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“Perfect. It’s unequivocally perfect!” Moira exclaimed as she stared at herself in the mirror.
“Does this mean that everything is to your liking, Mistress?” Her tailor questioned.
“Yes. It’s mesmerizing. And, the shade... It’s the darkest I have ever seen. How were you—it’s as if its enchanted!” Moira said, captivated by her black gown. She couldn’t help but marvel at her tailor’s work.
The dress could be considered dramatic by some, yet, at the same time, it was a romantic looking ball gown. Crafted with yards of corded lace, it was made with hand-applied beads and sequins across the bodice. The skirt's delicate layers of black tulle seem to almost cascade from its weightless volume. It was truly a stunning piece of art.
“I’m afraid I cannot reveal my secrets.” The tailor confessed, pleased with Moira’s obvious satisfaction with the garment. The tailor had to think outside the box to create such a dark shade for the dress. He would never admit to it, but to reach the effect that he was looking for, he had to attach a myriad of hidden, minuscule gems throughout the dress. It was an illusion, but no one would be the wiser. The enchantment should uphold long after the ceremony had ended, and the dress stored forever away from sight.
As for the reason why the darkest shade was so prized by many brides? Many theories exist. Of course, witches and sorcerers thought it was to counter the color white, which was the current popular choice for humans. This, even though, black had been part of the vampiric custom long before white really became a fashion for humans. On the other hand, some Vampires believed this custom debuted to pay respect to newly transformed humans who were now embarking on a new life. Black was the color of choice to mourn the death of their former selves. And, finally, Moira, like many others, couldn’t care less how the tradition began. She loved the shade, and it looked a hell of a lot better than ivory on her pale skin.
“Mistress Moira?”
One of her servants, who’s main task was to update her whenever she had news of Benedict, interrupted Moira’s trance. Immediately, Moira’s body stiffened. Her father ensured her that Benedict would be deeply preoccupied and would not have the time to search for his mate. She knew that Daddy was going to bury Benedict in a heap of work, until he had no other choice but to marry her. Somehow, when reminded of this, it put a serious damp into things. It made her realize that she was a petty and horrible vampire. She knew if Benedict married her against his will, then whatever chance they had at love would be forever destroyed. Time can’t heal all wounds.
“Yes, Lena, what is it?”
“I have news. Ariana confirmed that Benedict left his office about 90 minutes ago. He should be readying himself for the wedding.”
Moira’s heart soared. Could Benedict really be on his way to the ceremony? If he were, then, clearly, this was a sign that Benedict had finally given up on Ally. Good. He came to his senses, after all, Moira mused. He made the right decision and chose to join her family. Moira smiled to herself but was still a bit weary. She really wanted to believe that there was a fairytale ending for her. But, she couldn’t help but feel skeptical. Did Benedict change his mind? Did he love her? Or, is he marrying her as to not to lose his possessions? Moira shrugged mentally. Either way, she would be married to Benedict. With time, she knew she could make him fall in love with her all-over again.
“Thank you, Lena.” Moira said as she watched her servant quietly exit the room.
The remaining servants continued to finalize Moira’s look, as they fetched for more accessories. She sighed loudly, throwing her head back. Ugh, she was so relieved. She faced many bumps along the road, and now the path was finally clear and coming to an end. Her father would be so proud of her. She can now show him that she succeeded where she should have failed. Her father, who never missed an opportunity to call her a spoiled brat, would now see how Moira successfully coerced Benedict into marrying her, propelling their household to unimaginable heights.
“Mistress, would you like to see the choice of veils?”
Moira shook her head. “No. Why should I unnecessarily conceal any part of myself on this day? I want everyone to see me in all my glory. Bring me my jewels.”
“As you wish, mistress.”
The servant backed away from Moira and rushed over to the other side of the room to grab an unusually beautiful wooden box. She then swiftly returned to her mistress and opened the lid to reveal a twelve-compartment display case. Each compartment held an assortment of exquisite rings, priceless brooches, and loose gemstones. Moira scanned the contents and decided to wear one of her household’s ancient brooches, depicting her household insignia, and paired it with an extravagantly encrusted black diamond bracelet.
“Have these polished.” She ordered.
“Mistress, the ceremony will begin in 60 minutes.” Said another servant who was keenly keeping track of the time.
“Is Benedict here?”
“I have not heard of his arrival, but there is plenty of time. No need to worry.”
Moira nodded, and return her gaze to the mirror. The ceremony would start at 11:30 PM. Thirty minutes before midnight. Why did it have to be so last minute? She shook her head. Well, it was too late. If Benedict stood her up, he would lose all of his possessions. The only way that he could change his fate was by marrying Ally. However, Moira saw to this by abducting Ally and tucking her far away at an isolated area. She forced Benedict’s hand, but what else was left for her to do? Lose him?
