The Prince's Consort Ch. 03

Caitlin twirled the letter opener between her index fingers. It was a pretty thing, she noted after the fact, gold, with a small red gem in its handle. She didn't know enough to assume what type of gem, but if it was what she guessed, this paper cutter would be worth a mint.

She wondered if he left it on purpose, perhaps even vampires were forgetful. But she didn't think so. Not him, and not when he'd put so much effort in preventing her self-harm.

It seemed to be a dare, of sorts.

Considering His Royal Highness Prince Kalen II, she tried to fit what she knew about him together. No matter which way she spun it, it didn't make sense. He was a puzzle, cold and considerate, short-tempered and patient, distant and concerned. As if there were two separate people within him at any moment.

"Kalen." She whispered, not Dale. At least she finally had a name, not just a title.

An idea struck her, even if she couldn't leave... would they allow her to send a letter out? To relieve a frantic mother from uncertainty?

Caitlin rang the bell and waited for Marianne to appear.

The door finally opened, but it was not the servant. Her heart dropped when he slid into the room, "Marianne is gone to market, did you need something."

"Is your princely coffer so wane you cannot hire another staff?" she grumbled, turning her head in disappointment.

Kalen stood still, watching her. He didn't seem amused by her antics, "You can wait upon her return then." and made the move to depart.

"No... please wait!"

He froze, "Yes?"

"I... I'm sorry..." she relented. "This is all so overwhelming, and I'm used to Marianne. Could... could I write a letter to my mother, you know, to tell her I'm alright?"

A glimmer sparked in his eyes as he reentered. "It is possible. Conditionally."

Of course, there were conditions; she took a page from his book and waited for him to continue.

A smile touched his lips, "On the condition that you leave the letter unsealed, and that you do not write about me. You have left with a man called Dale and are exploring the country. Confide to your mother that you are safe and well cared for, as you are." He let it sink in for a moment, "Then, after you hand the letter to Marianne for review, you will go for a ride."

"Where?" She stood from the bed, defensive but confused.

"On horseback, of course. Around the property. It will be good for you, I will not allow you to waste away under my care."

Caitlin had lost some of her riding muscle, even in the half-month she'd been imprisoned here. He was right, and she didn't like admitting it, "Fine. It's a deal."

"Good," Kalen appeared pleased, "The study is unlocked for your use."

She was alone again, sighing into the empty space. The old feelings were beginning to resurface, beneath the resentment she'd built up. More often than not, he was accommodating, compassionate. But she remembered those glittering fangs, the drop of blood that trickled from his lips, her blood.

She wondered if she were a trophy, or merely a blood bag. Kalen had not bitten her since she'd arrived to the mansion, but if he wasn't feeding on her...then who? From the little she knew about vampires, they had to feed solely on live blood. That bit of trivia discovered only through the fantasy books she'd read in her hometown. The council insisted on a well-rounded rotation of books at the community library, despite the strong religious influence from the church.

But a real vampire? Even the townsfolk's superstition didn't run that deep.

Pressing at the secret door, it budged again; she half expected him to be waiting for her. This time, however, the fireplace was cold and empty. A light switch illuminated the room, revealing an ornate desk and chair, the couch Kalen had been sitting on, and a large painting that hung above the mantel. It depicted the beautiful woman she'd seen convening with the Prince. The image caught her looking past the audience, to some distant point with determination and sadness. Clasped in her hands was a rosary, two fingers gripping a Hail Mary bead.

After staring at the woman's visage for far too long, Caitlin shook her head and searched the desk drawers for a paper and writing utensil, finding everything she needed in the center compartment.

Sitting down to write, the pen hovered above the fresh white parchment. What would she say to a mother who'd lost her only child? Whom she'd never see again?

I'm alive. It's okay. I'm sorry. Caitlin wanted to write but didn't. If she said anything about what actually happened, it'd be sent back to her to revise, or worse, destroyed without her ever knowing. She had to be careful, Kalen's conditions were clear.

So, she steadied her hand, and lied.

Mom,

I'm so sorry I left abruptly, didn't have time to say goodbye. I'm exploring the country with Dale, the man who'd come through town. You didn't know, but we met in the groves. He asked me to come with him and I did. I've had a wonderful time so far, seen so much that I didn't know existed. I don't know if it's possible for you to write back, as we haven't settled anywhere yet. Please, know that I'm safe and well provided for. I will write when I'm able. Send my love to Auntie Alice, Uncle Joe, and the cousins.

