The cracked and decaying marble of the hall was dusty, but not nearly as much so as the red carpet on the floor, lined with gold and worn with a trail of footsteps in the middle, which stirred up the gray dust as it collected along the sides. If you strayed too much from the center of the carpet, it would come up in the air in plumes with each step. The Silver twins followed close behind me, their chain clanking as they walked, and their soft footsteps hardly audible. I was following Illy through the castle, and right now, we were in the decaying part.
"Why is it so dusty and neglected here?" I whispered, leaning closer to Illy as I asked, so any listening ears couldn't hear.
"Mother keeps it this way," She replied, "Always liked old things, and so she forbids anyone to clean the back half of the castle, unless for special occasions, especially the church."
"The Church?" I asked. She pointed to a long hallway at which the end of I could see a large extravagant doorway, closed firmly on it's heavy hinges.
"Where the dead are kept," Illy replied softly, continuing on. On the walls were many old paintings, and a couple stranger ones. I saw large pictures of nobility, family and otherwise, and many hangings of scenery and mansions, some from Caedis and some brought along from the outside world. One caught my attention though. It was a couple splatters of brownish red on a plain white canvas, pulled taught on a big golden frame.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to it as we passed.
"The blood of an enemy," She replied cooly, not pausing to stop as we passed. I shuttered at the thought, and scurried on after her, now even closer than before.
"The Queen's enemy?" I asked softly.
"No," She said, "mine." I drew back from her as she spoke, and tried to rid the unpleasant thoughts from my head. I am owned by a murderer, I thought in my head, but then reminded myself, she is the child of one, and knew deep down from all people I had seen that everyone is just a slightly less painful version of their parents. The parent's wrongdoings are reflected in them, but if the child did it's job, they would be faded. Illy was the same, and I hoped that I was as well, because really that's all anyone can hope for.
We rounded the corner and walked straight through the already open doors out of the castle, arriving upon a large carriage that looked very different than that we had came in what seemed like so long ago. The carriage itself was very similar but the difference lied in how it was drawn. There were no reigns but instead a couple lines of thin bars across the top, on which perched a set of medium sized brownish ravens, who looked down on us with their peculiar glinted eyes and their questioning faced as if to scrutinized their load. Knowing I couldn't ask anything here in front of the guards I got into the carriage without a word, but my brain whirred thinking of what it all meant. Surely we weren't going to be lifted by a handful of birds.
As we stepped into the carriage I recognized that it was indeed the exact same one we had travelled in when we came from Europe, as it had the same black and red interior. The curtains were drawn and we were seated, and almost as the door closed I turned to Illy. "We aren't going to fly in this thing, right?" I asked.
"Of course we are," She replied, "I'm not sitting around another week to get to the coast of China, we fly two days, stay for three, and fly back."
"But those birds can't possibly get us off the ground, let alone fly very fast or far." I replied, becoming less sure she was joking.
"Of course they can," She said, "They're rauzires, and have enough strength in pairs to lift this carriage, we only need so many because it has to fly fast. They take shifts, and with so many of them, it's hardly difficult." I shuttered, baffled by this new concept.
"But couldn't they drop us from the sky?"
"They could, but we'd round them up and kill them the moment they even thought about it, and it's not like I couldn't fly this carriage to safety myself." I was as baffled by this statement as I was the last but momentarily was saved from this emotion by another, more devious. There was a sudden surge and a weightlessness about the carriage and turning to the window I cast the blind aside to watch open mouthed as the ground beneath us shrunk and the castle walls slowly shot by, until we were clear in the morning sky.
"But if we can get to China's coast in two days, how come it took three weeks to get here from Europe." Not daring to take my eyes of the window.
"It didn't," She replied, "It only took us one but we didn't want to freak you out too soon, especially if you were just a measly human." "Here," Said Master, beckoning me with her voice. I whipped around to see her holding out a small glass needled syringe filled with a small quantity of deep green liquid.
