"Are you feeling better?" Penelope asked her daughter.
She was sitting on the edge of Cora's four poster bed trying not to focus on their depressing surroundings or think about the home they had left. These rooms were entirely too big. And dark. And dusty. It was unlikely that anyone had even been in them for centuries.
"Yes, I feel better. It's gone now. I don't see them," Cora sighed and crossed her legs where she was sitting in the center of the bed. "I can't believe the counting actually helped."
"What are mothers for?" Penelope chuckled and turned to face where Cora was sitting. "Do you want to talk about what you saw?"
She knew what it was like to see the Veiled, because up until recently she had been seeing it her whole life. That was part of what having the fae genes involved, and that was how they were able to draw energy from their surroundings. But it sounded like what Cora was seeing now was something much different than what was typical. The fact that she had said she didn't see "them" anymore was strange in and of itself.
Penelope had never seen people in the Veiled. It was mostly auras and energy and intentions. She could sometimes see things she created as well like invisible structures, but never people. Not that she could recall.
"I don't think I want to talk about it," Cora shook her head. "If I do, it may come back."
She shivered just thinking about it. It was hard knowing that there were things like that around them now. Who knows what kind of dark figures or strange creatures were haunting this place? And it probably wasn't something her mother would want to know about anyway. Sometimes ignorance was indeed bliss.
"What made the Veiled spring up so suddenly anyway? You don't usually have a problem suppressing it," Penelope frowned. It had been a really long time since Cora had a problem like this that required help in taming it.
"It was when… when I asked Grayson how they selected the candidates for the death by desire," she said, thinking back about the carriage ride on the way here.
The stupid carriage ride. Before moving here, she always thought carriages seemed so romantic and charming, but they were actually terribly uncomfortable. Why didn't the vampires get some badass cars if they needed vehicles to travel? Access to technology like that was definitely not the problem. But for some reason they chose not to include that part of the human world here. They better at least treat their horses well.
Penelope hummed with her own suspicion. It was certainly possible that those vampires who Cora had been asked to use her gift for had not expressly asked to be given life. When it came to the royal family, nothing would surprise her.
"Maybe they are choosing them from their enemies," Cora whispered. "Or maybe these are alternatives to torture."
"Being given life as a punishment rather than torture?" Penelope considered it. "It is not a stretch to imagine it. Although I would take life over torture any day."
"Maybe they are given a chance for a lesser sentence," Cora thought aloud. "How am I supposed to feel about that, mom? My abilities here are being used as a punishment. I thought I was helping people… or vampires."
"Well, I'm not sure there is much you can do about it," Penelope sighed. "But I guess it depends on how big of a problem you imagine it is to give vampires life. It doesn't seem like such a bad thing even if they are not wanting it. It's life," she shrugged. "Life is beautiful."
"You don't think the royals are just turning around and killing them in the most horrendous way possible afterward?" Cora's eyes darkened.
Her mother sighed heavily again. "It's possible. It certainly is."
"That I have a problem with it," she replied, hugging her legs to her chest.
To think that she was possibly being used as an instrument to kill people, even if they were vampires… that was awful. It made her stomach twist with a growing sick feeling that she knew was unlikely to go away now. She didn't want to be a part of that. What she did—the life she was able to give—it was sacred. It was a gift, and that is how she viewed it. That was how she was able to even do it to begin with. Her intention for creating life centered around how magnificent of a blessing it was.
Penelope gazed at her beautiful, gifted daughter huddled in the center of the bed troubled by these new thoughts. She reminded Penelope so much of her father that it made her heart ache. Cora had fair skin and dark black hair like a starless night, but her eyes were a brilliant blue.
Her father didn't have blue eyes. Like most vampires, his were a deep black. Neither she nor Zagan could figure out where Cora had gotten those blue eyes of hers. Even Zane's eyes were black. It was only Cora with the exceptional electric blues.
"I'm not sure you should worry yourself about that right now," Penelope finally told her. "If these are vampires who are forced by the royal family into accepting life, there is nothing you can do about it. It would be best just to… to not think about it."
Cora's eyes shot to hers with a hard glare. She was just supposed to not think about it? When these people could be sentenced to a death that they did not wish for and that she was an instrumental part of? If that were the case, then no wonder everyone here was terrified of her!
"Mom," she scoffed. "Really? How am I supposed to not think about it? I have to do it today. Today!"
Penelope watched as Cora jutted her chin out in that defiant way that made her heart ache for Zagan. Goddess, she looked so much like her father it hurt.
"That's right. You have to do it today, so try not to think about it. Otherwise you are going to drive yourself crazy. And what are you going to do about it anyway? Tell Her Royal Highness Queen Ambrosia of Gray Vale no?"
"Maybe."
Penelope sank her head into her hands. "Goddess help us."