With a look of fascination, Cecilia stared at the vampire in front of her. When Alec had said that he was a prisoner from Germany she had instantly taken him for a German, with his stereotypical blond hair and light stubble, no questions asked. Only when she felt the slight tug at the back of her mind, like a tummy feeling that someone was wrong had she started to doubt this.
"Cecilia Roseanne Cullen," Charles said suddenly, as if he was trying the flow of her name. He looked at her with a smirk on his uncanny face, his head lazily leaning against the wall of the cell. "Are you my personal guard now? Surely that's way below your rank."
Cecilia said nothing, but continued to stare. After a while, she too leaned against the back of the chair she had placed in the middle of the dungeons. It was not that sitting was more comfortable than standing, but it was a small habit that made her feel less of what she actually was. "That is your guard," she said, motioning with her hand in the direction of a vampire wearing a grey cloak. "I'm merely passing my time."
"I feel honoured," Charles said pleasantly, placing his hand over the place where his heart once beat. "The right hand of the Volturi visiting me, a lowly jailbird. You must feel like the pope washing the feet of prisoners."
"I wasn't planning on coming anywhere near your feet, thank you very much."
She looked away from the cell, wondering why she actually was in the dungeons. Demetri was away with Felix, on a missing to track some unruly newborns somewhere in the Middle East and would probably return tomorrow if everything went well and thus far the Masters hadn't called her in for a task. Cecilia supposed she was trying to get the whole picture of Charles, his habits and character.
Though she would never admit it out loud, especially not to Alec, she was afraid that the Ancient Ones would want to add Charles to their ranks, blinded by his power. She couldn't care less whether they would cast her aside like they had done with Felix and Demetri when Alec and Jane joined, or the latter two when her gift was discovered, but the prospect of a very good liar on the team filled her with dread.
"There are many rumours following you, Cecilia," Charles said, once again breaking the silence. It was obvious he was trying to bate her and pretending to give in, Cecilia turned back to him and raised her eyebrows in silent questioning. "Like your desire to leave the Volturi."
"Is that so?" she asked calmly. "Pray tell me why I've been loyal for the past thirteen years then, put my life on the line multiple times?"
"You've been loyal, it's true," Charles agreed, nodding softly. Suddenly Cecilia couldn't help but wonder where he had gotten this particular style of clothing from and why he felt the need to dress up like a gentleman from the 1800s. "But to whom, the Volturi? I don't think so. I think you've been loyal to yourself and your own skin, and to that of your soulmate obviously."
Cecilia's eyebrows shot up towards the sky, and she had to remind herself that she was the one on the right side of the bars. Then act like it, she berated herself.
"Don't take my words the wrong way, everyone is only interested in themselves," he said, shrugging as if it was as simple as one plus one equaling two. Cecilia wanted to mention that not everybody was like that, not her family at least, but refrained from it. Her family didn't even know her anymore. "And I'm very interested in myself, which is why I want the two of us to make a deal."
Cecilia straightened her spine, folded her hands over her knees and stared at Charles with newfound curiosity. "Do bore me."
Charles's red eyes snapped to the grey guard standing impassively near the end of the corridor. "Away with that guard first."
Cecilia looked the lower-rank guard in the eyes, before giving him a slight nod. Not a split second later, he had disappeared, the flicker of the torch from the passing air the only sign he had been here at all. Suppressing a sly smile she turned back to Charles, who was still smiling in that uncanny and somewhat diplomatically correct way.
"You see, we have a common goal, Cecilia. We both want to leave these dungeons. Now you might argue that I'm the one behind the bars, but I beg to differ." Charles allowed silence to fall, looking at her smugly, as if daring her to disagree. She remained impassive, making sure not to give anything away. "Now, I can see you agree, so that's where my proposition comes in. It's all very simple, no strings attached. You will organise an audience for me with the Ancient Ones, and I'll lie for the both of us. It's as easy as that, and both of us get to leave easily and quietly."
"For all I know you're lying right now," Cecilia countered immediately. As soon as she saw Charles' face light up, she knew she had made a mistake. Or maybe not a mistake, but at least replied the way he had wanted her to.
"Ah, but you do know, don't you?" Charles said, leaning forward with an enthusiastic expression on his face. "Because you knew when I lied to you about my name. My gift is harder to work on people who notice the little details, and you notice all of them."
She did, just as she noticed how he was flattering her right now, hoping to increase his chances of her agreement. Forcing the corners of her mouth upward in a flawless smile, Cecilia stood up from her chair. "Very well," she said, watching Charles' expression change into one of shock triumphantly. "I agree to your proposition."
"Truly?" Charles asked, sounding a little bewildered himself. "I had expected you to ask more questions."
"I know," she answered immediately, the smug tone audible through her voice. "And truly."
Not waiting for another reply, she made her exit from the dungeons. On her way out she took a peek into the first cell, a genuine smile coming to her lips as she saw the heap in the corner of the cell. After that, she followed her way into the library, her favourite place to pass time.
Instead of walking to the rows upon rows stacked from floor to ceiling with books from countless eras, she found her usual place near the windows overlooking the gardens. The library was located on one of the higher floors of the castle, which made the gardens look oddly small, but even more magical. A thin layer of snow covered everything, from the ancient statues to the trees that had lost their leaves weeks ago.
Placing her hands on the windowsill, Cecilia leaned forward until her forehead almost touched the cold glass, lost deep in thoughts. She remembered the first time she and Demetri had walked in the gardens together. She had been engulfed with homesickness, but still interested enough to make small talk with her soulmate, though she hadn't known back then. There had been a formality and distance between them that belonged to another time period, and which had gradually disappeared over time.
"If only you had written out your thoughts every time you've come here to ponder, half the library would be filled with your mind."
The sentence sounded more like one big sigh than actual words and when Cecilia turned around, a pleasant smile had found its way to her face and she curtsied slightly. Marcus was staring at her with the same unbothered expression he always wore, but in his eyes, she could recognize the fascination. That was the thing with this particular Ancient One, he appeared as the living embodiment of permanent boredom, but if you knew were to look a whole world of unknown emotions would be opened to you.
"If I had written out my thoughts every time I've come here there would be no more paper and ink to be found," Cecilia replied, chuckling softly. She turned back around to stare out the window, Marcus joining her side in silence. She wondered how he was able to walk around with such heavy clothes and cloaks and yet didn't produce a single sound.
"You are good at the game, it's part of the reason why Aro keeps you close. As our right hand, some might argue," Marcus said, breaking the silence. Cecilia didn't bother to play dumb or deny any of the words, knowing that Marcus was one of the few people she would never be able to fool. Both his gift and his knowledge of general human nature gained over the centuries made it impossible. "It's also why I urge you not to make any hasty decisions, especially not ones that would put us in a position where we'd have to dispose of you."
"Is that a threat?" Cecilia asked quietly. Though she didn't feel particularly threatened, she couldn't help but wonder why in heaven's name Marcus had decided to say those words at this moment. For thirteen years she had been planning her escape, carefully scheming and plotting for the right circumstances and if a simple-minded jackass like Charles who couldn't even save his own ass with the gift he had was going to ruin all of it, she would make sure he would regret it for all eternity.
Marcus heaved a big sigh, words lost in it. "You know very well it isn't."
"Very well," Cecilia replied, not bothering to look at Marcus. The stone of the windowsill should have felt cold against her skin, but the two oddly matched in temperature. It was those little things that every now and then still managed to capture her attention. Rising her head, she looked up at Marcus. "In that case, I have something to report about the prisoner caught by the Webers."
The corners of his mouth twitched up, forming a barely noticeable but very pleased smile. "Good."