Valentine kept reading as he rode the staircase down to the first floor and reached for the bench. He went back and forth a few times, then decided that starting from the beginning was a more sensible way to go through his father’s memoire.
Like Valentine and Mirella, his parents had married when Sophia came of age.
My Blessed Bride looks so young. I’m afraid she will be terrified tonight when we retire to the Wedding Chamber…
Valentine skipped several pages, not wanting to read any account of his parents’ first night as a wedded couple.
Sophia’s beauty leaves me breathless. I can’t bear to look at her without wanting to make love to her…
Again, Valentine averted his eyes from the words and leafed forward until a segment looked safer to read.
Carentius confirmed that Sophia is with child and she is ecstatic. I’m terrified. I checked the records twice. No Blessed Bride has ever survived her pregnancy. I don’t want to lose her. We’ve been together for only three months, but she’s become everything to me.
The words were blurred at the end of the sentence as if a tear had stained the ink, and Valentine had to stop reading.
Chapter Ten
Mirella couldn’t stop crying. She had never been the type to succumb to hysterics, but at the sight of dark blood staining the white of her crinoline, tears had started flowing until she sobbed.
Crea had promptly ushered Dragon and Aldo outside the chamber and several voices, including Gabriel’s, could be heard in the foyer, animatedly discussing what to do. Finally, a decision was made, and after a short silence, a knock on the door was followed by Aldo saying, “Blessed Bride, the midwife has been called and will be here shortly. Meanwhile, the ancillae will take care of you.”
A few minutes later, Nida escorted the medicus’s helpers into the chamber. The girl held a change of clothes for Mirella. “I took the liberty to fetch this gown from your closet,” she said, lowering her eyes.
“Thank you, Nida.” Crea relieved the courtesan from her burden.
Absentmindedly, Mirella nodded her thanks, her arms hugging her midsection. After the first moment of panic, she had tried to remain still, afraid that even the slightest movement would start the bleeding anew.
One of the two ancillae approached her. “Blessed Bride, may I ask you to recline so that you are more comfortable?” The curvaceous brunette kneeled before the bed, laying Balenus’s big leather bag on the floor. She opened the bag and pulled out a small, ceramic basin, several gauzes, and sterile gloves.
“Why now?” Mirella whispered. In her mind, the question kept repeating. “After all I went through, why is this happening now?” She had been kidnapped and drugged not so long ago, and she and her baby escaped the ordeal unscathed. “I was feeling just fine.”
“Sometimes, bleeding happens.” The second ancilla placed her hand against Mirella’s. “But let us visit you before jumping to conclusions.” Tall and lithe, the blonde massaged Mirella’s hand with soothing circles.
“My baby is too little—” Mirella said.
“Let them take a look.” Crea touched Mirella’s shoulder.
Mirella let her lady’s maid lower her to the bed, while the ancillae raised her feet to the mattress, gently pushing her knees apart. Their touches were soft and their voices reassuring as they took turns explaining to her what they were doing. Crea held Mirella’s hand and reassuringly smiled at her.
“The bleeding has stopped,” the brunette said, dabbing the inside of Mirella’s thigh with a wet cloth. “You are fine.”
Propping on her elbows, Mirella asked, “Is the baby fine?”
“I believe he is, Blessed Bride. You must rest now though.” The ancilla dropped the cloth into the basin the blonde held for her, then gave Crea a long stare. “It’s important she doesn’t overtax herself.”
Crea patted Mirella’s shoulder. “She won’t.”
Mirella bore Crea’s and the ancillae’s attention without uttering a word. They removed her stained gown, bathed her with warm water in the porcelain tub in the adjacent bathroom, then brought her back to her bed and massaged her stiff limbs with red lavender oils. Following the ancillaes’ directions, Crea used the small kitchen of the safe quarters to brew a concoction of herbs.
“It will soothe you and help you to sleep.” Crea offered Mirella the steaming cup.
“I want to wait for the midwife.” Pushing the cup away, Mirella hoisted herself up on the bed.
