas had entered.
The butler's presence was as silent and foreboding as ever. Benedicta didn't even need to see his face. She bowed swiftly and all but ran from the room.
"Charming," Elowen muttered, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "You terrify your own staff."
Tomas, of course, said nothing.
He remained at the far corner of the room like a well- tailored statue.
"Are you done with the Lord's schedule, Milady?" he finally asked.
"The asshole?" Elowen muttered under her breath.
He heard it.
"I am, Sire," she said aloud, clearing her throat with fake dignity.
Tomas arched a brow faintly, the closest thing he ever gave to visible amusement.
She returned to eating her meal slowly, grateful for the meal even if her pride whispered she shouldn't be. She cast glances at Tomas from time to time, confused by his unspoken watchfulness.
He remained silent. But she swore his eyes flicked towards the window.
Elowen leaned back after the last bite, finally full, though her mind hadn't calmed one bit. She was now a bit worried.
Where had he gone?
The ever- smirking, ever- commanding Julian. Out into the night, like a bat with secrets. She tried to imagine what someone like him would even do during his evening escapades. Perhaps, office investigations or slick acts.
"Goes out late too?" she muttered to herself.
Tomas smirked again from the shadows.
He laughed inwardly, so the human did care, although stubborn, she had a passionate heart.
Elowen stood, stretching her limbs carefully. "Thank you for the dinner Sire. I'll be on my way, it's quite late."
Tomas gave a slow nod but said nothing.
She walked toward the main wing, her steps slower now that exhaustion had truly set in. reaching the great door, she frowned at the road ahead. How in the world would she even find a carriage at this hour?
She turned- only to jump in surprise.
The butler Tomas was already there, standing by a sleek carriage at the base of the steps. His speed always unnerved her. She was still getting used to the eerie silence of the vampire movement.
"Sire…!" she gasped.
"Lord Ravenshade asked that we give you a ride home," he said curtly, gesturing to the open door of the carriage.
Elowen blinked and exhaled softly. She couldn't help it.
"Thank the stars," she whispered, relieved.
She stepped into the plush interior. Velvet seats. Dark wood trim. A faint lavender scent that didn't match Julian at all. The door shut, and the wheels began to roll over the cobbled path, the lanterns flickering as they rode into the quiet town.
Unbeknownst to her, a shadow watched from the west balcony.
High above, Seraphine leaned against the carved stone rail, fingers idly tracing a silver ring on her finger. She had heard Tomas's words as clearly.
"Lord Ravenshade asked that we give you a ride home."
So. The devil did care.
She smiled faintly to the wind.
But the smile faltered quickly as it came,Just like Eldhollow's present weather, it became still, darker and stormy. It would definitely rain tonight.
Seraphine's smile faltered quickly because she remembered…