[ Skarthheim Territories : Autumn’s chamber. We continue from the next morning... when Vera was supposed to be introduced to her new master ( mistress to be exact) ]
The door creaked open.
Vera stepped inside the chamber hesitantly.Something about the place was already giving her the chills. The scent of iron...the incense and the scent of damn paint hung in the air...strange, intoxicating, and disorienting as well.
Her eyes adjusted slowly to the flickering lanterns lining the walls, but her head remained bowed low, as instructed.
Ahead of her, seated in eerie stillness, was a young woman.
Her back was turned, draped in layers of sheer dark silk. Her long sleeves dragged gently across the floor as she moved her brush across a canvas that looked far too... organic. The surface wasn’t cloth or paper...it was hide. Someone or something’s skin. And the pigment she painted with...
Vera’s eyes widened.It was blood.
Still, the image being created was beautiful...a hauntingly vivid sunset, where crimson streaked the sky over a beautiful lake,and a forest was somewhere nearby. The settling looked very familiar.It felt like home.. The Great Lakes? Probably not. Folks from the Old world didn’t visit the New until it was doomsday... they hadn’t visited in decades... This woman looked far too young to have travelled to the New Lands prior to the last massacre.
So not the Great Lakes, Vera concluded... Perhaps it was a similar place.
For a moment, Vera forgot everything...her ache, her fear, the weight of chains that still felt like ghosts on her wrists.An artist... a painter... How cruel can they really be? The rumors were probably just that... rumors.
She moved forward and slowly lowered herself to her knees, bowing deeply until her forehead nearly touched the floor. Her voice trembled as she forced out the greeting. "Your Highness..."
No response came. Only the soft drag of the brush. Vera’s heart thudded. The silence stretched.
And then...A movement.
The Princess slowly turned.
Vera’s breath caught in her throat.
Her face... or what should have been her face... was hidden behind a wolf’s skull.The mask turned towards her with a slow, deliberate tilt, as if studying an insect that had crawled uninvited.
Then, with the grace of a predator, the Princess extended her foot and touched Vera’s chin with her toes.
Before Vera could lift her gaze, the Princess’s leg suddenly tensed.
The princess had only moved one hand.
A wooden shelf at the far wall crashed down. Scrolls, candles, bowls of pigment, brushes, and shattered glass scattered violently across the floor.
The Princess didn’t look at the mess she had just created. She simply returned to her canvas, lifting the brush again with an audible sigh of boredom.
Her voice, when it came, was low. Smooth. Icy.
"Clean off the mess that you created first..."
" Then while you are at it... Go ahead and tell me your story... how did you end up in this land??? "
Her mouth opened, a protest was caught in her throat somewhere but she swallowed it, cunningly. "What mess?! You shoved the shelf down ,you, spoilt brat! " She wanted to shout but she knew better than to argue.
"...Yes, Princess," she said quietly, scrambling forward on her knees.
Shards of glass bit into her palms as she began to gather what she could...careful not to make noise. Her fingers were still sore, bruised, and she winced as she picked up a half shattered ink bottle that dribbled red black liquid across her knuckles.
Behind her, the Princess’s brush moved again. Then... Screech.
A little too violent this time.
" You are quiet! I said tell me your story! "
Vera heaved a deep sigh. " There isn’t much to my story, Princess. I have made a lot of stupid silly mistakes in my life. One got me out of my pack... Another landed me on these lands... yet another on the Auction floor. I am so grateful my Alpha even forgave me. And now..." she sighed aloud once more. " And now here I am, at your service! "
Suddenly,the chair scraped loudly as the Princess stood up.
A stupid mistake?Was that all she thinks about her actions??? The audacity of this woman... And Kieran??? That bastard did what? He forgave her? A Scoff left Autumn. The words were churning like tornadoes inside her. But not a single one came out. She was fuming. Bitch! He forgave you, is that right?! Fear not... I will teach you real forgiveness and how it is derived... Gulping all that hate was really difficult.
Vera dared a glance out of the corner of her eye.
She noticed the Princess was not very tall...slender even... but her abdomen was unmistakably a little rounded. Just enough to make Vera’s brow tighten.
Or at least appearing so.
The chair fell with a thud behind the Princess as she stood before the painting she had just finished. Her masked face tilted thoughtfully, one hand at her hip, the other twirling the brush in an elegant, idle spin.
Vera couldn’t possibly know what was going inside her head.
Then she spoke again, and her voice was strangely... wistful."Beautiful, isn’t it?"
Vera looked up, startled. "Yes... it is."
The Princess chuckled, dryly.
"A sunset made of blood. Romantic, no?"
Vera lowered her eyes again, saying nothing.
There was the rustle of fabric as the Princess stepped forward...closer...too close.
Then came the ripping.
She tore the painting apart into strips. The hide stretched and snapped as she pulled it from the wooden frame,shredding it with her claws.
And then... She tossed the shreds over Vera’s head.
They floated down like autumn leaves, landing across her shoulders, in her lap, across the mess she had just begun to clean.
"Clean it up," the Princess said flatly, and turned.
Vera’s hands stilled over the scrolls. She stared at the ruined artwork now lying in bits on the floor.
"Yes, Princess," she whispered.
The Princess was already halfway to the door. Her stride was long, regal, each step silent despite the stone. She paused at the threshold, not looking back.
"The sooner you are done, the easier it will be to keep up," she murmured.
Then, like a shadow peeled from the wall, she disappeared into the corridor.
The heavy door groaned shut behind her.
And Vera... just sat there.
Kneeling in bloodied parchment.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and reached again for the broom.
There was nothing else to do.