Vampyre Bride ✔️

XX⎮Riddles

"Yes, thank you, Milli," Emma grumbled. "I am well aware of all his charms." They were, after all, so indomitable that she'd thought nothing of surrendering her virtue right there on the Saxon tombstones. She'd thanked heaven afterwards that he'd stopped when he had, for whatever reason, because her own probity had been utterly lacking.

"Truly, though, I'd be fair in a quake for you if I wasn't so titillated by it all." Milli stifled her laughter into the same feather pillow that Emma had thrown her with. "Were you at all frightened?"

"To say the least of it," she lied. Well, it was only half a lie. The whole truth of it was that she had been far more thrilled than she wanted to admit to herself. But he is a vampyre! Never forget that.

That inward warning, however, lacked the conviction that might have otherwise been there had not her heart become so delusive where Winterly was concerned. More and more was she becoming dominated by this rush of powerful attraction that she felt for him. But each time she thought to give herself over to daydreams, she would perforce remind herself what he was. And so the cycle perpetuated itself.

"But why should he even suggest such a thing? And out of nowhere besides." Milli chewed the puzzle over on her lip. "Tis most strange."

Emma stroked her own lips with a meditative finger, and than flushed to see her sister's brow arch curiously. "It wasn't ... he did not act without some ... encouragement on my part," Emma admitted. "He kissed me in the abbey; and I'll own to you that I thoroughly kissed him back. Whatever were his impressions or expectations after my ... participation, I did not share them, you may assure yourself of that."

"But you kissed him back? No, I don't believe it! You?" At length, however, her sister's eyes narrowed facetiously to see Emma flying her colors so vividly. "Good heaven! you did too, you little hussy! Is it any wonder you've hidden yourself in your room since then? Oh! Emma—" with a sigh, "to be so bold in a tempest, and so missish now..." Thence began the fervent inquisition: how long exactly had they kissed for? Was Winterly devilish good at it? And were they like to do so again? The girl was in an agony of restive curiosity.

Why she had felt the need to tell her sister, she knew not, for now Milli would never let the matter rest until she had chewed it over and turned it inside out. But, in Emma's defense, the compulsion to confess all had been an overwhelming one, for her heart might have burst otherwise. Winterly had haunted what little sleep she'd had these last few days, and, her sister being her closest and dearest friend, she had wanted — needed — to tell somebody.

Now, however, she was ashamed of her long tongue. Moreover, now that she'd had some days to contemplate that wanton kiss in depth, she was appalled at her own conduct. Perhaps in sharing what she'd kept to herself thus far, some small part of her had hoped to dilute the effect of this power he held over her. Yet no such dilution was forthcoming.

"You must tell nobody, Milli. Promise me!"

"Upon my honor, Emma!" Even in the quickening dawn light, she could see Milli's face clouding with affront. "There was never any question of that." She folded her arms across her chest. "And since you will be so stubbornly unforthcoming, you had better get to your own room, and stop hogging my bed and pillows. Tis dawn after all, and we have a long day ahead of us."

"Stubbornly unforthcoming?" Emma sniffed. "What more is there to say? We kissed and then it rained—"

"Well, well, you admit you were so caught up in a passion you did not even notice an oncoming storm?! Nor mind a good drenching to boot? Better and better!" Her sister was getting facetiously animated again.

It was, therefore, time to take her leave and get on with her morning toilette. She uttered a half-hearted good morning to her sister and tiptoed to the door in her nightshift and robe.