"What?" I asked, still stunned by the prospect of flight in a carriage by a couple of measly ravens and even more so by a lone bat and rendered temporarily incapable of computing what was being held out to me.
"Ah," She said smoothly, leaning over to meet me, "I suppose you'd rather I do it than you, wouldn't you sweetheart?" Her light fingers traced my chin as she leaned in, her glass monocle glinting in the light, it's blazing eye seemed caged but in that moment, perhaps more in control than her unhindered one. "Lean in dear, she said, pulling me in with a faint trace of the neck, and slipped the needled behind me, out of view. I felt a sharp jab and went almost immitiatly limp, falling straight into her plump lips, which seemed waiting for me, but after a moment's idle kiss, I was pulled away by my metal collar, and let fall on the seat.
"It's ironic, isn't it," I heard Master say faintly in the distance, "that the one girl the Clementias managed to deem horrid, is the only one I have any interest in." Her voice faded into the blackness of my eyelids like sensation did, and I fell into a viscous and dreamless sleep.
* * *
When I awoke we were on the ground again, but quite obviously not in the same place. We ere speeding through the heart of a large city, it's tall skyscrapers cramped around the big paved streets and the sky clouded with a gray smog. I tried to recall all that had happened before. What did it mean when she said that I was the only one she had interest in. I was a simple slave, and yet she had said there was more appeal to me than the members of the family she was destined to marry. I hated myself for placing hope in her words. I wished I didn't sort of want it to mean that I wasn't just a toy, and I wouldn't be thrown out, and I wasn't destined to watch her marry others while I sat idly in chains. But my thoughts were interrupted by the carriage wheels screeching to a halt, and I turned to see Illy stand.
She wore her big blue velvet cloak over a slim black dress that cut out along the chest, neck, and waist, revealing the pale white of her smooth skin beneath. The sleeves puffed and the skirt turned lacy at the base, but I could only get a glimpse through the blue cloak. "Ready?" She asked, and I turned to see the Silver twins, dressed in matching blue uniforms with red ribbon in their hair and a white lacy cravat tied with a silver medallion on their necks. They were posed ready to open the door and escort us out, and I looked down to see they had dressed me as well, in a white gown that flared to my knees, and white fishnet leggings and sleeves. The neck of the dress left less to the imagination than I would have preferred, but I complied and stepped forth anyway.
"Where," I began.
"Beijing," Master interrupted, "Here you call me Master only, and nothing else." She said coldly. The door swung open and we stepped out, followed closely by the Silver twins into a large mirrored skyscraper. "We do business here often, and you will sit in on all that transpires. The Silver twins are to act as my guards, you my slave, so do so accordingly." She simply cocked her head to the front desk, and all there bowed so low they disappeared under the table, before racing forth to trace out our path to the elevator. Once inside the half glass, half mirrored elevator, we stood silent, and shot up at an enormous speed, so I was obliged to grip the handrail quite rigorously to avoid falling.
At the top the doors pinged our arrival, halted, and slid open silently, to reveal a large flat expansive parlor connected to a drawing room by a spacious curtained door. The giant windows displayed a view of the tops of the towers that engulfed us a moment before, whom ceased a while below our own floor, so that the building's hight was rivaled only by a few distant figures in the smog.
"What floor is this?" I asked, stepping out after Illy into the extravagant parlor, and realized I didn't think I had seen a room lacking at least one golden feature since my departure from Europe.
"111," She replied, "the highest in this building." I shuttered at the idea of being suspended so high, and the fall it would take to get down. "Now hurry and resume your position." She said.
"Why?" I asked, taking a seat beside her, but staggering myself slightly behind, to shed more spotlight of her. The twins stood near the door, and as I glanced over at Master, she pulled off her cloak and threw it to them, and with her knees together, sat up tall. I almost felt a flush of blood rush to my face, seeing the way her black curls flowed on her back, and her pink tongue darted out to wet her crimson lips. Her eyes were emotionless and calm, like stones in a clear stream, polished shiny with the constant rushing of water above them.