Moira never wanted to put Benedict in such a position. How she wished he had chosen her from the very first day they met. Yet, he was a romantic and a fool. When he was young, he became intrigued, then obsessed, with the idea of finding his human counterpart. He was determined to find his true “love” and ignored the perfectly suitable vampire standing right in front of him! No, he only had himself to blame. They should already be wedded. Why had he had to, once again, request to have their wedding postponed?
You reap what you sow.
But, in the end, he came to his senses. At the eleventh hour? Yes, literally, but soon all this ugliness will finally be put behind them. She hoped that they would not delay in starting a family. She hoped a new addition would help heal the wounds. Plus, Moira knew they would have a gorgeous baby!
●●●●
A soft knock was heard, and the door opened. Moira glanced up and saw her mother staring happily at her. Although they always had a rocky relationship, Moira believed her mother wanted to put aside their differences for today. She really felt that her mother was rooting for her for once.
The matriarch had been instrumental in orchestrating the event. That could not be denied, what, with the long list of wishes coming from Moira. Janelle Verdon made it her mission to ensure everything her daughter wanted was in place. She was aware that many important and affluent vampires would be in attendance. They would witness the union of two powerful households. This was history being written in the realm. It was exciting! Thrilling! In the eyes of practically everyone, Janelle took to her role as Mother of the Bride... well, until a few days ago.
Janelle walked over towards her daughter’s side and smiled warmly, resting her hand on her arm. Both women stared at each other’s reflection, quietly appreciating this moment.
“Is everything to your liking?” Janelle asked as she eyed her daughter’s dress.
Moira nodded.
“This dress, mother... I mean, look at it!” Moira exclaimed.
“The tailor has done an astounding job.” Janelle stated.
Moira nodded once again, in agreement. “Have you heard any news from Benedict?”
Janelle hesitated, but only for a mere moment. She quickly regained her composure, knowing full well that her daughter excelled at reading people’s emotions. Did Moira notice her small flinch? Did she see the slight widening of her eyes?
“No.” Janelle said finally. “But, last I heard he was on his way.”
Moira beamed. “Excellent.”
“Do you want me to try and get a hold of him?”
“No, that won’t be necessary, mama.”
Mama? Janelle had not heard that endearment in decades. Her daughter, who stood before her as this beautiful mature vampire, suddenly reverted to the young tot she remembered. The cutest vampling with platinum-blond pigtails, and a bloody lollipop sticking out of her mouth.
Janelle cherished the image. How she missed those days! Simpler times filled with hugs, kisses, and playtime. The memory melted her heart, and Janelle truly wished she had intervened between her daughter and husband when she had the occasion. Perhaps, their relationship would not have been so difficult. They could be closer, stronger. For all one knows, Vincent, probably wouldn’t have had such a negative influence over their daughter, and maybe, instead of marrying Benedict against his will, she would be wedded to someone who truly loved her the way she needed to be loved. The way she deserved to be loved.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite. Janelle betrayed her daughter not once, but twice in one night. Her first betrayal occurred when she anonymously called Gabriel Harlan under the guise of one of her servants. She exposed Moira and provided Gabe with the necessary instructions to find Ally. Then, she continued her disloyal act by freeing Benedict from Vincent’s office. But, did she stop there? Oh, no! She then, unmercifully, killed a goon employed by her household and went out of her way to personally drive Benedict to Helena’s Bog, providing him with banishing runes, no less. Bloody hell, she even wished him luck on saving his mate.
As she stared at her grateful, smiling daughter, guilty thoughts came crashing down on her. She had this uncontrollable need to apologize, to confess her sins. Yet, she forcibly brushed this feeling aside. She reminded herself what her daughter was capable of. Yes, at this moment, she looked angelical, but this was an illusion. Janelle had not forgotten the times she caught Moira tormenting Gabriel Harlan for sport. Or the numerous times she chastised Moira for judging others negatively, simply because they weren’t pureblooded. Alas, Vincent had succeeded in poisoning her mind. She was now the carbon-copy of that despicable man.
“Where in blood’s name is my necklace?!” Moira barked at her assistant, losing patience. Did nobody care how important this day was to her?
“Right over here, Mistress!” The assistant sputtered, panicked as she had clearly forgotten about the jewel. She had been busy sprucing up Moira’s bouquet and lost herself in her work. She rushed towards it, grabbed the boxed it was displayed in, and returned to her mistress. “How does it please you, mistress?”
“Well, what do you think?” She asked, ignoring the servant and turning her attention towards her mother. “It’s quite modest. But, I don’t know.”