“It will take a few hours to fetch her in Adris and fly her back here,” the blonde said.
Mirella’s eyes went to the clockwork on the wall, the long hands extending outside of its frame, hugging the corner as if the clock wanted to escape the chamber. She wondered for a fleeting moment if Valentine had thought to add a bit of humor to the safe quarters. The momentary amusement soon was replaced by bleak despair. She wanted to crawl into her husband’s arms and be reassured by his deep voice that everything was going to be fine.
“Drink some of the herbal tea. It will make you feel better.” Crea sat on the edge of the bed beside Mirella, handing her the cup that Mirella finally accepted.
The soothing effects of the brew worked fast, and Mirella’s eyes grew heavy. Soon, she lowered herself to the mattress and Crea covered her with a soft blanket. Her slumber wasn’t deep, but she was rested enough when a soft knock awoke her.
“The midwife has arrived,” Aldo announced, peeking from the door, but not entering.
“Let her in.” Mirella sat with her back against the headboard.
A majestic woman, wearing a purple tunic and a tall, yellow turban, darkened the threshold. “Child—”
A squeak of delight escaped Mirella’s mouth. “Mama Bee!” She would have left the bed to hug the woman if Crea hadn’t gently but resolutely pushed her down.
“They told me you aren’t feeling well.” Mama Bee sauntered inside the chamber, stopping at the bed’s footboard.
“I’m so scared to lose my baby,” Mirella said.
“Your baby is a werewolf.” Mama Bee walked around the bed. “Your little pup is stronger than any human baby. Like his handsome dad, he is very resilient.” She sat by Mirella, denting the mattress with her considerable weight, then started removing the big rings she wore on every finger and lined them on the nightstand. “Now, I’m sure these lovely ladies have already taken great care of you, but would you mind if I check you just the same?”
Reassured by Mama Bee’s calming voice, Mirella relaxed as the woman asked the ancillae a few questions and then proceeded to visit her.
“Everything’s fine. Your baby is safely nested in your womb,” Mama Bee said, lowering Mirella’s skirt.
“But all that blood—?” Mirella propped herself up, and Crea slid two pillows behind her back.
“Common enough in pregnancies and nothing to worry about when it stops by itself like it did in your case.” Mama Bee removed her sterile gloves and patted Mirella’s arm.
“My baby is really fine then.” Trying to stop the tears, Mirella brought her hand to her face, but she ended up sobbing instead.
“There, there, my child—” Mama Bee engulfed Mirella in her arms, pressing her against her ample bosom. “Don’t cry. Expecting mothers should never cry.”
“I didn’t mean to cry—” Inhaling the woman’s sweet scent, Mirella was able to control her emotions and let out one final ragged breath.
“I know you are strong, my child.” Mama Bee leaned away to smile at her. “Only a strong woman can be a mother to a werewolf.” She pulled Mirella closer again, hugging her tight.
“Thank you,” Mirella whispered, enjoying the woman’s reassuring softness for a moment longer before freeing herself from the embrace. “I wish for you to stay at the manor.”
“Of course, I’ll stay.” Mama Bee looked over her shoulder at the door behind. “Even if I wanted to leave, which I don’t in the slightest, I couldn’t.” She winked. “Your knights would give me a hard time.”
“No, of course not. Those two know better than to be anything but polite to the best cook in Adris,” Mama Bee said, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow.
“I’m so glad that you are also a midwife though. I had all but forgotten about it.” The first time Mirella had met Mama Bee was at her restaurant, where Valentine took her to eat his favorite dish of roasted lamouris, and Mama Bee had regaled them with a wedding night sweet soup. Vivid memories of that lunch and what happened soon afterward came back to Mirella, and it took all her willpower not to blush.
“I am a woman of many talents.” Mama Bee laughed, the tall turban swaying wildly. “Now, have you eaten properly?” She looked around, casting an accusatory glance at both the ancillae and at Crea, whose face took a dark shade of pink.
“I have the best lady’s maid, and she is very attentive to my needs,” Mirella said before Crea would say something.
