She was in the waiting area.
But she was craving for wine.
Really.
Craving wine.
And it was not sudden. She knew it was coming. She hadn't had it since she'd given birth.
Lie.
Cain replied in her mind.
And it irked her. More of a scrunch of a sideways of her lip in response. Of course it was. They've only been married for a few weeks. And to hell if she'd ever get pregnant, or if she'd given birth in an earlier event before that. She would kill him.
Damn Renesmee.
If it weren't for her sadness and ridiculous friendsickness that she was having, she would've accused her of dizziness, food poisoning.
Her, and her expensive bottles. How she remembered they were all branded, aged, and they were all stored, merged together to keep its expensive taste and senses.
And she was salivating.
And she was craving for it now. She churned for it. And she was getting head-sickness for the drop of its grapey, expensive taste.
She would've miraculously called her being the root of a sin of food poisoning.
She started-- faded, her mind clouding as it wafted off into thin air as she silently drooled. Spacing out and not minding the magazine that she'd just opened. Her gaze of a color blurred towards the colorful pictures before her.
A scenery. Of pine trees green as grass, and apparently of a forest and near a mountained hill, it seems.
And it didn't happen to help that a couple passed by, holding a pair of Starbucks in their hands, passing by her. Snapping her back to reality.
Of course, she could smell it.
She hated her keen sense of smell, just as much she could sense the permeating sweet perfume of younger humans, much like herself before, she just didn't know where to buy it.
The audacity of humans. She stared at them, passing by, as a couple of walking legs passed by her as well. Living, and breathing carefree, in lavish as if they owned the world.
And it was coffee and the other, mint.
And chocolate sprinkles. She stared at it. How it gooed tiny droplets of cold ice from its cup, and she knew that it was good. Hell of a good treat to bring back home and drink on the way. Before they check-up on you, at least.
She knew.
The woman was holding a sprinkled mint, chocolate chip- kind of cup, it seemed. While the other, a man younger and taller than she was, next to her and what he looked like- to be glee as he sipped his coffee, chocolate beans, permeated her nose of smell, and she couldn't be much more envious. And he looked to be very much happy holding it down, holding a chocolate coffee infused.
She was really salivating. Like right now.
The other one was definitely had roses of a syrup and mints. She hated her. She drooled. Although she looked a lot like her when she was younger. Right after she graduated from high school. And now it was all that she wanted -she just had to get it.
And wine. Too. Her mind reminded.
She hated that she was staring. But she had to. Salivating without actually puking her guts out. She was glad she wasn't reciprocative of transferring from one mile to another in a heartbeat, like the crazy species of what she was right now.
She needed to go. Now.
And she strictly memorized, barely- or had a memory lane of imaging the shops that passed her like a tree dome when she entered for the waiting area. As if taunting her. With its blinding lights and the products they offer. A shame that she didn't go to visit earlier and buy herself an early gift for her upcoming birthday.
For herself. To go and look for anything that she might've been interested in.
Airports sold winery and chocolate, she remembered. They have desserts and other mouthwatering sweet desserts to bring back to their home country. As presents or as a memoir of their visit to the country. And she wasn't about to pass it up anytime soon. It was urgent. And she had to go now. But she was worried how Cain would react, or how he would respond.
Averithe wished she wouldn't have to ask. Buy them all and grab them all in an instance. Just the wine. She promised. She took a heave breath in.
Cain, who was reading a magazine open on the side provided while his laptop, tapping away on the keys of ignition, "Cain, can we go back to the and go the shopping mall back on the block?" She turned sideways as she asked.
"What, why?" He didn't turn to look at her. Couldn't he sense the urgency in her question?
By the face, Averithe knew he hesitated. She didn't knew what was wrong with him. It was by a long shot that he would agree immediately. And it didn't help that he slightly looked away -from an eye contact, guiltily, somewhat, before typing away again. Turning back to her.