"Our first guest is due when the clock strikes." She replied, pointing to a giant wood grandfather's clock in the corner, carved in a detailed expanse of a landscape and painted behind it's silvery hands. It was half a minute to the hour, and I watched as the big glass cylinders of mercury, and the big brass gong was struck, ringing out. As if on cue, the door was swung open by the twins, who ushered in a pair of women in slender white dresses, adorn with blue stitched flowers that bolstered from their collars and sleeves.
"The Countesses of Harbin," Illy exclaimed delightedly, as though meeting old friend, and stood to shake hands with both of them, they greeted her accordingly, also in english, but after that Chinese was all they spoke. I could see that Illy was more so using her lures of conversational eloquence towards them, rather than being close friends with them, and began to wonder if it was possibly she had any friends at all, as she surely couldn't confide much honesty in anyone. They stayed awhile and talked happily, but left after a bit over an hour, and judging by their expression I could see that it was Illy who refused them a further stay, and not by their choice they had left.
I intended to ask who they were once they had left, but scarcely a moment after the door had shut behind them there was another ring of the bell, and in entered another pair. This time english was disregarded entirely, and though they stayed two hours rather than one, they left in the same manner. When they were gone the room seemed so silent I was almost afraid to speak.
"The next visitor," Illy said, turning to me, "Is named and called by all, Count Clock."
"Count Clock?" I asked, thinking it a strange name, especially by someone that Master seemed to be taking so seriously by her tone.
"He runs China." She replied, and I felt my jaw drop open, but she ignored me and continued. "They call him Count Clock because he runs the country like clockwork, and both the president and the emperor, like in other places, are relative figureheads. He's on the World Council, so he knows of Caedis, so show your utmost respect." I zipped my mouth at these words, knowing if she cared to mention it, it must be really extreme. Almost the moment she was done the twins swung the door open and ushered in a tall man dressed in a striped white suit, it's corners crisp and vest tight around the figure. He looked relatively normal apart from his dress, sporting a long, slightly disheveled head of shiny black hair, tied messily into a short ponytail.
His brown eyes were slender but warm, and on his cheek was two small black moles, that seemed almost like a signature written on his skin. But after a quick glance I looked him over completely, catching sight behind him of a short boy with blond hair. It was long but on the sides it was braided tight to the head in an intricate woven pattern, to expose his dangling brass earrings. But none of that was what I found interesting about him, and neither was his dark black leggings or his crisp deep blue shirt, tied with a large, chain necklace around the collar. It was his face that I recognized, as I had seen it before.
Despite the stark change in hair and attire, in his big green eyes I could see clearly that I had known him before, and recognized him almost instantly as Clifford, the friend I had been texting. He noticeably recognized me as well, and though I did remember to stand to curtsy, both he and I forgot entirely to do so. When Illy rose, I could tell she was angry for a moment, but realizing quickly there was something happening, she dropped and instead began to scrutinized Clifford, on the other side of the room.
"Venastras?" The man asked quietly, his voice soft and knowing, as though it communicated a question only Clifford could hear. I was taken aback by the name, but quickly realized it wasn't all that surprising, as it was doubtful he would keep his name once he had a new master, especially one as extravagant as this. Yet I recalled that this man in no way fit the description of the person he had said bought him, and wondered how he had ended up here, and what luck had resulted in our meeting here as well.
He pointed almost with his eyes to me, and the man's deep brown pupils seemed to fix themselves on me, dragging up and down as if to categorize me, before turning back for further explanation. "Before," He said, "I knew her from before, and we text occasionally."
"Before," Illy asked, turning to me now.
"Yes Master." I replied, "I knew him when we were kids, and though we lost touch a while after he was sold, I contacted him after I was sold, but of course told him little of specifics, as you instruct." This seemed to satisfy both parties, and the man took a seat, taking Clifford, as I still couldn't really accept his new name fully, by the waist and pulling him down beside him. I had forgotten how small and short in stature Clifford was, and now, pressed against the hip of the tall man, it was only exaggerated.