“But did you have any decent roasted lamouris recently?” Mama Bee asked, and it was clear she had doffed the midwife hat and donned the cook one.
Mirella smiled. “We have great chefs, but nobody can make roasted lamouris like you do, Mama Bee.”
“Well, that can be remedied.” Mama Bee pushed herself up with some effort. “The driver dared complain, but I brought all the ingredients I need to make a good roast.” She flattened her tunic with long, deliberate strokes of her hands, then picked up the rings from the nightstand and put them on with slow movements. “I’ll have a decent dinner prepared for you in no time, my child. Nothing better than a good meal to restore one’s spirit.” And with that last repartee, the woman exited the chamber and reentered the foyer.
Before Mama Bee closed the door behind her, Mirella saw several drawn faces peeking inside her chamber. Gabriel tentatively smiled at her, while Aldo’s stony expression softened at once, and Dragon stopped his pacing to wave in her direction. Then Mama Bee’s silhouette obscured the threshold and a moment later, her voice raised over the others’ as she instructed one by one what everyone should be doing instead of gawking at her like a bunch of headless boffolous—the wild chickens populating the Great Plains known for their stupidity. Although, when she addressed Dragon, her tone was noticeably sweeter.
****
Under Mama Bee’s no-nonsense care, Mirella calmed down, and counting her blessings that her baby was safe, resigned to a temporary life in confinement.
But after four nights and three days cooped up in the safe quarters, Mirella had enough of being fussed over by Crea and the ancillae. Although comfortable and elegantly furnished, the hidden apartment wasn’t equipped with a communication mirror, and she hadn’t talked to Valentine since the last time when they had been abruptly interrupted. Meanwhile, a solar storm had cut off communication between Lupine and Sidera Prime, and no one else had news of him, which only filled Mirella’s mind with worry.
To further add to her aggravation, built inside the harem, her new quarters were nothing more than a metal box, windowless and small, and she longed for a stroll outside in the hanging gardens. Whenever possible, Gabriel and Dragon visited her, and their presence, too, after a while, started to grate on her nerves. If it weren’t for Mama Bee’s calming effect on Mirella, she would have snapped at everyone for no reason at all.
Presently, in a rare moment when it was just herself and Crea, Mirella was pacing her bedroom, Nida’s notebook in hand, trying to read the girl’s neat handwriting but unable to do so because her mind was elsewhere. A knock on the door startled both her and her lady’s maid, who jumped up from the sofa and went to answer.
“Blessed Bride—” Martali said from the door, looking first at Mirella, then at Crea, in his eyes the barest acknowledgment for the girl before he focused back on Mirella. “Is there something amiss?”
Mirella relaxed the frown on her face and smiled. “Everything’s fine. Is there any news regarding Balenus?”
Martali didn’t seem convinced, but slightly bowed as if accepting her reassurance. “The Revolution contacted us with instructions. We’ll make the delivery tonight.”
“Finally. Where?”
“Inside the Hidden Market, at nine o’ clock—”
Mirella shivered. The last time she had visited the more secretive section of the Public Market in Adris, she was almost kidnapped.
“That’s a blessing, since by the rendezvous time the place should be deserted,” Martali continued.
“Who’s going?” she asked.
“Dragon and Gabriel have insisted on accompanying me, but they will remain out of sight.”
Nodding, Mirella said, “Good. I feel better knowing they are with you. I hope you can retrieve Balenus safe and sound.”
“We’ll try our absolute best.” The head guard brought his right fist to his heart.
“I have no doubt.”
“Also, my elite squad is stationed outside. I don’t mean to worry you. It’s just for my peace of mind while we are all out—”
“I appreciate your concern, and I know I’ll be more than safe here,” Mirella said, then asked, “Have you heard from my husband?”
“Not yet, but I hope to talk to him soon. The worst of the solar storm is behind.” Martali stepped back. “I must go. If there is anything you need, I’ll be in Master Lobo’s studio for the next hour, trying to get in contact with him.”