I love you.

Caitlin

She'd been proud of herself for not crying in days, but the old hurt welled up again, spilling a tear from her lid. Caitlin moved the parchment away so the spidery letters didn't blur.

Unable to bring herself to finish the task, she left the letter and paced back to the couch, sitting opposite from where he'd been and crossing her legs. The tears came freely, bringing with them sobs she could not hold in any longer. The room echoed back her despondence until she could not remain upright. She spread across the couch, buried her face in a pillow, and slept.

*

The letter had gone away, disappeared off the mahogany surface. And she'd gone on the ride, as he expected her to.

Marianne led her to the stables, it was the first breath of fresh air in nearly a month. "Her name is Alba," The servant introduced, "She's trained and will be good practice as you get used to riding again."

The white filly lowered her head, long lashes batted over dark brown eyes. Caitlin lifted a loose fist to the mare's nose for her to sniff. "How old?"

"Three years, more or less." Marianne said, "Do you ride with a saddle?"

"I didn't... but it's been a while." She admitted.

"Then you should, I'll have the stable hand saddle her up." Marianne called a name Caitlin didn't quite catch, and a youth stumbled from the back of the barn, grinning like a fool. "Caitlin, this is Lev, he's a mute, but the animals love him."

She watched the lanky young man saddle the horse with expertise that would make the farmers green. Less than a minute later, Alba was ready to lead out. She followed Lev obediently out to the yard.

Marianne held the reigns, "Get Bailey saddled," she commanded Lev, who scrambled off to do as he was bid, "Lev will ride with you today, you can go anywhere in the valley, stay away from the woods, we lost a young stallion to the big cats that live nearby." She eyed Caitlin, "Please don't make us chase you down. The Master does not give second chances."

The youth returned with a massive steed that dwarfed her bright filly. He could out pace the mare with ease, as evidenced by the extensive muscular structure beneath dark brown hair.

"Yeah... okay." She relinquished, stepping into the stirrup.

Alba carried her weight as she moved her into a trot. The wind against Caitlin's face brought back memories of flying through the fields on her old mare. Alba was faster though, sleek and meant for racing. She pushed the filly into a full run, both enjoying the exercise.

The sun was high in the sky, and Marianne had packed her saddle with some provisions for lunch, if she decided to stay out that long. Lev kept pace but didn't intercede as she walked the filly around. Soon enough, she knew the horse was growing thirsty, as her own tongue was dry.

"Is there a stream nearby?" she asked her companion, whose eyes brightened. He motioned her to follow and she did, till they came to a mountain stream in a clearing.

The birds chirped and trilled at their arrival, Caitlin stepped down from the saddle and led Alba to the water, where she sucked at the burbling stream. Lev also did the same with Bailey.

The youth hadn't pushed his presence onto her during the ride, he didn't make her uncomfortable. Caitlin pulled out the luncheon from the saddle and laid out a picnic cloth, unwrapping the food, "Did you want some?" she offered to Lev.

He smiled and shook his head, the unruly mop of hair bouncing around, concealing his eyes. Lev swiped his bangs away and turned towards his horse, stroking its flank.

Cucumber sandwiches, simple but delicious. Caitlin could ask for something more substantial after the run, when she'd need the protein. For now, though, she crunched and considered.

Kalen unnerved her, reminded her of the life she'd lost. But out here, so far away from the mansion, she felt an iota of relief from his looming presence. With his speed, she had no idea when he'd simply appear or disappear. What if his thirst trumped his cordial demeanor and he went too far? The scars on her neck were enough proof that he was barely in control.

When he'd bitten her, something made her freeze. She'd not been in control of her own body. What if he did it again? She, like Marianne and the others, was merely a servant to his nature. Caitlin would not have a say if he decided to use her. That was why she was so afraid, she was entirely defenseless against him. At his mercy.

The ride back made her anxiety spike.

Marianne was there to greet them, a contented smile on her face, "How was it, dear?"

"Good, I'm really tired." Her legs had to adjust to the fatigue. In a day or two, if they allowed, she might come out again. "Marianne?"