"Then you know each-other well?" Asked the man, and we both nodded, before watching as he turned to Illy, with a knowing look on his face. She almost immitiatly pulled me in by the chain, a little harsher than usual, so our legs were touching we were so close.
"I decline," She said cooly, "though I am honored at your request, if I am not mistaken." He laughed, but retained a certain teasing quality to his face.
"Jealous?" He asked, leaning back in his chair. I wondered if they talking about me, and couldn't help but feel a tad interested in the question, though it seemed ridiculous that someone like Illy, the Princess of a Kingdom that ran the world through opaque glass, would ever be jealous over me.
"Of course not," Illy replied, but something in her voice was less serious than before. "With what I've heard I'm more surprised your not, I've heard your quite attached to yours."
"Well," He replied smoothly, "I cannot say your wrong, but that doesn't mean I don't let him have his fun too." I realized that this was the first time I had seen Master pitted against someone who was equal to her. They were both on the council, both practically heads of powerful countries, the was not another nobel to entertain with luxury, it was as close as the Princess had, to both a friend, and an enemy.
But still I had little clue as to what they were talking about, and so looking at Clifford, I found his face stark red, which only served to puzzle me more. "I say I must decline, " Illy replied again, "But as I'm sure they have plenty to catch up on, if you wish it, we might release them to the drawing room, to speak, or course." I saw her defenses go up, and she began again to talk a little as though I was a pet.
"Sounds most wonderful," He replied, "Venastras?" He asked, turning to Clifford.
"If you wish it," He said, and stood, offering me an arm on impulse, though I saw in his face he considered omitting it. I turned to Master in attempt to stand but by a tug of the chain I was sent forward, and landed in her kiss. It felt a little more passionate than usual on her part, but regardless I recognized that I would probably never get used to kissing her, no matter how many times she obliged me to. In a moment I was standing again and taking Clifford's arm we went to the dining room, and sliding the door shut behind the curtain, sunk deeply into the chairs. I was about to begin when he cut me off.
"My original master, "He said, "was kind and all, but though she cared for me, she saw that I didn't as much as I should for her, and traded me off in a trade with a friend. The friend introduced me to Master Clock, and he insisted that he have me."
"So you've been with Count Clock for a while?" I asked.
"Around a year," He said, turning his gaze to his thumbs.
"Do you?" I asked, but paused, "want to talk like old times or like etiquette insists?"
"Oh, it's better to talk casually. Though I love my new master, I do think sometimes it is annoying to be so high up, because I can never speak to anyone without trying to impress."
"I know," I replied, before thinking better of it. "Do you know about my Master and story or anything?" I asked, but he shook his head. "Then you don't know about Caedis?" I asked.
"I know about Caedis and all that," He replied, "But I wasn't aware you had anything to do with it. I was told this was a typical business meeting apart from the fact the host was a member of the world council. Who is she?"
"Princess Ilustra Caedis," I replied, and he slipped back in his chair little, suddenly aware of exactly who was seated in the room opposite.
"Then," He said, still piecing it together. "She's a vampire?"
"Yes," I replied, and he turned his gaze to the doorway, before turning to me in.
"How is that for you?" He asked, his tone now hushed and cautious.
"Actually, it's fine," I replied, and he leaned back, as though relieved. "I never knew it, but I'm not exactly normal either." I said, watching the shock return to his face. "My mom kept it from me, because she was running away from the kingdom, but I'm a rauzire, so as far as my Master being a vampire, it doesn't impact me much."
"But," He stammered out, before falling silent, his eyes scanning me up and down like I was some convoluted work of art. "But then why are you her slave," He asked, "If you're a rauzire, and how did you not know, and."