“We’ll be fine, thank you.”
“I’ll report when we are back from Adris.” Martali bowed one last time, then turned, but before exiting, his gaze swept over Crea, who lowered her eyes.
Mirella waited for the head guard to leave before turning to Crea. “So, is there anything you wish to talk about?”
Her lady’s maid’s face colored a bright crimson, but she shook her head. “No, why?”
“Are you sweet on Martali?”
“No!”
“Is it Gabriel then?” Mirella had been trying to decipher Crea’s embarrassed reactions to the two men for days and still hadn’t come up with an answer.
“Mirella!” Crea brought both hands to her mouth. “He is a vampire lord!”
“It’s Martali then.” Mirella gently took Crea by her elbow and led her to the settee by the fireplace. “Although, I think Gabriel has noticed you, you know?”
“How can you tease me so?” Crea looked at her lap, her shoulders slumped.
“I would never do such a thing. Gabriel knows your name, and I’ve caught him looking at you.”
“That means nothing. The vampire lord is nice to everyone.”
“That’s true, but he doesn’t look at every girl with the same sweet eyes.”
“It doesn’t matter. I would never let myself fall for a lord.”
“But you would fall for the head guard, would you?”
“How could I?” Crea’s hands played with her gown, bunching the black fabric on her lap. “I worked in a pleasure den—”
Mirella was about to refute Crea’s line of reasoning, but three soft knocks on the door interrupted her. Gabriel announced himself a moment later in that distinct way of his, with every word crisply enunciated. Instead, Dragon would knock only once, sharp, followed by his formal request for an audience. During her sojourn in the safe quarters, Mirella had come to recognize her visitors by the way they introduced themselves. She needed to get out of those cramped quarters and soon.
“I met Martali on my way here and he told me you have been briefed already,” Gabriel said after the customary pleasantries and the expected look at Crea, whose eyes never left her lap.
“Do you think you’ll be able to bring Balenus back home tonight?” Mirella asked.
“That’s part of the plan—” Gabriel hesitated.
“Out with it.”
“Once the exchange is done, and Balenus is safely in Martali’s care, Dragon and I will follow the kidnappers.”
Mirella had expected as much, but she couldn’
t help but say, “Don’t put yourself in harm’s way.”
“We’ll try our best not to.” Gabriel smiled. “Until we are back, I must ask you to remain here. I know you must be going crazy by now—”
Tilting her head, Mirella raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish his sentence.
“But it will make me feel better knowing that you are safe. Please?” He brought his united hands to his chest in a supplicant pose. “I promise it will be over soon.”
“Can I at least have access to the communication mirror inside the harem?” she asked. “For when Sidera Prime is out of the dark zone, and I can finally see Valentine.”
Gabriel seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll arrange with Martali some extra protection for you.”
“Thank you.” Mirella smiled, feeling lighter all of a sudden.
“I wish one day to have what you and Valentine have,” Gabriel said, taking her by surprise. “Love as encompassing and beautiful as the one you two share is rare.” With a hand on his heart, he bowed, then said his farewell to Mirella and Crea, and left.
For a moment, Mirella was left speechless, then Crea sighed, and the spell was broken.
“Who knew—” the lady’s maid whispered.
“Who knew what?” Mirella asked, facing the girl.
“That even a vampire lord could wish for the same thing someone like me does,” Crea explained.
“Beneath the façade, we are all the same.” Mirella sighed. “We all long to love and be loved in return.”
Chapter Eleven
After a long day spent reading through both Marcellus’s private collection and the books from the Brotherhood Library, Valentine retired to his quarters for a break. He had reached complete exhaustion, yet again, and it would be of no use to force his eyes to stare at wavering pages any longer.
After a brief visit to the shower stall where he was lathered in antiseptic wash, scrubbed, and rinsed by jets of foam and lukewarm mist, he gulped down the gooey sustenance that was his dinner, and, still naked, relaxed on the bench facing the communication mirror in his bedroom.
The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3) Page 7