"Marquess Monroe." Alpha Theodore entered the meeting room.
"Alpha Theodore." Marquess Edith stood up from his chair and extended his left hand for shaking. Alpha Theodore raised a greying eyebrow but shook the extended hand of the pure-blooded vampire nevertheless.
Night had fallen down upon the land of Rotus. The meeting room they sat in was spacious with candle stands screwed into the walls to keep it illuminated. The tables and chairs were set up in the middle of the room with a chandelier hanging above. On the left corner of the room, bottles of wines and other alcoholic beverages were kept decorated in the glass shelves. On the right, three large arch shaped windows looked down upon the town of Summerswind.
The town square was visible from there. The magnificent marble statue of Darthman, the Silver blooded, stood more proud than ever. It's eyes stared right into the building, through the arched windows. The moonlight bathed it in an eerily beguiling glow. It looked more ethereal, more lively than it looked in the day. The hollow eyes seemed to have life energy breathed back into them. Their stare pierced the soul of onlookers, as if warning.
Edith had heard of the tales of valor of Darthman. The first Alpha King. The ruler of the werewolf realm. The greatest mortal devotee of Moon God Aathir. The ballads the nomadic werewolves sang described their story as one of pain, suffering, longing yet empowering and emboldening.
They spun the tale of a young shifter slave of demons who only found solace in the moonlight of Red Island, an otherworldly place where outcast demons reside. They sung of his tragic past, of his exploitation in the hands of the horrendous creatures. They spoke of how one night, a man with long white hair and piercing black eyes appeared in front of him and asked for his utmost devotion. They stated how he hesitated initially but caved in as the man— who called himself Aathir— gradually healed his battered soul. They composed melodies about the declaration of love and war. They hollered about the decline of Red Island Demons and their Warlord Zerishi.
"When I received your letter—" Edith's attention was snapped back to the present as he heard Alpha Theodore speak as he sat down in the chair, right in front of the Marquess, "— requesting for an audience two days ago, I did not reckon it would be this soon you would be meeting me."
"My manners command me, Alpha Theodore." Edith occupied his designated seat as well. He opened the buttons of his blue overcoat, his blue waistcoat in full display. A small dagger, poisoned with silver, hung upon the waistband of his trousers which his overcoat hid from the Alpha's view. "And they command me to value the preciousness of time. I deemed tarrying any further to be unnecessary."
"Well said." Alpha Theodore rubbed his wrinkled hands together.
"I hope you find your stay comfortable here. How was the journey?" Alpha Theodore continued.
"I could not be any more grateful for your hospitality. Everyone here is immensely—" Edith licked his lips, "—accommodating. The journey as well was pleasant. Though, I happen to be a resilient traveller. Hence, the horses and my servants would be better judges for that." He chuckled.
"It is good to hear you found no troubles on your way here."
"I found enough at my borders, Your Highness."
The Alpha's face slowly contorted at the Marquess' statement.
"Pray tell, what is the matter?"
"I wrote to you." Edith leaned back and stretched his legs under the table.
"About the two of our citizens you have detained?" Alpha Theodore leaned forward, resting his hands on the table and entwining his fingers.
"About the two witches we caught," Edith reformed the sentence, "—who are citizens of Rotus."
"I would not deny they are our citizens. Our foreign relation ministry has already given yours our confirmation," Alpha stated with utmost confidence. He continued. "In fact, this matter is on the agenda to be discussed in the meeting between the foreign ministers of the two states. But since the opportunity presents itself, I shall bring this to your attention— the two women you caught— they have been wrongfully detained by you."
"They were caught stocking up combustibles in an abandoned warehouse near our borders," Edith countered.
A glass bowl filled with small pieces of roasted mutton was on the table. A bottle of blood wine for him and mead for the Alpha. Alpha Theodore pursed his lips. Leaning forward, he grabbed the bottle of blood wine and poured Edith a glass. His long blond hair speckled with greys bobbed to the side.
