Warm Blood

14 

1347

Each morning I am woken by a loud bell that sends a reverberating echo throughout my residence. It always sounded at the exact moment the rim of the sun appears on the horizon, and it always succeeded in bringing a familiar discomfort to my temples. It was something that I never quite understood, considering I did not hold an important enough title—or any, for that matter—to be summoned at such an early hour; but nevertheless, this was the hour in which the handmaidens tended to me. Religiously and most certainly regimented they served me a grand breakfast that I was always never hungry for and they bathe and dress me—a task I would have never thought one would do for me before now.

It was amusing, honestly.

But each morning when the handmaids left, Wymond would return to the room to greet me with his warm smile which made it all worth the trouble.

He was always gone before I woke, but I was unaware of where he goes. I had always assumed he was off tending to Earl duties, fetching errands for the king and the like, but I was never positive, and I never thought to ask. That part of Wymond's life was a mystery, and it seemed as though it was a secret he intended on keeping.

"I have a present for you," Wymond murmured as he stood proudly beneath the majestic archway to our chamber. His golden shirt draped loosely over his chest, forcing every eye to his strong neck while leaving them to wonder about what lied beneath the thin linen. But I didn't have to wonder because I knew every line and crevice of Wymond's frame, maybe better than himself, as I have become quite acquainted with his body every night since my first—our first.

I sat up promptly in our bed, regarding him closely with anticipation as he made his way to me with slow and purposeful glides.

A grin was stretched across his face. "Do you know what today is?"

I shook my head as I racked my brain to remember the importance of today. "No, should I?"

"Today marks the fifth year of our union."

I gasped. "Has it been five years?" Time seemed to move slow in the castle, mostly due to the fact that I was never allowed to leave without Wymond's accompaniment, but the curious thing about allowing him to feed on me was that it tended to cause the days to blur together. After feeding, I was always engulfed in a deep haze that left my memories shaky. Although I knew it had been quite a while since I left France to be Wymond's wife, I couldn't fathom the amount of time that had actually passed.

His smile only deepened. I had never before seen him so eager when he placed an enclosed scroll in my hands. I gazed at it curiously as I traced my thumb over the thick red seal that secured its edges, undoing its hold and unrolling its contents. The ink on the pages were of a strong cursive that I couldn't decipher, although the words property and registration did stand out. "What is this?"

"Your parents have just bought a house," Wymond said simply. "Happy anniversary."

I felt my heart sink to the depths of my stomach in utter shock and disbelief. There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think of the family I left behind in Anjou; after all, I chose to live this life with Wymond so that they could be safe, and yet there was a part of me that thought they would never see this day. I didn't know why I would ever doubt Wymond. He was an honorable man of his word.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed while my arms unconsciously made their way around his neck, pulling him onto the bed ina warm embrace. It wasn't long after when the tears started to escape my eyes. I held him tightly, so tight that he would always know how my gratitude. My family were not poor servants anymore. My brother Neville and baby Anya, who was undoubtedly a beautiful little girl now, were going to live a life much better than I had. It was all I could ever want. "When can I see them?"

Slowly, Wymond's smile dropped, and my smile dropped along with it. "I'm afraid that is not possible, Madeleine."

"Why not?"

He let go of a long sigh. "It is quite dangerous in France. I'm afraid you won't survive the journey."

I shook my head defiantly. "Dangerous?" I repeated, "what is the danger? Will my family be alright?"

"I'd sure hope so," he said, slum. He lifted himself from the bed, turning his back to me. "There is a plague ravaging through France as we speak. There is a lot of death and not much is known about the cause. I can't allow you to go to France for I won't be able to ensure your safety."

"My father is not in great health. He hasn't been for a long time now..." I spoke softly, "...if there is a plague, he could be vulnerable! Please allow me to see them."

Wymond glanced over his shoulder to shoot me with her dark glare. "I said no," he snapped, instantly making me wince. In the next few moments, he leaned down to eye-level to meet me and traced his finger along the side of my neck. Silence clouded us briefly to allow his temper to soothe and soon thereafter, his smile returned. "I can't take the risk, Madeleine. I need you alive, so that I can stay alive."

My stomach churned violently in that moment. I couldn't fathom the thought of Wymond putting his need for blood over my own happiness. The man I knew would not do this. The emotional anguish I felt inside was too much to deny, and so I retaliated, loudly, "You can find yourself another wife, another servant, another person to feed on—you don't need me. I want to go home!"

He raised a brow. It was hard to read his emotion in a time like this, but I knew I definitely struck something within him. "Is that how you feel? You think that you are able to be replaced? That I want to be with another woman? I've come here to give you a present for our anniversary and here you are, rambling about getting yourself killed. Do you think that I want you to die? Do you not care how this affects me?"

"No," I spat. "I don't care what you want. I want to see my family. I've lived in this castle for five years without any freedom. I have maids who wait on my every need. I can't even bathe myself without someone having to watch me, and I let you drink from me every night. You told me once that you're a protector put on Earth to help people, but you are not helping. You are letting me drive myself mad in this place, and you won't let me see the people I care about!"

A weight was lifted from shoulders that I didn't even know I carried. I had stayed silent for far too long that I almost forgot what it felt like to actually speak my thoughts.

Wymond released a sigh that sounded exhausted. "Well, Madeleine, it appears you have forgotten your place," he said in a frighteningly calm voice. Suddenly, he wrapped his hand around my throat with a powerful grip, silencing any other thought I would dare to make known. His brown eyes had turned black and the slightest of veins appeared beneath them, showing him then what I should've known all along—Wymond was not human, no matter how much I had made him out to be.

"You will not leave unless I tell you to," he stated, cold. "You will not think of leaving unless I tell you to, and you will certainly not take my kindness for weakness ever again." Even though I knew it was wrong, I found it incredibly hard to reject his command. It was only when I nodded in obedience that he released his tight grasp, making certain I would never question him again.

When he pulled his hand away, I caught a glimpse of a dark red liquid staining his fingers and it was then I realized he had drawn blood. I stared at him bewildered, hoping he would apologize for hurting me, because the Wymond I knew would never hurt me. But instead, he slowly brought his fingers to his lips and tasted the blood he had ripped from me.