Ch 16: Memories

Aribella POV

A harsh knock at my door had me jumping out of bed. In my disoriented state, I hadn’t realized that I was wrapped up in my quilt, and face planted on the ground with a loud thud.

I let out something that sounded like a mixture between a whine and a groan when the knock sounded again, “Ms. Voss,” a woman’s voice sounded through the door. “Breakfast is being served in the dining hall. Mr. Whitehall requests your presence.”

“Coming,” I yawn, rubbing the sore spot on my forehead from where I hit the ground.

My shoulders drop when I pop open the armoire, seeing the rows of dresses that were offered to me. I'd nearly forgotten all about my lack of 'proper' clothing.

Irritation swims through my veins. I hated wearing dresses. My jaw clenches as memories of my past flood my mind.

Stephan leans against the wall of the pub, a beer in one hand, and the other clenched at his side. His jaw is tight with frustration, and panic swims through my veins.

I’ve been careful all night. I have looked at the ground. I’ve ignored every man that has said a word to me. I’ve even tucked myself in the back of the booth in the far corner, hoping not to draw any attention to myself.

I didn't even order myself a drink because Stephan thinks I'm a sloppy drunk.

He pushes off the wall, placing his beer on the edge of the pool table as he chalks his stick. I watch him closely, trying to pick up anything that will help me dissect his thoughts.

He hits the ball, albeit a little harder than usual, but makes the shot anyways. Two later, and he’s won his round. The opponent, one of his close buddies, walks over with his arm slung over the girl of the week.

She’s making flirty eyes at Stephan, and I want to scream. Tell her to run and never look back. He’s not a nice man. You don’t want him.

The three of them chat for a few minutes, and I watch the girl closely. She’s wearing a dress that Stephan would likely strangle me with if he even saw in my closet. It’s skintight, hugging every curve she has. Her boobs are pushed nearly to her chin, and if she bent over that pool table, I’d bet we’d all get a show.

Her tanned thighs are on full display, something I’ve not been allowed to do in years.

Jealousy floods my body, but not because she’s talking to Stephan. No… because she has the freedom to do whatever the hell she wants… wear whatever the hell she wants. She exudes confidence, something I lost a long time ago.

“What the hell are you staring at?” Stephan’s voice drags me from my admiration for the woman clinging to his best friend.

“I just thought your friend’s girlfriend was pretty,” I forced a smile, though the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

“She’s a slut, but at least she’s good at it,” he grips my arm, his nails digging painfully into my skin. My body is pulled from the booth, and the moment I’m on my feet, Stephan leans in. To anyone on the outside, it would look like he was whispering sweet-nothings into my ear, but no… “You parade around in a thin sundress begging all of these men to fuck you. You’re a pathetic whore.”

My heart raced like an engine in my chest. Stephen told me to dress nice. He told me that he wanted to show me off. I knew better than to wear something skimpy, so I chose a high neck sundress that flowed down to my ankles and strappy wedges.

I shiver at the memory of that night. It was the first time he assaulted me. The car ride home was so silent, and I knew it was the calm before the storm. He slapped me before dragging me to the bedroom by my hair.

He kept the dress on me to show me how I’d begged for him to force himself on me. To show me how easily he could access me. How easily anyone could access me.

Closing my eyes, I take a few leveling breaths to calm myself down before grabbing the first dress that my hand touched and throwing it on. I quickly braided my unruly hair and headed to the door.

Kaelar was posted outside, wearing his uniform and mask like always. His hair was perfectly styled, and I wondered how much sleep he needed to maintain perfection.

“Do you sleep?”

My eyes widened at how rude that question might be, “I’m sorry,” my cheeks flooded with heat. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask such questions.”

“I do sleep,” he responded without acknowledging my embarrassment.

I have a million questions I’d like to ask him. In my past life, Vampires were creatures of folklore. They were unbelievably strong and drank blood from unsuspecting humans. They were feared by most, and some stories claimed they burned beneath sunlight.

I knew that part wasn’t the truth, but everything else was still debatable.

The rest of the walk to the dining hall was silent, and I found myself picking at my nailbeds in an attempt to calm my nerves.

I had no idea who would be present in the dining hall for breakfast, but I imagine I’ll be eating alongside Rhory and Emrys at the very least.

“You’re a late riser,” Rhory called out as I entered the room.

My mouth went dry when I saw that Mael was also present at breakfast. Reo stood against the far wall beside the guard member from the night of the gathering. Kaelar left my side and joined the two of them.

Instead of sitting down immediately, I decided to walk over to where the three of them stood, “I’ve met Kaelar and Reo, but we haven’t been introduced yet.” I outstretched my hand, and the guard’s eyes crinkled at the corners, “Rhys Lowell, third in command for the Royal Guard.” The man winked, and I knew he was smiling beneath the confines of that mask.

“It’s nice to meet you Rhys. I’m Aribella Voss,” I shook his hand, hearing an annoyed growl from the table.

“Is all that really necessary?” Mael muttered, before clearing his throat, “I mean, your food is getting cold is all. You should certainly come eat and save the niceties for later.”

“I found it necessary, yes,” my feet carry me to the empty space opposite of Emrys and to the right of Rhory.

There is a plate with various fruits and a half slice of French toast.

“If you aren’t satisfied with what you’ve been served, don’t hesitate to let me know,” Rhory attempts to ease the tension. “The maids would be glad to bring out something that suits your tastes better.”

“No,” I shook my head, “This is perfect, thank you. Though a mug of coffee would be spectacular.”

“Marionette,” Rhory calls out, and not even a moment later, an older woman with graying hair hurries to his side. “Could you please grab Ms. Voss a mug for coffee?”

“Yes, of course, your highness,” she hurried back through the doors, and returned with a press and kettle.

The aroma was intoxicating as she poured the steaming water over ground up coffee beans, and as soon as the warm, bitter liquid flooded my mouth, I let out a satisfactory moan, “Holy shit, this is amazing.”

I opened my eyes, realizing that the utter silence in the room was because of me. Seven pairs of eyes were all staring at once.