"It's complicated," I replied, "My mother died in a car accident when I lost my arm and sold myself to get a prosthetic, and then when I was bought by Master she figured out my origin and decided to keep me regardless." I realized that my short explanation didn't help much, but hoped Clifford got the just.
"But regardless of that, how can you served your Master like that?" He asked.
"What do you mean?" I replied, surprised by his words.
"Wait," He said quickly, pausing and then looking back at me. "Are you Eleutheria Clementia?" He asked, "From the history books?" I was previously unaware of books about the matter but I nodded.
"Yes," I replied, and he looked over me again, still gaping.
"I can't believe I'm friends with Eleutheria," He said, "I'm still a little disbelieving of all of it." I nodded in agreement and he continued. "First I was astonished I got such a nice master, and then I was shocked I got such a prestigious one, and now even my friend was born practically a Princess."
"A fallen one," I replied, and we both laughed lightly, like children denying their wounds credit.
"I feel like such a fraud, up here with so many famous people." He began.
"Now now, Venastras, what did I tell you about that," I heard a deep voice come from behind the curtain, the name rolling off the tongue. He spun around to see Count Clock approach. "You're no fraud," He said, wrapping his arms around Clifford's slender neck and drawing him into a soft kiss. I felt weirdly happy watching, knowing that Clifford had both found what he was looking for, but also seeing in a way that what Illy did to me was not so strange as the circumstances of it were.
Master slivered around them and took a seat beside me. "He couldn't leave your alone for long," She snickered, turning to Clifford as she spoke, "He needs more attention than he'll let anyone know."
"And you're not the same," the Count cut in, seating himself opposite. "I believe you're slave girl ought to be taking notes, though I'm still shocked to learn who she is."
"Yes," Illy replied, but she seemed slightly hesitant about the topic, and seemed to glance around the room as if searching for a new one.
"You've got your work cut out for you," He said.
"What do you mean?" She asked, turning back suddenly.
"Well, knowing you and your winding wits, you might just end up with another fallen affair and a scowling mother holding out a gun." He laughed, fidgeting with the edge of his suit jacket as he spoke.
"I can't say you're much better with such things," She snired back at him, "You've had your fair share of failed marriages, and I dare say the only reason you've no blood to show for it is the lack of a mother, and not any shortcoming on your own malice." I begun to recognized a competitive side to their friendship, and worried about the legitimacy of the insults.
"Well, I can say that was from my tastes," He replied, "I've a fine tuned palette."
"I too, could blame much on such attractions, but I can say at least I don't rope up my slaves beneath their clothes to take them to meet Princesses, that's gutsy you know." Illy retorted, cocking her head towards Clifford, who turned bright red at the statement. The count simply laughed.
"I see your observant as ever," He replied, pulling Clifford closer. I shot a gaze back and forth between them, both Master's satisfaction and the Count's blind confidence. "I could play the same game with your's you know." He said, resting his eyes on me. I unconsciously leaned back in my seat, as though trying to race away from his scrutinizing eye.
"Yes," She replied, "But I don't think you'd come up with much that was of use to you, for though I'm in no means perfect, I'm more discrete than you about my imperfections."
"Well I don't believe you can say the same about her." He replied, "It's not like she's had sufficient time to bury away her pains under the thick skin of royal facades."
"No, she hasn't," Illy replied cooly, "but I think if you bring up such personal issues with her you'll have bitten off more than you bargained for, and much more than you can handle."
"I suppose you're right but I am talking to someone to takes to fastening chains perminatly around their slaves limbs so I think we can both agree it would be hypocrisy to scrutinize a little bondage too much."
"You're correct enough about that, all I request is you take you're callings at home and not in my drawing room, even if they've called you here and not there."
"Very well," He replied, "But first I'de like to wonder what in the world you're little gem is thinking, for I can see you saver her innocence well."
"I don't, but she likes to deny the obvious, even when it's already upon her, good day, or night I suppose, though I can see little sleeping will be done."
