Azrael reached out to pull a loose thread from my embroidered blouse. "Tell me, Dawn, are you a smart girl, or are you an example of how looks can be... misleading?" His cold eyes never left mine. "Are you smart enough to match your pretty looks" His gaze once again traveled slowly over my body, and I squirmed under the intensity of his scrutiny "Or are you all beauty and no brains?"
I managed to find my voice, responding, "I'm a smart girl, sir"
A day ago, I had thought Dragos was the most terrifying person I'd ever seen when he yelled at me, but the man in front of me was beyond terrifying.
He hadn't yelled, he had spoken.
He had merely spoken, and yet in those few moments, he had managed to destroy every iota of self-esteem I had. Every hair on my body was raised in absolute horror.
"There is a particular portrait in his room. The portrait of his first love. She's late now." He began to speak, and to my surprise, my interest piqued.
Azrael continued, "The painting is quite hard to miss because it is the only thing he doesn't let gather dust in that darn chamber of his" He paused to look into my eyes "You are to explore the dark corners of that filthy room, find that portrait and dispose of it"
The portrait sounded rather important to Dragos, and I wondered why Azrael wanted it discarded.
"Ah, yes" His face suddenly brightened like an idea had just occurred to him, and he reached into the pocket of his coat to bring out a dagger which he extended to me.
I gasped in surprise "Why do you have a dagger, s-sir?"
He ignored the question, and snapped "Take this"
With a shaky hand, I took the dagger from him.
"Use it to destroy the painting before you get rid of it" He instructed.
My hands trembled as I clutched the dagger tighter "Is Lord Dragos aware of what I'm about to do? The portrait seems like a big deal. It must mean a lot to him"
A sudden silence ensued between us, and I immediately regretted asking.
His very blue eyes glared into my soul, seeming to melt off my very desire to speak. My very confidence. Seeming to melt…. me.
"Are you questioning me, Dawn?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
I shook my head quickly. "N-no, sir. I just... I don't understand why this is necessary."
"You don't have to understand anything. Your job is not to understand, it's to bloody do as you're told" Azrael snapped.
After a while, he spoke again "I would be very angry with you if you fail, Dawn" he stated, his voice steely "And you wouldn't want to incur my anger"
Azrael then gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and walked away, while I stood there frozen, scared, and insulted.
My heart beat wildly in my chest like I'd just attempted scaling the Himalayas, my sweaty palms still clutching the dagger.
Why couldn't he just carry out the horrid task himself? Why did he have to entrust me with it?
He hated me. That was it. But how could he hate someone he hadn't even gotten to know?
As I tucked the dagger into my back pocket and concealed it with my blouse, I noticed a maid passing by and stopped her.
"Excuse me," I said. "Can you help me with something?"
She turned to face me, her expression polite. "Of course, Miss Carter. What do you need?"
"I'm supposed to cater to Lord Azrael's room, but I don't know where it is," I lied.
I was trying to gather more information on both Vlad brothers but I didn't want to be too direct and risk raising suspicion. A suspicion that could land me in trouble.
"Oh" The maid smiled "His room is upstairs, down the hall. It's the third door on the left" she explained.
"Thank you," I replied. "One more thing... Can you tell me a bit about Lord Dragos and Lord Azrael?" I lowered my tone "As you know, I've only just started here, and I want to make sure I don't do anything to upset them."
The maid hesitated. "Lord Dragos is... a bit withdrawn, I believe. But he can be very temperamental. He spends a lot of time in his room and the orchards..." She trailed off, glancing around suddenly as if worried someone might overhear.
"Rumors have it that since he lost someone very dear to him, he's never been the same." She whispered sadly.
I nodded "And Lord Azrael?"
The maid shivered, growing uncomfortable. "He's worse than Dragos, especially because he's a perfectionist. I try to avoid him as often as I can because his anger issues only make things worse. Just do as he says and be careful around him, miss"
"I will" I replied, gratefully. "Thank you for telling me."
The maid smiled weakly and continued on her way, leaving me alone in the hallway.
After a while, I left for Dragos' room.
†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††
DRAGOS
A few minutes ago, I was having breakfast, conveniently enjoying my meal until Dawn sauntered into the house. She hadn't limped, she hadn't trudged in, she had walked. Immediately, I felt the appetite die on my tongue, especially as my eyes found their way to her ankle, in search of the swelling that was there hours ago.
There was no sign of it, and it was like nothing had happened.
I realized this was starting to become a problem, or rather that it was becoming gradually suspicious.
How does she resist my mind control and then heal incredibly fast in the space of some hours?
What's more, she appeared totally naive about the entire situation—unaware of her abilities. Either she was genuinely oblivious to it all or she was putting on a damn good act.
"First she's immune to my compulsion and now this?" I said, frustratedly jabbing my fork into the stuffed chicken on my plate. "Yesterday, I tested my hypnotic powers on three other staff and it worked. So, why's she an exception? What's so special about her?"
I stabbed the roast chicken again, my agitation growing "It's messing with me, mother. I haven't been this concerned in years"
I slumped back against my chair, letting the fork clatter against the plate.
"I even stopped at father's study poring through his books in search of answers, but so far, I've come up with nothing"
Massaging my temples slowly, I let out a long, deep breath and relaxed.
My father died a long time ago. The generational disease, courtesy of Lysadra's curse had claimed his life when I was eight, but he was a great man.
Andrei Nicole Vlad had been many things.
An explorer. A historian. A scientist.
His journals and library of historical books were all our family had left of him and no matter how many times we moved across the world, we always took all his things along, dedicating a room to him in his absence.
"The swelling on her ankle wasn't pretty, Mother" I continued "At least for a human it should take days or weeks to heal, no matter how minor. Now, I'm starting to doubt she's truly human"
"But what could she be? She's not a vampire, we would've sensed it" My mother replied in a hushed tone, slicing off a piece of chicken and extending it towards me, but I shook my head.
She took a sip from her wine glass "All we know for now, is that she's immune to your hypnosis and heals at an accelerated rate"
"What are you two yammering on about?" Azrael sauntered into the dining room and got seated at the table, picking up his glass of wine.
"The girl"
"What about the girl?" He asked in a bored tone "Goodness, does everything have to revolve around her now?"
"We're trying to figure out who or rather, what she is. It appears she also has super healing"
"Well, I'll be damned" He chuckled. "What next are we yet to discover? Super strength? Or perhaps, telekinesis. You might as well just let me eat her and put all your worries to rest"
"No one's eating her," I said through my teeth.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Azrael mocked. "Anything that pleases you"
I set my fork down and fixed him an unwavering, warning gaze.
"I'm serious, Azrael"
My older brother dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and took a sip from his wine glass.
"Whatever. I saw you rummaging in Dad's study yesterday. Perhaps, I should join forces with you to find the answers you seek. It'll be faster" He chipped in.
"I don't need your help," I replied rudely.
"Just to make things clear, I'm not exactly doing this to help you" He guffawed "I'm simply acting to serve my own interests. Once we discover she's not a significant threat, I plan to make her my next meal"
I grimaced. "Always looking out for yourself as usual"
"Can you blame me?" Azrael smirked, his gaze drifting down to his impressive torso.
He paused to wink at Mother, asking again with a grin "Can you blame me for wanting to maintain this... glorious embodiment of male perfection even after five hundred and seventy-two years?"