THE VAMPIRE PRINCE OF SYVERIA spent the rest of the morning following his training in the small library section of his bedchamber. Sitting on the upholstered wooden chair beside the study table, he spent hours until late noon scrolling through pages, tumbling through books and searching for something.
Something that could lead him to the Wytcher.
The entire army of the Summerlands had been searching for Gryther for weeks, yet the man continued to evade them. Marsil knew the man had powerful magic but he doubted it was his sorcery that kept him hidden. A man like Gryther was intelligent; had to be if he'd succeeded in crossing the Blood Woods. For him to elude the trained officers searching for him, he had to have known about their prowess. And also the study of the land...
Which was why Marsil was currently searching for a map. A map of the entire continent and it's borders. The closet thing he found was some old scripted writing of some villages and ports of Syveria. It turned out his library was not as informative as he'd initially thought.
He needed a bigger library, with more books. With his superhuman speed, it only took a few seconds to read an entire book, and several of such books lay open at his feet, spread in all manner of disarray.
He still hadn't found a map though.
Marsil was going through the lowest shelf of the small aisle affixed to the bedroom's wall when three light raps sounded on the door. He ignored it. A moment later, it came again. Marsil sighed from his kneeling position.
"Who is it?" he called to the door.
"Your Grace," a light voice called back from behind. He noticed the voice wasn't his sister's, and he heaved another sigh. He couldn't deal with her. Not yet.
"Come in," he rumbled.
The door swept open with a glide and a girl servant walked in. In her hands was a silver tray with a single purse of blood on its shiny surface.
His afternoon blood feed.
In the past week, most of the handmaidens had seen his face so he didn't bother to put on his mask. Arlon however ensured that they were the most trusted of his castle servants.
"Your father requested I bring this to you. He noticed you didn't attend lunch," the girl said, lowering the tray to a nearby stool.
Marsil looked to the window and spotted the sun winding down the sky. It was past noon. Marsil turned back to the maid.
"Please tell the King I appreciate the gesture. Thank you," he added. The girl blushed a little, gave a small nod and quickly hurried away.
Marsil had just lowered his head back to the books sprawled on the carpeted floor when another knock sounded. He growled low and was about to call the person in when the door swung open, without permission. There were only a few people who had such effrontery to walk into his room without an invitation.
He lifted up his eyes and met with Esabel. The very person he didn't want to see, mostly for reasons he didn't want to contemplate. Her blue eyes levelled on his and he looked back down at his books. Marsil prayed she would take the hint and leave. If she did, she didn't show it.
Esabel walked in and silently closed the door behind her.
"I saw the serving girl scurrying away at my arrival," she began. "She looked a bit bothered. You already make them swoon."
Marsil didn't lift his head from his books. Neither did he reply. Esabel's voice was lilting and he could feel her eyes on his profile. He wished to admit that it didn't stir something in him, but it did. Annoyingly so.
"Imagine what she would do if she saw the rest of you..." She trailed off for a moment, then added. "...naked, like I have."
Marsil grinded his teeth and she chuckled.
"Easy, brother. I only came to see if you were alright. You didn't dine with us and I was worried."
At this, Marsil lifted up his head, standing to his feet. Esabel was a bit flustered by his height and his piercing silver eyes as he faced her.
"You don't need to be. I'm fine," he replied.
A silence stretched for a while as he began arranging the books back on the shelf. Esabel walked the small distance to him. Grabbing a pile, she started with another shelf.
"You don't look fine," she said.
"I am," Marsil growled.
"Well, you don't need to be so gravelly about it," she frowned. "Besides, I know you missed lunch because you're avoiding me."
Marsil's fingers stilled on the book in his hands and he turned, giving her a look. She smirked at him and continued.
"I can feel our desire whenever we're together. You feel it too. If you would just reach down and..."
"Enough!" Marsil boomed and Esabel shivered, the books rattling in her hand. "You will not speak anything of whatever you think is happening between us... Ever. I am your brother. Nothing else."
Without another word, he looked back to the aisle. Spotting all the books arranged back neatly, he turned and walked away.
Esabel turned back from the library and spotted him seated on the bed. He looked so beautiful in the golden evening rays spilling in through the drapes. His silver hair caught the sunlight and became haloed. He lifted his eyes to her and they sparkled white.
She was aware of her body aching for him, but he was right. They were family. Esabel covered the small distance to the bed and sat before him at the edge.
"I'm sorry," he said before she could say anything.
Esabel was visibly baffled. She couldn't help the pink that crawled up her neck. Did her brother just apologize to her?
Vampire of the North?
Slayer of the Titan? The Legend of Silverheel? This beautiful Prince she got to live with. He just apologized. Esabel had never felt more like kissing a man in her entire life. She didn't though.
"I'm sorry too," Esabel said. "I shouldn't have brought up our weak moments... although I think you are still pretty hard right now."
Marsil growled and she chuckled. She spotted a faint smile twitching his lips and her eyes lit up. He rarely smiled. His eyes were intense on her and she knew if she didn't say something soon, she would end up crawling into his lap.
"So...erm... What were you looking for in the books?" she stammered. He remained silent for a while before replying.
"A map."
Esabel squinted at him.
"A map? Why?"
"I just need to enlighten myself on the summerlands. I was pretty tied up before..."
Esabel smiled at his double entendre. Marsil was surprising her everyday. Who knew he could be funny? And yes, she knew a few gothic details about his dark past; chained in that fucking underground prison. Lord Cranmer was a prick but now she hated him even more.
"Well, maps are coveted in this kingdom," Esabel replied. "I've studied them though. If you tell me what you want to find, then maybe I could he—"
"No," Marsil growled. One word, and back to his brooding self. Esabel knew she had pushed him and quickly tried a different approach to soften him back up.
"I do know where you could find one."
Marsil's pale eyes shined silver.
"Where?"
"First, promise I'll go with you."
Marsil frowned.
"It's fine. I'll just have a servant tell me."
"They won't know the exact location. It's a secure area, a place with the intensive cartography I'm sure you're looking for. All the lands, rivers, villages, ports..."
"Fine," the Prince growled. "I'll take you, once I'm sure it's safe. Now tell me." Esabel's eyes widened a little as she spoke.
"The kind of map you seek can only be found in one place. A place called the Vale of Wails."
Marsil didn't like Esabel requesting to accompany him on his quest. Neither did he like the name of the location. It sounded bleak and ominous. But he needed to find the Wytcher, so Vale of Wails it was. He leaned in and listened carefully as she described the place...