DAWN.
Rafael had shown me to Azrael's room, given me a few tips, and then left me to do my job. With Azrael absent, I was able to inspect the room freely and in peace. As I stepped out of his chambers, I noticed the door to the next room was slightly ajar.
Quietly, I walked toward it, intending to shut it only to discover the room was a disaster.
I stood outside, looking in.
Pieces of shattered glass and ceramic were strewn across the floor— a very obvious sign that Dragos had been responsible. I'd heard his muffled yells earlier while I was in Azrael's room, and now I was staring at the aftermath.
It turned out to be Darcia's quarters and I quickly put two and two together, realizing that Dragos had likely gone to confront her.
The wreckage around the room was proof of what had gone down.
Quickly, I went downstairs to the pantry next to the kitchen, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and hurried back upstairs. Everyone seemed occupied, so instead of calling a staff to handle the mess, I decided to take care of it myself. I also saw it as a chance to get on Darcia's good side. Maybe if she saw me going out of my way to tidy up her room—which wasn't part of my job, she'd like me more.
I stepped back into the room and started to clean up the mess carefully to avoid any cuts from the sharp fragments.
Darcia was seated on a chair, staring out of the window, lost in thought.
After a few moments of stifling tension, I spoke up to break the silence, unable to endure it any longer.
"Lord Dragos has quite a temper, doesn't he?"
"Indeed" she replied briefly.
I swept some shards of glass into the dustpan "I hope you're not hurt, ma'am"
The matriarch shook her head and gazed at me. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, and I felt a pang of pity for her. Being a single mother was no easy feat.
"I am fine" she responded.
I stopped sweeping, my hands resting on the handle of the broom. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to provoke him. If I knew he was going to flare up over what I said, I'd have kept my mouth shut"
"He gets that way" she responded, sighing. "Flaring up over nothing. We replace glass tables and ship in new furniture here almost every day"
I heaved a sigh of relief, on realizing my job was still safe.
Darcia arose, smiling lightly "And I wonder where all my money's going to"
A small smile crept across my face.
Her gaze dropped to the broom in my hand. "I can always call someone else to handle that," she said, referring to the sweeping, but I shook my head in objection.
"Never mind, ma'am. It's fine"
"Alright then, but be careful around that glass, it must not cut you" Her expression had turned strict, her voice, serious.
"Yes ma'am. I will"
Darcia sat down again, and crossed her legs elegantly, her gaze directed at me "You included in your letter that you plan on sponsoring yourself to college"
I gave a single nod. "That's right, ma'am"
The letter Darcia referred to was the one I had written when applying for the job. There was no interview for the position, instead, a straightforward condition was set, and that was to express the reasons for applying for the job via email.
I had answered with all sincerity, stating my need for the money to cater for my mother's illness and my pursuit of higher education.
"You have no support around you?" She asked.
I shook my head in response "My father's been out of the picture a long time ago and the rest of our family haven't kept in touch with us"
"I am sorry to hear that"
"Thank you, Mrs. Vlad"
She said nothing else and I continued with my duty in silence, leaving the room without a single shard of glass in place.
Soon, night fell and I tossed around in bed, a bit uncomfortable. My room was richly decorated, a little too much for the status I held in the house but that wasn't the reason for my lack of sleep.
It was my first night away from my mum's side, and the house was strange as well as the family that lived in it.
They all looked pale like they were suffering from some blood disease. Well, except for Dragos who looked very healthy.
The Vlads were rich and powerful people and many folks from Blue Cove talked about them. They were philanthropists whose company gave to the poor and funded charities but people often wondered why they kept such a low profile despite owning one of the largest wine companies in the world, along with other enterprises.
Their excuse for rarely attending high-profile events was that they weren't cut out for the social scene.
I was starting to have an inkling of why. A good part of it, I was convinced, had to do with their paleness.
Despite all their wealth, they looked sick, as though something deeper was affecting them.
Rolling out of bed, I slipped on my flip-flops and ventured out to the kitchen where I could make myself a cup of milk to help with my sleeping problem.
I opened the door gently and crept out to the wide, well-furnished kitchen. Although it wasn't an ancient house, the architecture was modeled to emulate styles of the olden days. Its decor, almost Victorian.
I was on my way back to the room with the cup of milk in hand when a voice startled me.
"You should be more careful around here at night"
I gasped, taken by surprise, the glass of milk nearly falling from my hand.
Slowly, I turned to see someone standing by the window, the soft, ethereal glow of the moon bathing him in light and illuminating his form. It could've been anybody, but his nearly whitish hair gave away his identity, as well as his voice.
"Lord Dragos. I-I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep so I thought a glass of milk could help"
His head turned to face me, his eyes more golden than ever.
I thought he looked sad.
"Can you not sleep? Do I make you one as well? A glass of milk" I asked, eager to make amends for causing him to flare up earlier on.
Somehow, I believed I was the cause of his anger. I believed, in my nervous state I'd said words that left room for misinterpretation. Hence, his furious reaction.
Dragos didn't respond, he remained silent, and I stood there waiting to be dismissed when suddenly, he started to come in my direction, only to stop when he was a hair'sbreadth away.
"Don't move" he said quietly. It wasn't just a request, it was a demand. An order. Yet, it didn't feel harsh. It felt almost like a seduction.
His fingers brushed the side of my neck, and I found my body leaning towards him for more, though it flustered me.
Why was he touching me? Why was he reaching out to me in such… tender manner? Why did it feel like he wanted something from me?
Not that I didn't enjoy it, but why? Especially when he had been hostile to me that morning.
Dragos looked into my eyes, his pupils flaring, expanding unnaturally, and I found it a little strange. Disturbing. Perhaps something was wrong.
His golden irises were expanding, the brown flecks darkening, almost like some sort of chemical reaction was going on.
"Be still" he said again, but with a firmer voice, almost like he could read the confused thoughts racing through my mind.
His irises expanded again and I gasped, moving away "Lord Dragos, are you alright?"
He looked shocked and frowned.
"Your eyes," I said, my voice slightly raised in panic. "They're..."
Suddenly, Dragos stumbled back like he'd been slapped, looking away from me quickly. "What about my eyes?" He asked in a low tone.
"They were... I don't know. It almost looked like they were..." I stopped to gather my thoughts "Sir, I know I might sound a little insane, but it looked like they were changing strangely..."
Dragos shook his head and rubbed against his eyes "Probably some sort of reflection"
"No, I think…"
As I attempted to step forward, he held out a hand to stop me. "Go to your room, Dawn, and keep your doors locked. You are to never come out at night unless you are summoned, is that understood?"
"Y-yes" I replied, a bit confused, hurrying back to my room.
Somehow I seemed to be more taken with the thoughts of how his finger felt against my neck than with the strange ways his eyes acted and the statement he had made, which sounded like I was in a home full of serial killers.
I couldn't resist stealing a glance back, only to see him still watching me with an uncomfortable gaze. As I hurried back to my room, I was unable to shake the feeling that something was indeed terribly wrong with this household.
"You should be more careful around here at night?"
"Keep your doors locked?"
What had Dragos meant by that?
I closed my door softly behind me and locked it as he had instructed, my back leaning against it as I caught my breath.
And he had been so close to me. So...close.
But why?
Slowly, I walked further into the room, setting the glass of milk down on the bedside table and sinking onto the bed, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
He'd been shirtless under the robe, the memory of his chest and a slight hint of his abs lingering in my mind.
I shook my head vigorously, mentally chiding myself for getting distracted, but even as I chastised myself for thinking of his touch, I couldn't shake the memory of it or the strange danger it seemed to carry. Especially his eyes.