My Dark Lord

Struggle in the House of Brighton

      Francois entered the Study again, she'd been in here every day since he'd left a week ago, her skin looked sallow, her hair mussed and in desperate need of a brushing, and there was bags beneath her eyes that looked nearly bruised.

      "Mi'Lady...please...eat something." he begged softly as he held out a tray to her, he'd heaped it with fresh fruits, cheeses, meats and bread.

      Turning her head she stared into the fire and he frowned deeply he didn't know how to convince her to eat and he was lucky that she even drank.

      "M...Mi'Lord will be furious with you if when he comes home he finds that you've not eaten." he attempted.

      When she still would not look at him he sat the tray on a stand and left it there, he had his own suspicion of why she looked extra sallow but it was not his place to breach that subject with her.

      Leaving her be he left the room wishing more than ever that Xander was still there. As he entered the kitchen he heard her whisper Xander's name; it pained him to see her so distraught. In the time she had been here he had watched her blossom and now...now she was crawling back into herself like a Tulip at sunset her petals were closing.

      "Still nothing?" a young maid named Yvette questioned.

      Solemnly he shook his head no, "I'm at my wits end...I promised Lord Xander I would protect her...but how do you protect one from one's own self!" he fretted, he truly was at his wits end, he kept vigil by her night and day, always staying close lest she need him.

      A wave of weakness hit him causing him to lean against the wall to steady himself, he'd not even gone out and fed sense the day Xander had left.

      "But you're tired, you should rest Francois." Yvette said approaching him, holding his hand up he halted her in her footsteps.

      "I'll be fine, I just need a moment, please sneak a peek and see if she's touched anything." obeying him Yvette left out of the room leaving him alone.

      Opening the Icebox he looked in it, a fresh slab of meat had just been delivered that day, closing the door he grabbed his apron then washing his hands he pulled it out, placing it atop the butcher counter then grabbing up his butcher knife he began to divide the meat into meal sized chunks, grabbing up a chunk he looked at the door then back and frowned; he needed the blood even though this blood would nauseate him a little. 

      Bringing the chunk of meat to his lips he bit into it and suckled on it what little blood was left in the flesh entering him, nauseating him yet making him feel a little stronger; he repeated himself several times until each chunk had been drained almost completely. Replacing the chunks in the Icebox save one which he tossed it in a pot to begin cooking. Washing his hands  and face he then began to chop up vegetables in as small of pieces as he could get.

      The door squeaked as Yvette entered with the tray, "All she did was drink the juice I'd squeezed for her earlier." Yvette fretted, "Let me do that, you take a rest, you've been watching her constantly." she said frowning at him, Yvette was a pretty young thing, maybe 17, with silvery blonde hair and deep blue eyes like the sea he remembered of his youth. 

      Stepping aside he shook his head then sat down, the cold blood had revitalized a very small portion of his strength but had done nothing for his hunger. He watched her delicate fingers go to work, the mounds of flesh straining against the top of her peasant's dress and then there was the long, delicate expanse of her throat; could he feed without her noticing? Could he perhaps charm her, she had always been attracted to him, he could read that in her thoughts.

      Rising to his feet he walked around the counter, "They've got to be smaller, here, let me show you how to cut them smaller safely." He said stepping up behind her he let his hands and fingers slid down her arms to where he was cupping her hands and very nearly pressed against her backside, a shiver went through her. Guiding her hands he showed her how to cut smaller pieces and as she concentrated he nuzzled her neck gently; her scent exploding in his brain like fireworks. Realising one hand he wrapped his arm about her waist and pulled her flush with him and kissed her neck softly then gently sank his fangs in, she stiffened at first then shivered and moaned as her hands stilled.

      Her blood was like lightning in a bottle and ever so sweet, he had been so focused on not smelling the human blood that surrounded him that he had not realized that Yvette was his exact blood type. Moaning lowly himself as her blood filled his mouth he tightened his arm a fraction then forcing himself to stop he licked the wounds to heal them closed then went back to what they were doing.

      "And that is the easiest and safest way to cut them small enough that say a sick person would not choke on them as they can easily be swallowed." he said then fully releasing her he turned his attention onto the meat that was now searing in the pain creating the roux he would need for the beef stew.

      As he stood there thinking of what he had done a sudden thought came to him as if it were placed there by someone, blood, if she was in the situation he thought she was she needed blood.

      With that thought in mind he finished up the stew quickly with Yvette's help as they were the only two there because Matilda had been called home; her husband and son had already fallen victim to the Revolution.

      "Would you get me the baguet from the pantry for me Yvette?" he questioned and as she was deep within the pantry using his butcher knife he sliced open his palm and squeezed some of his blood into the bowl of soup intended for Freya. He had finished just as Yvette returned from the pantry, closing his hand he hid his palm from view as she reached past him to grab a bread knife.

      He made up her tray as he prayed to whatever God or Goddess may listen to him that she would eat, his blood added a slightly sweet aroma to her dish that he hoped would tempt her. Taking a deep breath he frowned.

      "Do you think she'll eat?" Yvette questioned, "I am very concerned for her, she...seems to be withering away...like something is taking all the nutrients from her I notice it every time I have to help her bathe." Yvette said gnawing her lip, stepping forward he used his thumb to pull her lip from between her teeth; Yvette sure was beautiful he thought as she flushed.

      "We can only hope." he said then using his finger and thumb he gave her chin a little tweak which caused her to flush even deeper.

      Returning to the study he found Freya had draped a quilt about her shoulders but still sat staring blankly into the fire that was nearly out.

      "I've brought you your supper Mi'Lady." he called out, blankly she looked at him and he could tell she'd been crying again, "Please...if not for yourself...for Lord Xander...do eat." he muttered as he held the tray out to her, looking him in the eyes he watched as tears welled up, quickly sitting the tray down he wrapped his arms around her and let her weep; she was thinner than he'd thought he had to get her to eat.

      After she had calmed he grabbed the bowl of soup and kneeling before her he blew on a spoonfull and held it out to her his heart sinking when she merely eyed it then soaring slightly when she opened her mouth for the bite; he let out a deep internal sigh.

      "Francois..." she muttered after swallowing the bite.

      "Yes Mi'Lady?" he questioned his heart stalling as he picked from her mind what she was preparing to speak of.

      "I'm with child." she simply muttered then her tears began to flow again, "What if...what if he doesn't return...who will be a father to our child." she wailed, "Who will help me care for him or her?!"

      Setting the bowl down he clasped her thin hand tightly, "I will be there as long as you have need of me Mi'Lady, I swore on my life to Xander I would protect you and even upon his death I would hold my word." he said lowly, he loved Freya just as much as Xander, only, differently, "But you'll see...he'll return to us at the end of all this."

  © Eva Henderson