"Yes, child?" The maternal smile spread across her face.

The sun was still high in the sky, she felt better about asking her during the day. "Why am I here?"

"You've already asked, you know the answer."

"'I know too much', I get that. That's not what I'm asking." Lev took Alba's reigns and brought her into the stables.

"Then what?" She puzzled.

"What purposed do I serve, here? What am I to Kalen? Am I just a toy? A trophy? Is he fattening me up to eat me? I don't get it."

Marianne's brow stitched together, "Are you afraid of him?"

Caitlin scratched her hairline, "Yes... no... I don't know..." she grumbled, "If I had a reason why, it might make sense..."

Uncharacteristically, Marianne stepped forward and embraced her. The hug was a welcome touch after being so long without it, "Believe me, you've not lost favor with the Master. He is fair, despite his habits and moods. If anything was expected of you, you'd be the first to know."

Caitlin hugged back, resting her chin on the woman's soft shoulder, "Promise?"

"I promise," she smiled, planting a kiss on her temple, "Now go on inside, the sandwiches were only meant to sustain. We'll be having lunch at two."

Caitlin nodded, unable to speak lest she cry again.

*

Returning to her rooms was a difficult task, knowing the door would be locked securely behind her. She flitted into the study, searching, in vain, for another entrance.

The wall curtains didn't reveal a secret door this time, but there had to be one, somewhere. Kalen didn't come through her room that night, which meant he'd entered from somewhere else.

With nothing to pass the time after lunch, she continued the search.

But the room revealed nothing, no doors, no windows. The floor seemed solid, no trapdoors. And no man-sized vents either. Unless he could change shape, there was no way he'd come through this room. The thought made her even more nervous.

Relinquishing the search, she sat on the chair with a huff.

A small collection of items sat upon the desk's surface. One in particular caught her eye. It was a black ball, obsidian, or onyx possibly, sitting upon a stand that made it look like a pawn.

Lifting the ball, it was heavier than she expected. The base beneath made a small click, and something rumbled behind her.

With the ball clasped to her breast, she whipped around. The fireplace was receding into the wall, revealing a narrow staircase not unlike the one she'd tried to escape by.

When the rumbling stopped, she peered down the dark entrance.

Down there, she would find answers.

Down there, she might not like what she found.

Taking a deep breath, she descended into the blackness, with nothing but a dark orb to keep her company.

*

The blackness was all-consuming. The steps uneven and slick. Many times, she tried to reason herself out of it, but she had nothing to lose. And the entrance would haunt her until she did.

Perhaps Kalen would be mad at her for poking around, but it was an easy door to find. He must have thought little of her if he left the mechanism out in the open.

Or did he expect it?

Caitlin could never tell if he was testing her or not.

When her eyes finally accustomed themselves to the darkness, she could see gray outlines of the corridor. The floor was well-used, perhaps centuries as evidenced by the worn stone.

Further into the darkness it led, until she had to feel for the wall for guidance. Each pace, so as not to fall, she tapped her foot out to meet the ground, making sure it wasn't a step. God forbid she fall down here in the dark. No one would ever find her.

To her surprise, a light glowed beneath a closed door ahead, illuminating her path. Reaching the door, she heard not a sound. If someone was inside, they weren't breathing.

The door yawned open and the sudden light nearly blinding her, even though it was only a flickering candle. Caitlin shielded her eyes until they adjusted.

At the far wall, on the ground, was a singular coffin.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was this a mausoleum?

Clutching the orb to her breast, she inhaled while feeling for the wall behind her.

Instead, she felt a well-dressed figure.

"You found it." Kalen said without pretense.

She turned to face him, taking a breath. "You expected me to."

He inclined his head, the space between them a yawning gap he could close before she blinked. He did not, "I have not been able to hide my nature from you, great as my efforts have been."

Caitlin almost scoffed but held back. He didn't seem to appreciate the sarcastic, "What is this?"

"It is where I sleep during the day." Kalen moved forward slightly, then held back. "When you are awake, when the sun is high."

"Why?"

"Because daylight burns my kind, we do not enjoy the freedoms that humans do. Such as your ride this afternoon with Lev." He did not seem sad, merely reflective.

"You were watching."

"I saw the wind in your hair, and the joy on your face after you returned. It was good for you, I can hear your blood still rushing."