"All right, but-"
She stood up. Deliberately, that it gave Cain a shock. Much to her surprise as well. She didn't know he had it in him. As she hovered over him, dawned on him, a figure two feet tall over Cain himself. She spun.
"Averithe, wait!" Cain called out.
She strudded. And apparently Averithe might have forgotten that his laptop was open and that it was charging. He better take care of that quick.
She would have to remember where it was, or read the signs of a neon plastered on the roof of the ceiling. Or she would dread the moment of asking Cain the question of 'where' the chocolate is.
She had to go and buy it. And just drink some damn wine.
She briskly walked as her sling back swayed along with her, as Cain caught up behind her, "Don't buy too much of wine bottles, okay. It could get us caught."
"Yeah- yeah, I get it, all right." She snapped, her boots as if crunching in response.
Cain had a long, pressurised moment. Standing beside her. It was starting to get bleak. He knew it was blood wine. And he didn't have the appetite nor the words to inform it to her. She might like it. Heck, he'd tell her after she'd finished the whole bottle. He didn't know if she liked it or not. In most cases, he would've gotten the privilege to drink all else if she didn't like it. He smirked.
"What?" She turned to look at him.
His small smile dropped. "Nothing." He looked away.
He better. And it seemed, that it was because Averithe got a little knowing and a little possessive with her wine bottles she bought-- knowing her, she might've drunk it and puke it right after. Maybe she would've liked it, tasting the first drop of gulp of a single blood wine bottle.
And all the while that Averithe was busy.
While Cain followed her, as if guiding her but in a sense of being just an accompaniment beforehand, and how she was now too busy searching And reading for prescriptions, as if careful, but she knew she would just drink them all in one go. She wouldn't get dizzy-- perhaps she just had an immune system.
And after countless time of looking around and going behind racks, she finally settled her eyes on this one-- she decided on a white bottle. Rest of the red bottles she'd passed and would rather pass it by, she didn't know how this one tasted. And Cain didn't seem to protest.
Standing silently beside her, as if scrutinizing her over. And it seemed glorious enough that it looked to be a nice shape and color. A white wine. She might've had to grab the red one. She looked to the side and grabbed a red, the reddest bottle she could've ever witnessed with both of her eyes. The color seemed surreal, so red, like a Ruby, but it was wine made out of grapes. And it smelled divine, of flowers and Rhumme, as if she could taste it.
She took a small heave of breath. She couldn't wait to taste it.
To head over and drink the heck of a bottle of it.
"Let's go." She announced.
As she looked over to Cain, he had that look in his eyes that he also wanted some. And she wondered why he didn't just grab one to pay for it. He seemed too much of a pro not to do it.
Maybe it would be one of the tastiest wine she'd never tasted before. She glanced down.
And she couldn't wait to get home to taste and drink it. Open it, tasting the regular, familiar taste of wine, grape, sweet fresh taste of a fruit. She could almost hear her stomach reply in a grunt to that thought.
How it would blossom if she could've tasted it at the moment.
She wanted something special -one that wouldn't make her feel like she'd regret buying it. Maybe two was enough. It was suspicious enough of the color and the oddly, expensive shape that she was holding with two of her hands.
But she didn't care. More like she didn't mind. A trip to Rome is a gift for one-self. She might've read, or the other way around.
She spun, and headed towards the cashier, rounded up the racks and waited in line for the line to finally die down and she could pay for her souvenir.
She sighed. Glancing down at the bottle of wine she was holding. It looked expensive. She wished she would love it enough the same as when she bought it. She didn't know if she wanted to.
"We have 10 minutes left." Cain announced suddenly. By her side.
It was as if she didn't know.
"I know. That's why we're waiting for the cashier now." Averithe -- in a hassle that she replied.
She didn't know.
And that it was only a few hours, that they had arrived home. Seemed like Cain had booked for a private jet instead. Looked like a whole lot of an airplane to her.