"Combustibles, you say?" He presented Edith the glass which he took with a thank you.
"They are traders, Marquess Edith." He grabbed the bottle of mead. "They have been traders all their lives. They sell the greenwood of specially cultivated Wort trees for years. The two of them are sisters and are continuing to head the business their great grandfather started." Pouring a glass of mead for himself, he took a sip. "Your officers and guards have known the greenwood to be highly combustible for a long time. They know the greenwood is bought and sold— since their great grandfather started this trade, since many others before him did this business. Why sudden change of heart?"
"Hearts change when tragedy strikes, Your Highness." Edith was yet to drink. His glass of blood wine was placed to the side, his fingers drummed the table. "Our late Duke is suspected to have been murdered. And if that was not anguishing enough, arsons are trending among the miscreants. You could fathom how flared someone of authority would be at the meagre of anything that burns."
"One must not resort to massacring all the cats if one stray bites you. As I said, they had been trading the greenwood for years. Hence, the arsons had nothing to do with my citizens." He chugged down half the beverage in one go.
"This is not about the pain one suffers from a bite of one stray cat, Alpha Theodore." Edith sighed. His left hand was placed casually on the table. The index finger of his other hand circled the rim of his glass. The serpent ring twinkled. "This is about the fear of a pounce of cats being after our blood. This is not about what has happened in the past. This is about the challenges we will be facing in the future."
"I concede." Alpha Theodore nodded his head, "But accusing our citizens of being witches—"
"Interruption is a grave offence." Edith's sharp voice coldly cut off the Alpha. The pureblooded vampire sat straight in his chair and placed his feet firmly on the floor. "However, my conscience would not let me breath a second more in peace—" Brushing back his raven hair, he rested his right leg's ankle on his left leg's knee, "—if I let you speak the words you were going to." He tilted his head to the side, the yellow light of the tiny flames of candles striking his pale skin. His dark red eyes gleamed.
Alpha Theodore regarded him with interest and chugged down the rest of the mead.
"Please excuse me for this disregard of customary politesse but I must ask of you to halt here. We are not accusing anyone of being a witch." Edith affirmed. "One is accused of theft. One is accused of murder. One is accused of fraud. One is accused of crimes. Being a witch is not a crime. It is hardly something someone should be accused of."
Both elbows on the armrest of the chair, Edith interlocked his fingers together in front of face, "Your citizens are not accused of being witches. That is a vile notion, Your Highness. They are accused of partaking in arson."
"I am glad we do agree on something, Marquess Edith. Witches should not face prejudice for their identities." Alpha Theodore cleared his stand on the matter. "However, Count Douglas does not seem to be on board with this idea." He leaned back with a sweet smile, "Have you ever attempted at persuading him?"
"Count Douglas is not present here at the moment. I do not see any reason for discussing him and his opinions." Edith toyed with his snake shaped ring, rotating it around in its place as he cocked an eyebrow at the Alpha.
"Defending him already?" Alpha Theodore raised an eyebrow and laughed. "News travel fast. His daughter has accepted the proposal of your dearest cousin, has she not?"
"Indeed. But this is hardly the time to discuss that." Marquess Edith deflected the question politely.
"Why not?" Alpha Theodore probed. "Douglas family and Monroe family are uniting with a tie of marriage. This is an important affair."
"And personal as well. I would be visiting you again to invite you to the wedding celebrations if Lady Kiara and my cousin decide they are suitable for each other." His thumb swiped at the green eyes of the snake deftly.
"You do not seem quite inclined to speak of the union, Marquess Edith."
"This union is least of my concerns, Alpha Theodore."
"Is it so? Does marriages not interest you? You will have to marry someday."
"You seem too interested," Marquess chuckled and retorted, "Is it because of Ian?"
A flash of emotion flickered through the Alpha's face. The Marquess seized the fleeting moment of vulnerability. He smiled politely, convincingly hiding the cunning behind it.
