Page 6 of Elegy of Twilight
Alone again, I leaned against the wall, staring up at the frolicking cherubs painted on the ceiling. They were carefree and naked with rosy cheeks, dancing in a garden of red blossoms and pink petals. I pinched myself. Why had I allowed myself to be bullied into being a decoy? Why had I volunteered yet again?
It clearly hadn’t worked, but some part of me wanted to see him again. The nameless man who’d kissed me as if he meant it.
I gave myself a shake. I had to forget him. He was a scoundrel, the vampire king, after all, and it was likely he greeted all his meals with such passion.
The idea of him kissing another vexed me. Crossing my arms, I headed toward the kitchens.
The pattering of feet came from behind me, and then a sing-song voice belted out, “Lucia!”
I spun around, and a grin split my face. “Edith, you’re back.”
Edith had a moon-round face, hazel eyes, and thick brown hair she always wore in a braid. A spray of freckles still covered her light brown skin. While I’d lived at the abbey my entire life, Edith had arrived when she was five, grumpy and furious at being left an orphan. Eventually, her anger at her fate faded, and we became fast friends, growing up together as mischievous children before taking the vow to become priestesses.
While I enjoyed cultivating the gardens, Edith was a midwife and had spent the past week in the village, assisting with a birth and staying with the family a few days afterward to help while the new mother regained her strength.
We embraced, and I squeezed her tight, as though a week had been a month.
“Where were you last night?” Edith looped her arm in mine and guided us toward the kitchen. “I stopped by your room after I got back, but you musthave been out.”
“Oh.” I gave a nervous laugh, fumbling for some kind of half-truth. “I went for a walk.”
“In the gardens, I hope.” Edith shook her head. “I know there have been no attacks on the village in the past week, but it’s too bold to hope the vampires are gone. They’ll strike when we least expect it.”
“I hope not,” I murmured, wishing we weren’t having this particular conversation. “We could do with some peace. Do you ever wonder if maybe, maybe…if we met their leader, he might be reasonable and make a deal with us?”
Edith went quiet, which was one thing I liked about her. She was slow to speak, often thinking over words before interjecting with her wisdom. It was quite a contrast from some of the younger priestesses who said whatever came to mind first.
“It would be ideal if we could come to some kind of agreement,” she said at last. “But I don’t see how. Vampires want blood,ourblood, and I can’t think of anything else they’d want more.”
“But bargains are all about compromise,” I suggested.
Edith frowned. “Yes, but making a vampire compromise by giving up human blood would be like telling the soldiers that instead of meat, we’d only feed them vegetables for the restof their lives.”
I nudged her. “Vegetables are good for you.”
Edith grinned. “A man who fights for a living will always want meat.”
“Fine.” I sighed. She had a point. “Tell me about the village and the family. How was the birth?”
“I’m always grateful when it’s over and the baby is healthy and strong. That little girl had a pair of lungs on her. She hollered so loud we thought she’d wake the dead.” Edith giggled before sobering. “To be honest, I held my breath the entire time. I know vampires can’t cross a threshold without being invited, but the village homes aren’t as strong as the abbey. Sometimes, when the wind blows, I have nightmares about the house falling over or the roof caving in, and then a vampire will be right there, waiting to feast. I know we’re not supposed to live in fear, but. . .I just wish there was something more I could do to stop them.”
I squeezed her arm. “Me too, Edith, me too.”
We were the last two to enter the kitchens, and all the priestesses were seated with bowls of steaming oatmeal and fresh fruit in front of them. The Head Priestess, Merci, nodded to us as we took our seats and folded our hands.
“Sisters,” she began, her voice strong and steady. “Before we begin our morning meditation, I have grave news.”
Pressing my lips, I stared at my oatmeal, wondering if the news related to me.
“There’s been another robbery.”
My head jerked up, questions already forming on my lips. Low murmurs swept through the hall, but Merci held up her hand for silence.
“I have asked the knights to investigate,” she continued. “We’ve posted guards and installed new locks, to no avail. Somehow, the thief keeps sneaking in, and several items from the cellar are gone. Our stocks of food, wine, candles, and even some scrolls from the library are missing. It’s difficult to believe that someone would steal from us, but there we have it. I would ask that each of you be vigilant. If you heard or saw anything out of the ordinary last night, please report it to me. If we all work together, we can stop this from happening again.”
Voices rang out. “Who would steal from us?”
“Who has access?”