She pouted at the thought.
And-
once they have arrived home, she recognized the road, the smell of the line trees from afar, of the trees and where they used to go through, and back to his house. And it seems that the portal was not so invincible to her anymore. Like how she could manage now to see the surfaces of the ripples of the transparent-somewhat glass, as they went through, as the butler drove them from the cold lands and back to their home turf.
She was surprised to see him waiting by the airport and back to a fancy car clad in black. Or what it was. Seemed to be- a dark color.
And what she saw as she passed by the trees, and saw the familiar gravel coming into her sight. She knew she was home. And not far from it. She could already see, or rather sense the area of his house. And to note that she saw the roof of it, pointing out, and making itself visible for her, as if saying,
'I am here, come back home to visit me.'
--It seemed to taunt her.
And she couldn't help but scrutiny her lip of disagreement. She hadn't expected to come home this fast. This quick that she had to arrive and grab a car to arrive home.
It was a hassle.
More of what a short time that she couldn't spend anymore time with her now new best friend, Renesmee. And she had regretted it a whole lot. Now that she was far away. She really wished that her pendant could now grant her a single wish of dragging her by the hand, along with her, back to where she was, maybe right here in this car, and appear suddenly next to her, in the middle of it.
As a wall barrier between her and Cain.
And Cain hadn't said that much since the ride. Maybe a couple words and sentences.
It seemed he was a whole lot relaxed -- and happy.
She didn't dare turn to look at him.
And as they arrived home, the familiar feeling and senses of the surrounding area of the house, seemed to seep into her- a familiar vibe- it seems, or what she calls it- his house of a territory.
Territorial vampire. Her mind seemed to call out.
Or smell, seemed to permeate back into the air and which she could smell. As if welcoming her home, inviting her to live in the household of the house itself, or which she should call it now -- their house.
And she saw the butler greeting against her, offering a slight bow before coming closer to the door.
She was home.
As she got off, and closed the taxi cab door to a shut, while Cain got off and brought down all their luggages, she couldn't help but notice the scent and the appearance of the flowers that she once planted near the edge of the house- the side garden.
It was a time when she and the butler planted them --her out of boredom. And she would be ecstatic to do that again. As she gave out a smile, and wafted off to the butler as he had a smile permeated in the air, she gave a slight quick nod before turned to help Cain out.
It was a hassle.
As they approached and reached the set of the doorstep, the butler happily smiled and opened the door for them, "Welcome back, I was happy to be an acquaintance of you, sir Cain. I was happy to forsee and take care of the house while you were gone. And happy wedding." He glanced down at Averithe.
The butler replied in his sentence.
And as Averithe got closer, she didn't realise that it was not the same butler. He might be his brother, or somehow similarly related to the one she had been living with before-after, seeing that the butler had been gone quite missing a lot since their wedding day, and since he had taken her to the altar- on their wedding day.
Averithe turned to look at Cain.
"My butler had some business to do. And he had gone home early to see things done, take care of some documents." Cain replied seeing Averithe's face.
"He drove us here." He looked back to see his butler taking care and bringing the luggages of their belongings. With much ease, Averithe gave so much as a thought. "He could've had taken an early flight, -- without a plane." He muttered.
Averithe turned back to look at the butler. They were awfully.. could be mistaken as the same person. She stared at him. They looked to be awfully similar.
Might be easier to travel on foot.
She thought. Maybe she would've had to try that one day.
Averithe nodded at the butler as he opened the door, for her to see, wide open, the same that it already was.
"Master Cain I have received a letter re from the cranny of the door, you might want to check it out. I have not moved it since it came." He informed, before turning back and helped the old butler carry their luggages, closing the taxi cabin with a shut.
Cain turned and as Averithe followed in behind him, he looked around, and saw a piece of letter laying on the ground. He crouched and picked it up.
To the side, near the wall and near the doorway. He bent to pick it up.
