Chapter Twenty-Seven

Broken Sound

Charlotte’s eyes fluttered open the next morning. She stretched under the fine bedclothes and reached for the silver whistle still strung around her neck. She dreamt of it last night—of the hands holding it—as she sat up in the bed.

Across the room, draped over a garnet-colored armchair, was a neatly pressed dress. It was a sort of emerald green color, and cut to fit her body exactly. Ecstatic, she leapt from the bed and grabbed it in her hands, twirling around with it in front of her.

She turned to admire it in the polished antique mirror hanging from the wall. She shrieked when she heard the door behind her creak open, and she struggled to cover herself with the dress.

“Oopsie!” Meredith threw her fingers over her eyes. “Didn’t mean to startle ya, darlin’. Just wanted to make sure the dress fit right.”

Charlotte beamed down at the dress in front of her. “I love it! Thank you! I haven’t had the chance to try it on yet.”

“Well, get to it! And when you’re ready, Aiden is waiting downstairs for you in the garden for breakfast,” she chirped. “Come on, Molly.”

That’s when Charlotte noticed the small, blonde girl by Meredith’s skirt. She peered around the door at her in awe, her long hair scraping across the floor.

“You look real pretty, Charlotte,” the little Elf said.

“Thank you.” Charlotte squinted at her. She looked so familiar.

“Well, let’s get goin’, Molly. We must leave Charlotte to get ready.” Meredith anxiously pulled Molly away from the door, but the girl didn’t move.

“Do you love my brother?” Her eyes seemed to bore into Charlotte’s soul.

Charlotte stared at her a few moments longer. “Yes,” she said simply.

“Aiden will treat you much better than Valek.” Immediately, Meredith’s hand flew over her daughter’s mouth.

“Who?” Charlotte asked.

Meredith chuckled. “Molly is so silly. Her imagination has become so wild these days, with all of these imaginary friends and make-believe stories.” She looked down at her daughter. “Hush, dear, and don’t bore Miss Charlotte with your little games.” She laughed again, and with a warm smile, closed the door.

Charlotte turned and yanked the dress down over her head and, smiling again, examined herself in the mirror. She pulled open the drawer to the bedside table and ran the gold comb through her smooth curls before running out the door to meet her love in the garden.

Just as Meredith said, Aiden was waiting out there, in the center of the East garden, the morning sun glinting off his golden hair, like autumn leaves. Charlotte ran to him, and he swept her into his arms, spinning her around in the heat of the day. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her mouth.

After breakfast, the two of them walked again through the gardens, made summer green by magic, though frost had already bitten outside the palace gates.

She frowned at Aiden when they sat next to each other on one of the emerald-cut benches. He held her hand in his, and she noticed how warm and ivory they were. These weren’t the hands from her memory. She looked at his face then, warm as the sun above them. “Aiden, why aren't you allowed to be with me after dark?”

He looked at her then. “What do you mean?”

She winced at the sight of their hands together. “Nothing, I guess. I just seem to remember that you used to spend every night with me. I used to feel you there next to me when I slept. Am I wrong?” She looked at him.

He licked at his lower lip. “Lottie, we always kiss goodnight at sunset, but once we are married…” he nervously explained. His voice fluctuated as he spoke—his eyes shifting, not once resting on her. She didn’t trust this.

“What did you call me?” She grimaced at him.

“Charlotte,” he said, and cleared his throat.

Confused, she turned away and stared at the dizzying pictures that danced around in her head. Aiden put his hand under her chin, turned her face back toward him, and kissed her forehead.

“I love you, Charlotte.”

They heard footsteps approaching, and Aiden smiled at who it was. “I’d like you to meet someone.” He stood in the presence of the man who approached in a sharp, navy suit, his snowy beard groomed down to the middle of his chest.

Charlotte got to her feet as well, folding her hands in front of her, and smiled. She bowed her head once to him.

“Charlotte, this is Lord Vladislov.”

Charlotte bowed her head again and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure!”

Aiden harshly smacked her hand away, his face turning bright red as Vladislov appraised him cautiously. “Pardon, my Lord. Charlotte is only mortal, she does not yet know our etiquette.”

