Word went around that no one that had ever knocked on the Eleazars' doors seeking shelter were turned away.
Arabella held out hope that those weren't mere rumors.
And thus she ran forward through a forest so thick, it had almost completely forbidden moonlight from penetrating it.
By then, and along with her dampened face, the cold had already numbed her feet; it was a miracle they still carried her weight. With one hand clutching the skirt of her gown, Arabella struggled to fend off every branch on her way with the other. Many had already thrashed her skin, causing stinging lacerations that were easy to ignore in the moment, considering the speed at which her blood coursed her veins.
It was only when the hem of her dress had caught in a tuft of prickly vines that she stopped. As that happened, and since the very beginning of it all, Arabella finally threw a glance behind herself, noting, much to her satisfaction, that the Kingsmen's' voices had faded and the light from the torches they held were nowhere to be seen.
She pulled on her gown with all of her might to free herself from the bushes until a ripping sound was heard. Arabella wasted not another second and resumed her running.
"Just a little longer," she told herself, and when the end of the forest became visible, through her tears, the ghost of a smile appeared across her features. The young woman inhaled all the oxygen she could and huffed as she began to slow down.
There, before her eyes it stood, surrounded by no fences but a gate in the distance, the Eleazars' mansion. Grand and majestic, it surpassed anything she'd imagined.
Her hand naturally flew upwards and clasped around the golden locket resting on her chest. Arabella's body started to tremble again as the smile on her gradually waned upon remembering that she was about to knock on a vampire's door.
Still, there was no going back for her. Glancing from her left to her right, all around the mansion, there were no guards and yet the chilling feeling that somebody was watching wouldn't leave her alone.
There was much to be seen, much to marvel at, but much like every aching part of her body that night, Arabella had to ignore all of it and push through. The closer she stepped to the manor the more its lights reflected in her glistening gemstone green eyes.
Hand up, ready to knock, seconds that felt like centuries went by while she contemplated her odds, but in the end, Arabella knew there were no other options for her to consider.
Her first knock was a shy one. Then she gave it a second tap and then a third one, but before the fourth one landed, someone had already opened the door.
"Yes?" a young-looking woman, donning a quite luxurious maid outfit, smiled at Arabella.
Despite her best efforts to reciprocate the smile, hers came across as a grimace more than anything else. Even her tears betrayed her, streaming down her already wet cheeks. Arabella opened her mouth to voice her thoughts, but it closed before anything came through.
"I… Just," she made another attempt but merely stuttered a few times and when all hope for her to utter a coherent sentence was lost, she seemingly game up, sighed and muttered a, "Help…,"
The maid stared her up and down, the courtesy smile she'd offered had shifted to concern. Brows furrowed and lips pursed, she immediately pulled the door further open and stepped to the side, "Please, come inside,"
As soon as she'd stepped inside, warmth rushed and enveloped her whole. Arabella failed to fight the urge to wrap her hands around her own arms and rub them.
Startled, the young woman jumped in her spot upon hearing the click of the door as the maid closed it behind her.
"This way," the maid walked past Arabella, ushering her in a specific direction.
Eyes wide open, Arabella moved deeper into the manor. A light amber tint from the candles brightening the hall, reflected beautifully on the silver decorations. Ornaments on the walls, vases, chandeliers, plant pots and even painting frames donned the same exact silver hue. Besides the immaculate red carpet beneath her feet, nothing else broke that pattern.
"Wait here, please," said the maid before leaving Arabella alone.
They'd walked through large doors leading to an even vaster room, this one also decorated with mostly silver ornate items.
Her eyes were drawn to a sizable painting hanging on the wall, right above the fireplace where flames crackled merrily at its heart.
It was the portrait of an exquisitely beautiful woman, one that would seem in her thirties, but assuming it was a vampire, Arabella could not tell for sure.
Depicted in a seated position, the sheet of silky and jet black hair on her reached the hem of her violet gown.
The woman's eyes, just as dark as her hair, pierced Arabella's soul, snatching a stronger shiver from her.
It was a mere painting and yet the weight of the woman's glare deterred Arabella's eyes away. They flickered towards the smaller, but still big, painting next to the woman's.
Silver haired and dazzling diamond eyes, of the like Arabella had never seen on a man. His satin hair fell an inch or so short of touching his wide shoulders. He stood tall and proud in a meticulously embroidered fit that hugged and perfectly stressed his masculine form.
"Mesmerizing, isn't he?" a cold, feminine voice wretched her attention away from the painting.
Arabella drew a sharp breath, quickly swirling around to meet the sight of an elegant woman, sipping on something in a pretty little teacup as she sat comfortably on one of the armchairs in the room, "Even amongst our kind, he's always been a special one," the woman added in the same collected tone.