Fumbling the letter around, and opening it with a pluck, plucked the wax out of its place and so much as a fumble before opening the letter itself, a single paper quite not so thinly made and sent, that she observed.
"Mrs. and Mr. Hvrзddsig." He read.
"W-what is it?" She asked.
Almost made a little bit of a tip-toe on her feet to see what it was, but of course she couldn't.
Cain cleared his throat. Seeming that he was annoyed for getting interrupted, casting a slight glance at Averithe before turning his gaze back to the letter.
She scrutinized her eyes.
"It's.. an invitation." His voice spoke hoarse, without dismissing.
And that it wrote.
"To Mr and Mrs. Hvэrradsig, --its a letter, congratulations on your wedding day. As of to this letter of importance, we would be pleased to inform you that you are invited to one of the Grand Master's royal balls." He read.
As Averithe rounded up the corner and came up closer to the side to peek down to see what he was reading.
"For which it is, for the most inconvenience that most of our community will be wearing black and white, we expect you to do the same.
For formality purposes. Of course, that is."
"To all eligible young men and women who have come of age or who are eligible by age to attend the ball, are welcomed and invited to attend. Those who correspond with the house of the Grand Master, are obliged to come. It has been generously, a really exciting moment of the year for the Master to celebrate his succession"
"It will be held in due time." She read.
Exact date: 24 February / 2045
The dress codes are as below:
White, Black, Sunkist, or Navy.
Any Pastel gowns are passable.
The theme: it will be a Royal ball.
She read.
"They are most recommended, and each of you invited guests will be able to meet the family of Grand Maister- if you would attend. Who would be following up on the colors of White, and black, who would also be attending in the celebratory of His Honor."
He continued.
"Children are to be dressed in the same colors. And all members are expected to celebrate the commemoration and a celebratory of the success. For the construction of the country's improvements and the importance of the peoples' well-being."
"It is to be announced that the civilization will become more prosper and in fulfilling the needs of the people, young and old, of this celebration of succession, and in the near future. It will be very most important to see you there."
"Most expectantly, to Maister Cain, and his new wife. Happily married and newly wed. To the house of Hvзrradsig, written, held and signed privately by the Grand Master."
"And from the House of Silvainéa."
Sincerely,
the Grand Master.
It read in bold.
Apparently, she had to read it out. She scrutinized her eyes. "T-the house of Silvainéa?" The name rang in resonance, "Wasn't that.."
"-Yes." He cut off her sentence.
"And you expect me to come?" She asked, the very question she wouldn't expect to say through her mouth. As she remembered it to be--
It was the house-- of dignified.. treachery.
"I forgot- they were supposed to hold an annual ball of the year." He spoke.
She crossed her arms and almost squinted her eyes at him, looking up. She didn't know what to say to him.
The one who held her mother captive.
She didn't know what to say.
"They're holding a ball.. how'd I suppose to.." She almost spoke in a whisper.
"Words travel fast.." He responded, murmured. "Apparently you are married to me." He added.
"What do they want with me?" She asked.
"Nothing. They.." He sighed, "It's just an annual royal ball they hold everytime, and we apparently have to come- the both of us."
She gave him a look.
"I'm in charge, and I'm one of the higher ups. So." He stopped.
"And- I'm invited." It was as if she's telling herself. Incredulously, her arms still crossed.
It wasn't the dress that she was worried about now, it was what they would expect of her, and how they would see her, and what they would expect her to do once she'd made her appearance.
"So, who's the Master exactly?" He asked.
"The Master. He's the one and only founder, the original of where the vampire were gathered, and from there they formed a cult. To where the civilization was built, and to where it is built until now. He's the leader." He looked at her.
She looked at him back. If she was wiser, older, and a better vampire of who she could be proud to say it out with her mouth, she might've known what the best and what was the proudest thing she would've done. Thought about, and what to say to him now.
She might have to attend. Together with Cain.