“Well, it seems as though you are running out of training time before the wedding, son.” He scanned her from head to toe. “Not a long time to turn a bitch into a pure-bred.” He smoothed the bottom of his beard.

Tears welled slightly behind Charlotte’s eyes as she covered the red mark Aiden left with her other hand.

“I assure you, she will be ready.” He placed a hand on the small of Charlotte’s back.

“Good, then. I give the two of you my blessing, and trust you will continue to reign over this empire successfully as I have,” Vladislov concluded.

“You will not be disappointed,” said Aiden happily. “Thank you.”

“Would the two of you care to accompany me to this morning’s execution?” Vladislov extended a hand toward the palace.

“It would be an honor,” Aiden responded, and held his arm out so Charlotte apprehensively linked with his. The three of them walked to the east tower.

***

Charlotte sat between Aiden and Meredith in the highest box in the small stadium at the center of the palace. She clung to his arm as tears rolled down her cheeks. She blinked them away quickly when Meredith glanced at her. Her fingers grappled in the material of his sleeve as she watched the group of Vampires being dragged to the center of the platform. Aiden’s father, Danek, was standing, his hand held to the sky, blocking the sun with an immense storm cloud.

The group hissed and pulled at the heavy chains that kept their wrists together. Their grayish skin was muddy and singed in some areas, faces cracked, despite their beauty. Charlotte’s eyes grew wide when one of them looked up at her. She tugged on Aiden’s sleeve, and he turned to look at her.

“Why do they have to die, Aiden?” she whispered.

Vladislov’s face contorted when he heard what she said.

“Because,” Aiden whispered back, “they are murderers and sinners. Followers of the dark. They are dying for the crimes they’ve committed. Be quiet and do not ask anymore questions.”

Charlotte looked to the platform, the one Vampire still staring at her sadly. The muscles in her chest wrenched as more tears swelled. She stood up. Everyone who was sitting around them looked at her.

Vladislov sighed and began rubbing the bridge of his nose before shooting a slanted look at his heir.

Aiden fiercely grabbed Charlotte’s arm. “Charlotte! What are you doing? Sit down!”

“I don’t think it’s right, Aiden,” she continued, still watching the Vampire. “I don’t want to see this.”

Everyone around them began whispering and staring at them.

Aiden stood then, smacking Charlotte across her face with all of his strength. A few Elves around them gasped as she bent over, her tiny, white hand covering the burning, red mark. Aiden glanced around and adjusted his coat. He waved a diplomatic hand at the crowd. “You will obey me, Charlotte. Sit down,” he seethed, before sitting down.

Tears fell from her as she quietly sat as well, her eyes still fixed on the Vampire staring at her from the center of the platform. Creatures of the darkness, she thought. Her other hand started toying with the whistle around her neck.

At once, Danek shifted his hand, causing the large storm cloud that blocked the sun to dissipate. The Vampires screeched something horrible as their bodies combusted into putrid black and violet flames. Pillars of smoke descended to the sky as Charlotte shook, tears continuing to spill from her eyes, as most of the crowd watched her.

At the end of the morning’s execution, Aiden angrily pulled Charlotte along the dark corridors of the palace, back to her quarters for the rest of the day. “Charlotte,” he said, as she struggled to keep up with him. “You will not embarrass me again, do you understand?”

“You’re hurting me!” she cried, trying to get free.

He stopped walking and pinned her against a stony wall, his face almost touching hers. “I will be ruler in a day. You will not ruin this for me. I chose you, so you will obey me.”

She glared angrily back at him. “You can rule without me because I do not love you.”

This enraged him. He struck her again and tore her from the wall, pulling her once again toward her bedchamber. “You will not see me again until our wedding, Charlotte.”

Just as they were about to round a corner, Charlotte’s eyes happened upon a small platoon of guards pushing crude, metal gurneys covered over with black tarps. She squinted to get a better look. A single, silvery arm emerged from under the tarp, hanging over the side as the gurney hit a crack in the floor. Charlotte’s grew wide immediately as she recognized this hand so well—the hand from her dream. She grasped onto the whistle again.