There were no doubts to be had in Arabella's mind. It was her. The woman in the painting. Just as beautiful and eerily identical as though the painting had been finished mere seconds ago.
After swallowing a few times, Arabella finally managed to find her words, "Lady Persephone Eleazar?" she muttered with a quivering voice.
In response, the woman set her teacup upon its saucer on the small table near by her, and without sparing a glance in Arabella's way, she commanded, "Sit, child,"
Eyes cast downwards, Arabella immediately obliged, placing her bottom on the cushy chair by the woman's side.
"State your full name and business," the woman ordered.
"My name is Arabella, Henrietta Sterling, my Lady. I've come seeking shelter under your roof," Arabella went mute for a second before hastily adding, "Only if you'll have me, of course,"
"Sterling, you say?" the woman inquired.
Arabella's eyes darted upwards, towards the woman. Her eyebrows were not exactly knitted together but were close enough to be, earning her a skeptical air.
"Yes," Arabella murmured.
The longer the two of them stared into each other's eyes, the deeper Arabella's heart sank into her stomach along with her hopes to be granted asylum. For a moment, she was certain the next words out of the woman's mouth would be an order for Arabella to leave the premises.
Lady Persephone's eyes traveled all over Arabella's figure, ending their journey on the golden locket around her neck.
Then, out of her sleeve, she proceeded to pull a clean handkerchief before extending it towards Arabella.
"Wipe the blood on your face and hands with this," she calmly ordered.
Without another word, Arabella obeyed, gently dabbing around her open cuts as they stung and burned more since the rush from running through the forest had died down.
"Give it here," Lady Persephone extended an open hand, waiting for Arabella to place the handkerchief back in it.
The instant she complied; Lady Persephone brought the handkerchief to her nose and took her sweet time inhaling the blood.
Before Lady Persephone, Arabella had seen vampires come and go throughout her years living in the Sterling manor.
Many of them dealt business with her father, Reuben Sterling, and they'd always looked… Human, besides the fact that they only traveled after sunset.
It was such an uncanny sight to watch Lady Persephone's eyes almost roll into the back of her head as she relished the scent of Arabella's blood, rubbing the fabric between her fingers.
"Dare I say, you've lived a cozy and comfortable life thus far," said Lady Persephone upon… Regaining her senses, "You've never had to worry about good food on your plates or clean water in your cups," she paused and when Arabella said nothing, she continued, "You are a noble man's daughter, aren't you, girl? What is it or who is it you seek shelter from?" her voice, although buttery smooth, blared across the entire room.
"I…," Arabella fiddled with her fingers and stuttered a few times, but no words came through.
Seeing her shaky state, Lady Persephone took a deep breath before comforting her, "You won't be turned away, child. Please, answer my question,"
"I was to be escorted to the royal palace this evening after the prince had declared me his," Arabella stated in one breath as though she couldn't utter it all fast enough.
"And what are the stakes?" Lady Persephone picked her teacup once more, "How many lives depend upon your union to the prince?"
"None!" abashed by the way she'd rashly exclaimed, Arabella immediately flung her eyes down, adding in a much quieter tone, "I wasn't to be married to the prince, I was to be a mere piece in his collection of women,"
"What of your family? Won't they suffer the consequences of your actions tonight?" Lady Persephone pressed further.
"I am deeply saddened to say that my mother is no longer of this world. My brother fled the kingdom long ago and I have no way of even knowing if he still breathes. As for my father, for as long as the king lives, no one shall harm a hair on his head, not even the prince," the longer her sentence went the more hushed Arabella's tone became.
"Rest assured, you are safe here, but the Eleazars run no charity. You must earn your keep around here,"
"Of course!" Arabella's eyes connected with those of Lady Persephone again.
"I must say, it isn't every day that human nobility comes knocking on my doors seeking shelter," the woman chuckled, "State your age,"
"Twenty-six, my Lady,"
"I'd like you to be the sole blood provider for my son, Arabella,"
Lady Persephone's words caused Arabella to freeze in her seat, "Blood provider?" she muttered very weakly.
"Yes, Blood of your quality is not easy to come by around here and as I said before, even among his own, Silas has always been special. You wouldn't see a problem with that, would you?" Lady Persephone smiled.
"No, of course not," Arabella shook her head from left to right before asking in the most sheepish of ways, "How often will he…" she trailed off.
"Fear not, child. We won't drain you," Lady Persephone chuckled again, "In my experience, a young woman of your age and caliber should be able to spare 500 milliliters or a pint of blood every two weeks. So, what say you, Arabella, do we have a deal?"
Arabella smiled curtly and nodded, "Yes, my Lady,"