Barracks (War of Hearts)

16- Actions

"What did I do?" I ask him, my voice trembling.

"You are donning Cecile's cape. It piques their curiosity."

I'm acutely aware that not everyone is pleased with my presence. However, Xavier does his best to assure me that all will be well. A few others, mostly women who share Stefani's haughty demeanor, make their displeasure known publicly. By the time the feast concludes, I long to vanish into thin air.

"One final toast," Stefani rises from her chair, her gaze sweeping across the room. On cue, the servers circulate, distributing wine glasses to each guest. I've witnessed this scene before, and it ended in disaster. History is about to repeat itself.

I turn to Xavier for reassurance. "What's that?"

"Tradition."

I nod in understanding, but can't shake off the thought that the crimson liquid they're about to consume is real blood.

Stefani continues, "Here is to marriage. Long live love!"

"Long live love!" the crowd echoes.

My gaze remains fixed on Aldaire, who appears disinterested. As they all tilt their cups in unison to drink, I watch them from behind the rim of my cup. I freeze. Aldaire's eyes slowly darken to a pitch black. The veins around his eyes and temples bulge, and the sight of fangs ripping through their mouths sends tremors of fear coursing through me. My eyes scan the line of people standing; most wear the same look of enjoyment as they savor the blood. Finally, I steal a glance at Xavier and Himley, who wear the same spine-chilling mask.

My hand quivers, the glass slipping from my grasp. I dare not raise my gaze, fearful of the sight that awaits.

"Are you alright?" Xavier's voice is laced with concern.

I recoil from his touch.

"Blood?" Himley inquires.

I muster the courage to peek. Stefani's face is a mix of surprise and amusement. "What a disaster!"

My eyes flicker to Aldaire, who wears an expression of understanding.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to clean up." I retreat from the room, my courage deserting me.

Leaning against the sink, a sigh of fear escapes my lips. I am ill-prepared for this game. Hearing footsteps approaching, I hastily wash my face before returning to the stain on my dress. My efforts are in vain; the more I try to remove it, the worse it becomes.

"What a mess. There was no intention of upsetting you," Stefani prattles.

Anger surges within me, but I refuse to grant her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. "It's fine. Accidents happen," I retort with a forced grin, continuing to scrub at the blood, despite knowing it's futile.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything, did you?" If I hadn't been forewarned about Stefani's cunning nature, I might have fallen for her insincere apology.

I rub her shoulders, wishing I could break her instead. "I'll be fine. It's just a stain on a dress, no big deal."

"Great! It's time for the transformation. Won't you join us?"

I shake my head. How could I possibly witness such a thing? Yet, a part of me is intrigued.

Aldaire awaits me by the door, a hint of softness in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'll survive. Aren't you mad at me now?"

"I see no reason to be," he replies, his voice echoing overhead.