Cloak and Scalpel

ABERLEEN ARC: Good night, Your Grace

"You know," Vas began, keeping his sword in between Carmilla and the Earl. "I don't like it when men berate women like that-father or no. You will talk to her with respect."

"Thank you, Vassago, but I believe..."

Everyone turned to the doorway where a figure strode through the open doors. Shadows of night seemed to wrap themselves around him as he walked, bloodred eyes fixed on Carmilla, and Carmilla alone. With each step he took, Ansaac and his men seemed to hesitate, stepping away from Carmilla with trepidation. The figure stopped before Carmilla and her father, eyes narrowed menacingly at Ansaac.

"...you stole my line," Cecilion finished.

A faint hint of red colored Carmilla's cheeks as Cecilion stood protectively before her. Vas shrugged his shoulders and withdrew his sword.

Up on the dais, Aamon's eyes found mine, and I could almost make out the silent warning in them. The warning to run if Ansaac tried to attack-and if Cecilion would retaliate.

"You!" Ansaac roared, glaring at Cecilion. There was nothing but cold, paternal fury in his voice. "Monster! You stole my child from me!"

Cecilion draped an arm protectively around Carmilla as though to shield her from her father's harsh words. "I am a monster by birth only," Cecilion said coldly, staring at Ansaac. "But riddle me this, human-who killed Carmilla? Me, or...you?"

Ansaac spluttered. "You dare-you dare kidnap my child and claim this-this hearsay?!" He placed his hand on the hilt of his own sword and glared.

Cecilion stared at him with nothing but rage in his bloodred eyes. "Kidnap her? I saved her," he hissed. "I wanted to stay away, Ansaac! I loved her enough to know that I could never give her the life she deserved. I wanted her to live as the privileged wife of a baron, or even a duke-if it made her happy. I would set her free if it meant that. I would break my own heart if it meant giving Carmilla the life she deserved. But no-I was wrong. I was foolish to make that decision on my own without taking her wishes into consideration. I'll not make the mistake of abandoning Carmilla again. I would rather die."

"Then maybe you will," Ansaac hissed as his men drew their swords. The sound metal sighing echoed throughout the cavernous hall as blades were drawn from their scabbards. My Heart raced, eyes staring at the dais.

Aamon immediately stood from his seat, glaring down at Ansaac with venom in his eyes; Vassago's sword was drawn at the ready. "One more move, Ansaac," Aamon said dangerously, his voice ringing with authority. "Raise a blade to either Carmilla or Cecilion-raise a blade in my halls, and an enemy of House Paxley you shall make."

At that moment soldiers appeared seemingly out of nowhere, all dressed in black armor. They seemed to appear from the shadows among the walls, silent, deadly, their own swords drawn.

Berith's hand closed around mine. "Time to go, Diana," he whispered to me.

"Aamon," I protested.

"He'll be fine," Berith reassured me. He was about to say more, but a voice suddenly spoke up.

"Is this how low House Paxley has fallen, Your Grace?" Ansaac asked, meeting Aamon's glare head on. "Rumors claim that your fiancée was saved by the monster, Cecilion, in exchange for her soul. They say she is a damned woman. Does the Head of House Paxley deign to make bargains with spawns of the Abyss now? You've executed the elders of House Paxley, claiming they nearly killed your future duchess. Or was that merely an excuse to wield the full might of House Paxley without a force to keep you in check?"

Why that oily, greasy...

I made a move to stand, but Berith pulled me back down. "Stay here," he said firmly. "Aamon won't be able to think well if you're in danger, so keep out of it."