The mention of blood made her take a step back, "What do you expect from me?"

"You ask if I want recompense?" His eyes bore into hers.

Caitlin could not maintain eye contact. Looking down, she held the orb in both hands limply, "I ask, that if you have complete control, do I have a choice in the matter?"

"No." he spoke honestly, "You wouldn't, if I were so inclined." He reached an arm out slowly, for her sake, and lifted her chin, "But you have nothing to fear from me."

"Others do, though." Caitlin spoke that which had been gnawing at her.

His jaw tightened, "They do."

She shuddered, "Back at the Inn, you said you cared for me. Was that true."

"If it weren't, you wouldn't be here."

"Why? Surely, you've passed through many towns, many cities. Why me? I'm only a small-town girl, I am nobody."

Kalen didn't answer, closing the space between them and taking the orb gently from her, the other hand pressing between her shoulder blades. His simple touch sent electricity down her spine.

"I hate that I can't hate you." she choked. "I've tried so hard."

He smiled a little, "You're sore from the ride. Let's talk upstairs, where you'll be comfortable."

Caitlin nodded mutely and let him lead. He insisted on linking arms, as she could not see in the pitch of the hallway. His arm was firm and warm, she wondered if the heat was stolen from another.

With the orb safely reset in the holder, the fireplace returned to its rightful place. He led her to the couch and sat beside her, giving her space.

Kalen spoke first, "We have a tradition, my kind, when it comes to the next in line. As Prince, I must travel through every portion of the province that I will rule before I can take the throne. King Eamon, my father, has not been well these past seven years-"

"Vampires can get sick?" she blurted out in disbelief, "...sorry."

"A valid question. Normally, no. But even age can affect us over time, and my father has ruled for nearly nine hundred years. The average rule is three at most, usually due to patricide in struggle for the throne.

"Your town was near the end of my pilgrimage. I have to stay a week, know the people, learn their custom before moving on. I will take on a name that is plain, something easy and forgettable."

"Like Dale." She realized.

"Exactly, which keeps me anonymous. Safe."

Pieces of the puzzle connected in her mind, "And I was a threat to that."

"I was a threat to my own exposure, and you were a casualty. When we met for the first time in the grove, I wasn't lost, I had smelled your breath on the wind, and could not resist. You had never done anything wrong." Kalen watched for a reaction.

"All this time I thought it was my fault. You orchestrated everything. Without the kiss, without you drinking my blood, would you still have taken me away?" Caitlin trembled.

"Yes." He glanced away, ashamed.

Twisted relief coursed through her, tainted by rage. She crumpled the summer dress she wore in her fists, "I did nothing wrong." She whispered, "Then what am I here for? It can't just be because you 'care'. If you did, I'd be free to go home."

"May I continue?"

She threw a hand in the air out of frustration, "As you will it, Master."

The glance he shot her stopped the swallow in her throat, "Please, call me Kalen." He paused before continuing, "Part of the reason a Prince must travel his father's lands is to find... their pair. Vampires, despite the lore, can in fact procreate, but only once."

A lump formed in Caitlin's throat.

"We need an heir, a child to pass the legacy, and lineage on to. Creating a vampire is different than fathering one. It must be done with a human woman. Long ago, before modern medicine, the women were left to die after the birth, there was really no way to save them. Turning them was sometimes successful, as with my own mother." He waved to the image above the mantle. "It is a dangerous feat, to bear a vampire child, and takes much longer to metastasize within the womb."

"How long?" She gulped.

"Three years. And the child must be cut from the mother, no women survived a natural birth." He glanced over and saw her distress, "Please do not assume I mean to seed you now."

"But you will." Her throat dried, "That's how I repay you."

Kalen stayed silent.

Caitlin cradled herself, she'd never even been with a man. According to the old women in her town, it was a sad feat of masculinity, disappointing at best.

He stroked her arm, "I don't have a say either."

"Isn't there someone else?" she asked, her voice cracked, "Anyone else? I've never.... never..."

"I know." Kalen glanced at her sadly, "It's a big responsibility, and commitment that you did not ask for, but there is no one else. Not if I am to create an heir." He scooted closer and drew her shaking form to his chest. She didn't pull away, instead she collapsed into him and sobbed.