Music Recommendation: Love Theme- Guy Farley
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The emotions of fear that had been hovering around Eve before seeping into her, that she had been trying to hold back until this moment broke in Vincent’s arms. Tears continued to fall from her eyes, most of which fell on Vincent’s shirt as she continued to cry.
Since Eve had been captured and thrown into the cell, it had left her terrified and helplessness had caught her. She couldn’t stop crying, and soon sobs broke through her lips. She clutched onto the vampire’s shirt, wetting it with her tears and Vincent didn’t make any attempt to push her.
“Shh. It’s all over,” Vincent comforted her.
His hand that he had earlier used to bring her to him, to hide her tears from his coachman or another person, hadn’t moved away from Eve’s head. Her golden blonde hair which was usually tied was let down, and he gently stroked her head with his hand.
Vincent had always seen the governess put a strong front, meeting his eyes and words almost as if she was no less than him, even though he was the predator and she was his prey. He could tell that she was shaken.
“There there. Nobody’s going to hurt you now,” Vincent’s words were like a warm blanket to Eve’s ears. “You have been very brave, Ms. Barlow and you survived.” It was because only she could think of escaping from the dungeon, he thought to himself.
If Eve wasn’t overwhelmed with her emotions, she would have noticed the gentleness Vincent’s words carried, as if he was talking to a child. Her lips trembled, and her body experienced little tremors as she sobbed.
Vincent’s coachman, Mr. Briggs closed the carriage door without interrupting the two and went to sit on the driver’s seat before riding the carriage away from Raven town.
Once Eve spilt most of her emotions, her mind calmed down and the sobs quietened.
Her mind had been so wrapped around the events that had taken place in the dungeon that she hadn’t noted how she had buried herself in her employer’s arms. Once she started to come to her senses, she blinked before pulling away from him and trying to slip her hand in her dress pocket to pull out her handkerchief, but she realised her dress was lying cold in the corner of one of the dungeon’s cells.
“Take this,” Vincent offered his handkerchief to her.
Eve slightly bowed before using it without making too much noise.
Vincent watched the woman dab her eyes and nose, while she avoided his gaze. Her face had flushed, and the rim of her eyes had turned red. Her lips were parted to be able to breathe. She looked fragile, similar to a glass doll that could easily break and crumble if one were to touch her now.
“Drink some more water,” his words turned firmer as he continued watching her, and Eve followed his order without any question.
Eve sensed Vincent’s gaze, and her movements turned skittish under his eyes. Some of the water spilt on her chin before sliding down her throat. Closing the lid of the water batter, she placed it at the side. She then said,
“Thank you for what you did back there…” Eve didn’t meet his eyes. The state in which he had seen her in… it was the lowest she had been or let anyone see, and Vincent had not only seen her, but had helped her. “I will forever be grateful for what you have done, Master Vincent,” her voice was lower than usual, and Vincent detected the vulnerability in it.
Eve then picked up all the pearls that had fallen on inside the carriage, and once she was done, Vincent stretched his hands in front of her, “Let me keep them.” She carefully handed the pearls to him, seeing him slip them into his trouser pocket.
“Did you do something you were not supposed to do, Ms. Barlow?” She heard him question her.
Eve’s eyebrows slightly furrowed before she raised her gaze and met his dark red eyes that stared right back at her. She shook her head, “No.”
“Then why are you unable to look at me? Or is it that I have scared you with what you saw me do back there in the dungeon,” Vincent’s question was direct to her. He sat comfortably, crossing his legs, he said, “There’s no need for you to look down when you haven’t committed any error. I don’t think it has anything to do with me finding you in your inner dress, after all I have already seen more than that,” he tilted his head.
Eve didn’t know if this was his unconventional way of cheering her up. She pursed her lips before saying,
“Who am I to judge your actions, Master Vincent. Especially after you saved me. Even though I wanted to escape and tried… somewhere I realised that it was impossible. I didn’t know if I was going to rot in the dungeon, without anyone knowing where I went.”
Halfway through her escape, Eve had started to lose all hope, and when the head guard caught her, she had believed that was her end.
“I thought no one would come for me…” Eve whispered those words, and tears started to form in her eyes again. She took a deep breath before asking, “Did you come to the dungeon for some work?”
Vincent stared at her. He then nodded, “Yes,” without admitting the fact that he had come to the dungeon for her, after discovering that she was the one who was blamed for Fowler’s case. He knew there were consequences for his actions, but at that time he was pissed. “You are lucky I came by the dungeon for a case. Did you see who killed the man?”
Eve shook her head, “When I arrived at the place, the man’s heart was pulled out and he was already dead.” She said, “Are we going to Darthmore?”
“Yes,” Vincent nodded, “Your wounds need to be treated. And I need to report what happened to the inner circle’s members and get you out of the little mess you swam into.”
“I am sorry,” Eve apologised to him. The number of guards he had killed was more than she could count in her hands.
“Don’t fret, I will deal with it,” replied Vincent before adding, “You must have not slept the night. Get some sleep before we reach Darthmore.”
Eve nodded, pulling his coat closer to her before letting her head lean against the carriage’s wall. With exhaustion that had taken over her body, and knowing her life was not in danger and she had Vincent sitting next to her, she quickly fell asleep. But over the time of the ride, her head moved from the side next to the window to rest against Vincent’s shoulder.
Vincent sighed and muttered, “What a troublesome little thing. Always getting into trouble.”
His hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out one of the pearls and bringing it in front of his eyes. As expected, Genevieve Barlow was a high-quality mermaid. Not only was her blood exquisite to taste, but the pearls that her tears created were beautiful.
It was said that, the more a mermaid cried in pain and anguish, the more beautiful the pearls were.
Vincent’s curiosity about mermaids had stirred when he was a young boy, when he had visited the fair in Crowbury and seen a small girl’s tear turn into a pearl. The next day he had gone to the town, looking for the girl, and the day after it and then the entire week, but he hadn’t been able to find her.
After an hour, the carriage reached Darthmore, which made its way through the gates. Eve woke up in time to pull away from Vincent’s shoulder that she had turned into a pillow and had drooled on him. She quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Vincent looked at her with a serious expression, “It looks like soon you are going to be in debt, Ms. Barlow.”
“I didn’t mean to do that,” when Eve went to deepen her bow, but only to wince in pain.
He clicked his tongue, “What are you doing, damaging my body.”
“What?” Eve whispered in slight shock.
“The blood running inside your body is mine, isn’t it?” Vincent questioned the obvious, and sent a small glare her way, “You are already in pain, there’s no need to move unnecessarily.”