And there was one outcast walking with the group of guards, she noticed. A sad, little girl with tight, brown curls and a doll-like complexion. Charlotte frowned at this familiar face.

Aiden swung open the door to her bedroom and flung her to the ground. He glared at her. “You can’t leave this room until we are married.” Charlotte noticed in his angry young face he was hiding some other emotion. Flashes of fear colored his eyes.

“Charlotte, I will not lose you again.” He spoke more softly, but instead of leaving, he stepped closer to her, closing the door behind him.

She scurried away, tripping over herself to the bed, afraid. But Aiden’s long legs were quickly moving in on her again, grabbing her by the back of her dress, spinning her around to face him. He cupped her face in his hands and violently pressed his mouth to hers. She tried to pull away, crying out in protest.

“You’ve always defied me, Charlotte.” He pushed her down on the bed with his body. “The whole time I watched you grow up, you were impossible to control.”

Hot tears streamed down her face as a distantly familiar pair of blue eyes flashed in her mind. They belonged to those hands. That was who she really loved. Realization slammed into her. A Vampire, she thought. That was what bothered her so badly this morning. She was sure of it. Memories began flooding back to her instantly as she grasped her necklace again.

Aiden removed his jacket, throwing it to the floor. He was over her again, forcing his lips against hers. She tried to pull her face away, but his large hands kept it there. He started to undo the front of her dress.

Just then, the door to the chamber swung open, causing Aiden to immediately pull away from Charlotte, who remained like stone on the bed.

In the doorway, a petite woman appeared. She was dressed in the garnet-colored uniform of the palace, and in her hands was a silver tray.

“Lunch!” the melodic little voice rang out. Curls poked out from all sides of the handkerchief across her head.

Charlotte, upon recognizing that voice, sat straight up in her bed. She knew who this face belonged to. She opened her mouth to yell her name, but the Witch brought a single finger to her lips to quiet her.

Distracted, Aiden ran a hand across his bangs. “Y-yes,” he began nervously.

“Good.” She turned back to Charlotte. “Well, Charlotte, I trust you will obey me from now on. I will see you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Sarah dropped the empty tray, sprinted over to Charlotte and wrapped her in her small, delicate arms, and Charlotte did so in return. Sarah could not say anything, but merely began to sob.

“Sarah…” Charlotte started, running her hand up and down her back, astounded she actually remembered this person’s name. “Sarah, I’m here. It’s okay.”

Sarah looked into Charlotte’s cleaned face, wiping at her eyes. “It’s not okay, Charlotte! They have captured us! They’ll kill us tomorrow morning unless we find a way to get out of here.”

Charlotte reached for her whistle again. “You gave me this,” she said.

“No. Valek gave it to you. But I gave it back before you were taken. It protects against Elven magic,” she explained through sobs. “It causes it to wear off.”

Charlotte reached around her neck and unclasped the thing in her hand. There was that name again. “Who is Valek?”

Sarah looked mystified at her. “Valek. The one you are fated to.” She grabbed Charlotte’s hand and turned it over, pointing out the lines there. “Remember? Your father. Your lover.”

It slowly came back to Charlotte in small pieces. She continued to stare at the whistle.

“They put you under a spell, Charlotte, so you would forget. But it’ll all come back to you, I promise.”

“Here. You need this more than I do now. I was able to remember you because of this. You need to give this to the Vampire. Perhaps now it can protect him.”

Sarah smiled faintly before clasping the necklace around her own neck. She lowered her eyes. “I was so afraid we would not see you again,” she whispered, and took Charlotte’s hand in hers, turning it over again. “But I forgot what fate told me.”

Charlotte looked down at the lines in her palm once more. One of them began to shrivel and disappear, until only one of them was left. She looked, eyes wide, at Sarah, who was now smiling.

“The whistle protected you against Meredith Price’s spells. That fate line must have been placed there a long time ago by magic. It is fake.” Hope filled the place where fear had been living.

“And where is…?” Charlotte struggled to remember the name. “The one that I love?”

“Valek,” Sarah reminded. “The guards have placed the coven down in the dungeons until sunrise.”

“But I am getting married at sunrise,” Charlotte whispered.