"I think she has something to ask," He said, shoving Clifford forward towards me. "Go on, whisper it." He snickered. I turned to Illy but she gave no objection, and so I stood and obeyed.
"Are you alright?" I asked, "With that?" He drew back and looked at me as though I was crazy, but then his gaze softened and he leaned in to my ear to whisper back.
"If I must be honest, I love it." And with that he almost ran back to the Count, and latching onto his arm, they exited with a quick bow and the click of the door. I turned to Illy, half expecting another guest, but realize this was not the case as she had leaned back and was drawing up her hair into a messy bun.
"Unbutton me," She said, turning her back to me to expose a line of buttons down the back of her dress. By her tone I could tell this was no time to disobey, nor was it a time for questions, so I complied. I could feel my face redden as I slipped the little black buttons from their fabric captors, exposing the pale and sculpted skin of Illy's back. I undid all down to the base in the small of her back and settled back into my chair. "You've missed two," She said, maintaining her position. I turned back and checked, but every button on the dress was undone, leaving the her white skin exposed except for the red band of the back of her bra, which held tight with two clasps.
"I don't see any," I said, confused, thinking she surely didn't mean the bra.
"No, you do," She replied, "The clasps, you missed two." I felt my face redden at the notion, and turned away, fumbling with the two clasps in question. The cold skin of her back felt good against my hot fingers, and as the bra sprung back she turned with a sigh and placed a kiss to my still lips. "You really do like to deny the obvious," She said, drawing back and starting out of the room. "Silver has you're pajamas, and don't even try to think you're sleeping along tonight."
I shuttered at her honesty, but also saw behind it that her all-knowing way of dealing with the world was in many ways a defense, for is she knew every thing about those who knew about her, they couldn't hurt her, because she could hurt them. I went to Silver, but all they gave me was a pair of soft shorts and a sports bra, and with a sigh, I complied. I stepped into the dimly lit room to find Illy seated in the bed, leaned up against the pillows with a smug look on her face.
"Are you going to explain anything?" I asked.
"Why explain what you already know?" She retorted. I hated that she was right, although I wanted to deny it, I knew what they talked about all the time, and it made me want to cry, because being honest about it, was just another wall stripped away from the boxes of so many horrendous memories of childhood. I hated what I witnessed, and the only way not to shy away from the dirty touch of kind hands, was to deny their filth.
"How long till you become too attached?" I asked, "How long until you kill me?" I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but held them back, my voice shaking in a surpassed yell. She looked up in surprise, and slipped out of bed. "How long?" I sobbed, I let myself collapse, curling up on the floor, my knees in my arms, my head down. I felt the facade in my head snap, and a smile creeped across my face. I let my tears flow and listened, my smile growing as I heard her soft footsteps approach. She stood above me, as though wondered whether to stoop down. I threw in a loud cry and she poured down, her arms around my curved back like a protective shield.
"I," She stammered, "I didn't mean it like that." But my crying faltered, and I was laughing, I felt her arms draw back and shot my head up, staring deep into her wide exposed eyes, their pupils small, and both visible. They seemed to beat with the intensity of her lacking pulse.
"You're not the only one playing games," I laughed out, my head hurt, my tears streaked across my face, but I could also feel in my desperate and cracked morals the panging of real fear pounding against the walls of my head. I saw her face curl up in some strange remembered state, and she threw her arms around me, her head on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry," She cried out, "I want to break you, but not that way." She poured out, and I was crying again. I hated that this was what I wanted.
"Well," I replied, my words strained under the weight of my tears. "I'm not content with breaking alone." I felt her grip loosen at these words, and slowly she stood up. I hated to admit it, but as afraid as I was of rejection, I was also terrified of happiness, for there was no familiarity in that. Even when my mother loved me and cared for me, it was always tinged with uncertainty, there had never been complete happiness for me, and right then, I felt a need to sabotage it.
"Call me master from now on," She said, pulling back and standing up, she held out her hand and I took it to stand. I slept beside her, but I was alone. Horribly alone.