She might change her mind in a moment. But right now she was just moody.
For the moment she was too busy thinking in her head, to be able to feel fear or to imagine what he was capable, or what he was planning to do.
And in hopeful manner, that he didn't remember her, or her captive mother. Or any of it. Per say, she just hoped it wasn't the worst. It would be most terrifying if the Master- had her recognized and had planned her something -- somewhat.
For now, she didn't know what to do. Maybe.
Or how to act towards it.
"We're invited..?" She asked slowly.
"And I'm supposed to come?" As if making sure.
"Yes. I have to attend. And you are too. We're married. So, we're kind of related now."
"When is it again?" She asked.
"No longer than a week or so." He spoke.
Averithe jittered lightly, taking a light step back- almost pacing.
She was slightly against this. She didn't know anyone who she would speak to, if any trouble. How she would survive the ball, nor the last ball she'd ever attended.
Heck, the last person or vampire she had ever talked to was a full vampire- full-time.
It was Renesmee, and she was nearly her age. Nearly.
She raised a slight eyebrow. Giving his calm expression, it was as if he was in cloud land, looking at her. "You know that was the person who caught my mother, right?" She asked, a mere question. She was even surprised to hear her ask that kind of question herself.
"Yes," He heaved a small sigh, looking away.
Bringing his eyes back to her, "But we might not know who it was exactly. It might be the act of his neighbouring house, we wouldn't know."
"And he wants us to come? The nerve." She commented, as if to herself.
"Well, I'd be better wearing my most lavish gown in my cupboard." It had almost sounded as a sarcasm.
"Well, if we want to stay low we better be in our best disguise and behavior," He slowly looked up, "And we better attend according to the dress code." He looked up from the letter towards Averithe.
And he gave her a look.
"What?"
"From all the dresses and clothes I've bought you." He muttered. "You better-- wear something decently appealing and appeasing to the eyes." He muttered. And it was almost as if it was a swear to himself.
He looked over to her.
"I know that look." He commented outloud.
"What look?" She replied.
"That look."
"I don't know what you're talking about. And you're just making things up." She quickly rejected, crossed her arms in defense.
"You're going to ravage it all, now wouldn't you?"
It was not more of a question.
"No."
"Averithe." He scolded.
She raised an eyebrow in return. "We'll see." She still had her arms crossed. "I wasn't planning on doing anything stupid. But it depends on how the event would go-- if they were nice people, or if they were asking to be eaten." She giggled, which came out more as of a snigger.
"You better behave yourself." He gave a displeased look at her.
He brought the paper down to the side as soon as he realized the reflection of his face against the paper, glancing over to Averithe. "Averithe, promise me you'll be in your best behavior and you won't cause any trouble."
"We'll see." She replied to him.
"And you better wear a gown or a dress according to the dress code." He gave her a pointed look. She smiled, a look that most certainly had fun in teasing the expression on his face. Him and his ridiculous expressions.
Considering the choices of that what he had as a landlord --close enough -- she might as well have gone through it all for best of it. For herself. Indeed, life was getting lived off, and she was loving it to the fullest.
He gave her a flat look.
"Then we better be in our best behaviour." She replied in response. A flatted face at him.
"Wouldn't we." A smirk went up to his face, looking away. He might've thought of something, something pleasant. And he brought it down in an instant, as he scathed his gaze in a glaze at her. "And you better behave. You better not try anything funny." He looked over at her.
He blinked.
Well, getting a little mischievous here and there isn't all that bad.
As he realized that it echoed against his head, he came over to cover his mouth with his hand.
And all she could do was look at him. Was he even hearing himself? He started to sound insane. Maybe she was just imagining it.
"We better be in our best behavior." He repeated again. Almost a warning.
"Now, wouldn't we?" She repeated again with a smirk. She didn't know why she had bad omens of a thought in the first place.
Or this might be a fun ball indeed.