“Something old, something dead; Something borrowed, something red.”
Moira gasped. “You—Yes, you! Bring me le collier. And, make it quick this time!” Moira ordered, as her mother gave a quick clap, excited for what’s to come.
The servant dashed out of the room and returned with a jaw-dropping, pear-shaped, ruby pendant. Adorned with a halo of diamonds, it dazzled with each step the servant took. She slid the necklace around her mistress’s neck and backed away quietly. The jewel felt heavy, and natural on Moira. It also felt eerily reassuring. Maybe this was the good luck charm she had been hoping for.
“You look so beautiful, Moira.” Janelle whispered from behind.
“I do clean up nicely.” She retorted happily, marveling at herself. She twisted her torso, to and fro, getting a good glimpse of herself in the mirror. This was her wedding day! She would treasure these memories forever.
Dun-dun-dun-dun
“Wha-? Did you feel that?” Janelle asked her daughter.
“Yes. Did the room shake? What was that sound?” She questioned, trying to steady herself.
Alarmed, they both looked around the room and realized that their servants were just as concerned. So, they weren’t imagining things?
“Was it an earthquake? I heard—Wait—the lights! Why are they flickering?” Janelle stared at the chandelier hanging above them, confused.
Moira was worried. She feared Gabriel Harlan was behind this. But how? Did he escape? Those incompetent goons! This time, when she was done with that mutt, it would be impossible for him to interfere with her again.
As she was about to step down and join her mother, the room crackled with electricity, and before uttering another word, two monstrous goons landed on her.
Trashing around to regain their balance, the goons tore at anything and everything that lied in their path. The dress was into pieces. Moira’s makeup and hair were ruined. She screamed. Her mother screamed. Most of the servants fled the room. Moira’s assistant fainted.
●●●●
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!? GET THE HELL OFF OF ME!!”
“Forgive us, Mistress! Forgive us!” Oot and Zud sputtered as they tried desperately to find their footing. They had no idea what had happened to them and were confused about their whereabouts. Where were they? What was Mistress Moira doing here? Zud wanted to provide an explanation, but one look at her and his mouth snapped shut. Both did not like what they saw. They never saw their Mistress so enraged. They were definitely walking on eggshells now.
Looking about the room, Zud noticed strips of ripped fabric littering the floor. He gulped. He had a feeling the destruction represented something of great importance. But what? Zud nervously looked at Oot. Was that a clump of platinum hair in his hand? He slapped it out of his friend’s hand and watched it drift to the ground.
Moira approached the goons. She raised her right arm and, without hesitation, struck both monstrosities across the face.
“YOU IDIOTS! Look, what you’ve done!” She cried, pointing at her dress. “It’s destroyed! The wedding is moments away! I should have you KILLED!”
The goons fell to their knees.
“We beg for your forgiveness! Please, Mistress! We didn’t mean for this to happen! We have the utmost respect for your household! We—"
“What the fuck are you two doing HERE?” Moira sneered. “What happened to the prisoners?”
“We don’t know! I mean, one minute we were minding our business and supervising the humans and vampires—"
“Half-bred and morph.” Moira corrected.
“Right. Well, after you left another vampire showed up!”.
“Yes!” Oot added. “Face match picture. Zud let escape. Me no like!”
Zud rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the moment we knew who we were dealing with, he banished us.”
Moira’s face whitened. “Are you saying Benedict Voss showed up at the cabin? And banished you here? So, right now, at this very moment, he’s with her?”
She turned away when the goons nodded, answering her question. She was confused. How did Benedict escape from her father? And, who told him where to find her? This was not supposed to happen! She stared at her reflection in the mirror, fuming. How could he banish two goons? Any artifact that was in his possession should have been confiscated! How could everything go so wrong?
And now, he was reunited with her.
Reunited with that human.
He was not coming. He would never come for her now.
He was with her...
“Darling?”
Moira let out a piercing scream as she smashed the mirror in front of her.
“Leave me alone, mother!” She screamed. She faced the goons, pointing her fingers at them. “You two idiots are coming with me!”
“Where are you going?” Janelle inquired.
“What, mother? You think I’m just going to lay my head on your shoulder and bawl my eyes out? I’m going to fix this!”
“How? It’s over. It’s time to move on!”
“Don’t say that!!”
“He’s in love with her.”
“SHUT UP!! SHUT. UP. That’s it! I’m going to find Daddy! He always knows what to do and sides with ME!” She cried, as she stormed out of the room with the two goons in close pursuit.
“Madam?”
“Hmm, yes?”
“What shall we do with all of this?” One of the servants asked, pointing at the mess.
“Pack it up. Party’s over.” Janelle responded, exiting the room.