"Your son is of age. Twenty eight, I heard. It is a pity his mate remains undiscovered." Offering a concerning glance, he continued, "He would have made such a great leader."
"He would become a great leader." The old man's face hardened.
"Oh?" The Marquess raised both his eyebrows, "Did he finally agree to marry someone else?"
"Yes, he did. Ian was born to lead. He would never abandon the responsibilities he shoulders."
The Marquess smiled at the lie. It gratified him, the irritation and discomfort seeping out of the Alpha at the mention of his unmated son.
"My apologies if I made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention." He cocked his head to the side and nodded at the Alpha.
"All forgiven."
The alpha poured another glass of mead for himself and took a sip. Edith glanced at his own untouched glass of blood wine. Bending forth, he picked up the glass.
"May we discuss the situations with your citizens again?" Edith asked. He slipped the stem of the wine glass between the pads of his thumb and fingers, holding it firmly.
"The citizens you have held captive."
"The citizens who are accused of partaking in arson— yes, those."
"You are jumping to conclusions. This ordeal has led to distrust between the states." The Alpha shook his head.
"Then give us evidences that indicates otherwise. We want peace. But we lack information and mourn the loss of our leader." With the glass at slight angle, he rotated it in small circles.
"Are our harmonious relations with your Dukedom not proof enough? We would never do anything that harms our relations with Rotheward. We have gained as much as you from the past years of harmony and would want it to continue." Alpha Theodore gulped the mead. "As our ministry stated, you are free to continue the investigation. We would not interfere with that. However, since the security of our citizens is concerned— it would help us get better sleep at night if you agreed to let two of our officers be a part of the investigation team." He munched down few pieces of roasted mutton.
"Many of us do not trust you." Marquess Edith tapped on the table that separated him from the Alpha. The wine swirled and sloshed against the glass wall.
"If this continues, must it be safe to assume the years of effort we put into building the relations from scratch— all amounted to nothing?"
"Certainly so." Marquess Edith lifted up the bowl of the glass up to his nose and sniffed. His sensitive nose picked up a noticeably strong aroma, with a delectable undertone of blood.
"A pity."
"A pity indeed." Marquess Edith repeated the Alpha's words, "Only it does not have to be." He sipped the wine from his glass. The rusty taste of blood and bitterness laced his tongue. Invoking the memory of the five male prisoners he had killed as he tried quenching his hunger a few hours ago.
"We would not accede to agree with giving up on our citizens, Marquess Edith. Neither your side happens to be reasonable. Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean precisely what I say. As it is, it happens to be a pity, a dreary condition. Years of trust, efforts— all going down in drain. Progress shall not persist with any one of us must this situation continue. We are neighbors. Living side by side. Harmony between us shall lead to prosperity. Anything diverting from this shall become the sole reason of our downfall."
"I concede. What do you suggest?"
"A deal." Another sip of the wine, another drop of kerosene added to the flame of hunger. "A chance for you to come clean and a form of apology on the behalf of us for reacting negatively to falsehood."
"I am interested."
"A chance to wash off the stains of accusations— convince Saintess Lyra to tell us whatsoever she knows about the symbols, sigils in rites and rituals of the witches." Edith gulped down the rest of the wine, his eyes burning red as he realized he must have to drink from at least another two.
He wondered whether the butler had cleaned up after he left the room in shambles. It was not a pretty sight. Five torn dead bodies, scattered across the room. Being a messy eater was one of his many flaws.
"And your apology?" Alpha's voice filterated in his ears, and sudden thought of charging at him crossed his mind. He had drank from many kinds— but he never got a chance to suck out the blood from the body of an Alpha.
"Marquess Monroe?" The Alpha called out again.
Some other time, Edith thought to himself.
"Your son have not met his mate, yet, right?" He raised his eyebrow and smirked.
A/N: This one is a fairly long chapter...so what do you guys think of Edith Monroe? And what do you think he is planning to do?