Amory watched the door that his wife had just exited. Without a proper farewell. He knew Velio was becoming troublesome, but taking action would be even more troublesome. He sighed and tried to focus on the documents on his table but he couldn't shake the disturbed feeling that churned through him.
Why had he thirsted for her blood? All blood usually smelt delicious, but hers… hers was something else. Even as he cleaned her wounds he found it nearly impossible to resist the temptation, and again, almost as though a barrier had been built, he couldn't.
If she was truly a witch, then perhaps she had cast a spell that made it impossible for him to drink from her. But Velio had seemed undeterred. Of course, his brother was nothing but unstable.
Noon passed and he was still in his study pondering the recent events. A knock on the door distracted him minimally from his thoughts. "Enter." He called.
The door opened and his brother, Clark, stepped in. He was his leading General and had been on a campaign in the north. Marcham, the country that bordered Nothad in the north, had been making advances and Clark had been effectively pushing them back. By the end of the campaign, Amory and Clark, along with the council, hoped to have Marcham as a new province under Nothad.
"Ah, dear brother. My apologies for missing your wedding and your new wife's coronation. But Marcham's defenses are diminishing and we've cut off their tradelines. We should be receiving their official surrender any week now."
Amory nodded absentmindedly from his seat by the window.
Clark's head tilted in curiosity, "How is married life treating you?" He walked to the cabinet and grabbed two wooden cups and a bottle of liquor; keeping one eye on his quiet older brother. He had known of his brother's infatuation with Princess Mirella since the moment they'd first began writing letters to each other. He figured that Amory would've been spending every waking moment with her once they were married. And that her veil would be removed instantaneously.
Handing Amory the goblet he stared out the window with him. The forest scape was covered with the familiar mists and cold aesthetic that traditionally covered Nothad.
After finishing his drink he set the goblet down and looked back at his brother. "Amory. Are things not going well with her majesty?"
"Things are going just fine."
"Then why did I hear that she still wears the veil of innocence?" Clark asked suspiciously.
Amory glared at the window, "Because she is of no interest to me."
Clark scoffed in disbelief, "Is this not the same Mirella whom you wrote letters to and ventured into Viland to meet in secret?"
His brother scoffed and took a large gulp of his drink, "She's not."
Clark sighed before sitting in the seat opposite Amory by the window. "Brother, people change. And maybe her majesty has changed, but she's still the same woman you chased after. Perhaps you should take some time to get to know each other again."
Clark's contemplative expression quickly morphed to one of bewilderment when his brother burst into laughter.
Amory sobered hastily, his demeanour returning to his usual brooding one. "There is no point." He answered with a look that told Clark to halt in his pressing.
But Clark wanted to fix this relationship that had barely had a chance to begin. It was so perplexing; Princess Mirella had been his brother's all-in-all, the one who could enrapture him. Clark had once followed his brother to one of his rendezvous with the princess and he could see how he felt for her.
The Princess had clearly felt the same, by her coy but shy behaviour.
"And how is there no point?" Clark asked—not missing the warning look in his brother's expression—"This… brother, what happened?"
Amory turned and looked out of the window, resting his chin in his hand and placing his fingers over his lips. "One day you will know. But for now, I have a task for you." He stood and walked to the desk. Retrieving the piece of paper left by his wife he read her hasty handwriting, still neat. He wondered if she would ever learn the native language of the country she was to rule.
He cleared his mind and turned back to face his younger brother, "My wife believes that this maid was behind an assassination attempt four days ago." He handed him the parchment, "If you would like more details then I suggest asking her or her detail, along with the physician."
"Ah! I've been wanting to speak to good ol' Franz. How is he?"
Without raising his eyes, from her other notes detailing her questions about Velio and magic, he answered, "Dead."
Clark scoffed in surprise, "Dead? Why?"
"He may have been a part of the attempt to assassinate my wife. The sleeping draught that he gave her was given to two cats shortly after and they both died within a day."
"How is her majesty still alive then?"
"She was found in time."
Clark paused as he waited for a more detailed explanation, but he knew his brother and knew better than to expect one, "Well… aren't we all grateful for that." He smiled then cleared his throat, "I take it you wish me to investigate this matter and the maid."
"Yes."
Clark bowed, "It will be done, your majesty." He stepped towards the exit when Amory stopped him.
"And keep an eye on our steward as well." He said almost as though it was of no interest to him. But Clark know better; if his brother said something about something, he was interested in it.
"Velio?"
"Yes." He answered in the same tone.
Clark nodded, "Very well, your majesty." And he left out the door.
Amory finally lifted his eyes from the desk and looked back out the window. All of Clark's talk of Mirella had only made him yearn more for her. His spies had reported that she seemed to be ill; she hardly moved around and the curtains were left closed for long periods of time. A thought appeared in his head that maybe she was mourning their relationship. 'Don't worry, my love. We will be together soon enough.'
It was all he wanted. He pushed away the fact that his wife's blood had smelled more tantalizing than any blood he had ever smelled. The question of why he had been so drawn to it was also disregarded as the idea of tasting his beloved's blood became more prevalent in his mind.
He was admittedly curious as to what she found in her research on the creature she believed she saw, but more so on the magic within her blood. She clearly had it. He knew of the age old Oath of the Viland Kings, but evidently, someone had been unfaithful.