Tale of the Century Bride Complete: Historical Vampire Paranormal Romance Box Set (5 page)

Catherine hugged and kissed each of the members of her family goodbye, first each of her sisters, one at a time, and then her mother. This was much harder than she would have imagined, fighting through her own tears as they broke down uncontrollably, squeezing her and not wanting to turn her loose from their grip. Finally she managed to get them a bit under control and then here came her mother, just as distraught as her sisters were, but much quieter in expressing her grief.

“He needs me, Mama.” Catherine began to her mother, trying to make this decision and impending transition as calm as possible. “I must do this mama. I’m happy to do my part to marry him and to help protect you and my sisters – and all of Dalmar. Maybe, who knows, if I can give him a child, then maybe, possibly, he will even let you all come to visit me someday.”

“My sweet Catherine… my baby girl…” she said as she held Catherine tightly in her arms one last time, “but such a thing… it’s never happened. No one has ever been to the castle,” then her mother started sobbing, “Not that anyone knows of… other than a bride who went up there. We all know that. This is our final farewell my sweet daughter. How will we go one without you? I have no idea but I know we will have no choice now. But you above all, I worry for what fate awaits you.”

“Don’t be sad for me, mama. Count August, really, he is a peaceable man – I have seen it for myself. And I promise you, this is what I want.”

Catherine squeezed her mother tightly and tried her best to console her. But she knew there was nothing more that she could say to console her family who were about to lose their oldest child and oldest sister. As soon as she managed to break free from her mothers grip she moved on to finish her goodbyes with her other friends and neighbors.

Gently disentangling herself from the commotion of the crowd as easily and as quickly as she could, she moved from one person to the next accepting their farewells. She did not want to draw out the proceedings any longer than necessary, just in case a riot or some other disturbance suddenly started because of Count August’s selection. She did not want anyone to get hurt on her account, in case any form of rebellion should start.

As all this was going on Count August slowly made his way to Catherine in the background, taking her hand in his own as soon as he finally reached her. “Fierce eagle,” he said to her gently amidst all the noise and activity, “it is time for you to say your goodbyes to your family, allies, companions and friends. We will leave as soon as you are prepared to go.”

He smiled at her for a second, squeezed then let go of her hands as he returned to his stallion, and took the reins. He mounted his stallion and then the royal officer handed him the reins to the beautiful, matching black mare that he had brought with him before the ceremony ever began. He watched her patiently as Catherine did all the farewells that she needed to do.

Within a half hour or less she was done. August awaited her, still mounted on the beautiful black steed. Sensing that she was ready, he approached her pulling the mare along behind. He bent over to take her hand, and placed upon it a gentle kiss.

“Are you prepared to depart, my young eagle?” he asked Catherine.

“Yes,” was her only reply. And that was exactly all he needed to hear. With no effort at all, he immediately reached down and lifted Catherine up onto the back of the beautiful black mare and gently sat her down into the saddle in the glimpse of an eye. He smiled at her, still holding the reins to the mare in one hand before he turned them over to her.

“Are you ready then?” he asked her once more. She returned his smile, pulled the reins tighter and immediately urged her new mount into a trot, heading right for the castle. Count August laughed out loud as she bolted off to their new home. He caught up with her quickly, there was never a doubt of that, then the pair quickly raced out of the village, leaving Catherine’s old life behind her. Before them both, the imposing Castle Dalmar invited them in, summoning Catherine to her new life. A life she would begin right now.

It was a clear night when Catherine and Count August demounted their mares at the castle’s outer gate. Her heart dropped when she’d actually marveled the site from the entrance. The moat surrounding the castle, the stone outer wall and the barbicans; she was in love with it all, she grabbed the Count’s hand and smiled gleefully in awe as they strolled through the inner passage of her new home.

They were considered to be married once they had left for the castle. The wedding was unusual and unconventional, yet that was exactly what she had chosen. The men drank and the women cried after the couple had left the century festival festivities. When the celebrations were finished a few days later, the newlywed couple were already established at the castle, just a few minutes to the north.

For the entire ride, August held her hand a stroked her softly. She was lost in her thoughts, both nervous and excited. When the castle came into view as they passed the ridge, she kissed him as passionately as she could. It was at the tip of the mountain, more like a fortress than a castle. Unlike others across the land, this castle was set up with six towers atop the outer wall. The inner wall held four. Aligned with the castle’s four corners were more towers.

As the newlywed couple strode through the castle’s courtyard, an unsettling feeling surged through Catherine’s soul. There were torches lit on both their sides aligned in rows of five, leading to the main hall. She loosened her tight grip from her king’s hand. Though they were in the courtyard, where two gardens had been established on each side, there was no resemblance of life.

From the guardhouses once they’d stepped through the gate, to the stables, blacksmith’s and mason’s station on the left. From the soldier’s hall and quarters on the right to the dry well at the courtyard’s heart, if a castle’s foundation was built on preserving a life, this one held only the outlook of death and decadence. It was the upmost unsettling.

“August,” she said. “This place frightens me.”

“How so my dear?” he asked her.

“There is only gloom here.” she responded. “How could a place that holds such beauty be filled with so much darkness and disparity instead of happiness and joy?”

“Well that is all quite simple my love.” He stopped. “With you I trust that life will soon resonate within these walls. I wouldn’t doubt the place needs a bit fixing up, but this is what I have called home for centuries. Appeasing as it may be to self, I would have never thought of this castle as being one of oblivion and bereavement.”

Catherine gently placed an open palm against her king’s rugged face and slowly brushed downward. “But it is my love…” she said with a hinted grin.

“This…” She looked around as if she searched for the right word to utter. She gazed back into his eyes with empathy. She said, “Stronghold… needs a woman’s touch of elegance.”

As her hand slid by his mouth, he slightly turned and kissed her thumb, grabbed her hand, turned it downward and kissed the back of her hand. “As you wish my fierce eagle…”

They continued to stroll through the courtyard. Upon entering the main hall, Catherine noticed something very peculiar. Well, she’d noticed it from the beginning but had chosen not to say anything. There weren’t any maidens or servants to greet them upon their entry. In fact, there was not a living human being or dying vessel in the entirety of the castle.

There were no animals, no frazzle-dazzle paintings of previous heirs, and most important of all, there was no furniture. The castle was completely desolate. Although there was a large fire burning in a pit toward the end of the hall and mounted torches scattered about, the entire area was cold. She had not foreseen this coming.

She caught a chill before she’d tensed. “I doubt if there is even food here.” she said in a calm but joking fashion.

August snickered a bit.

He’d thought of all the fancies a mortal would crave in this age of time. In previous eras with his preceding wives he needed not to fancy them with the pleasures of company nor delicacies. They would provide sustenance for themselves. The tribute brides were more of a sacrifice delivered by the townsfolk. They did not question his rule.

But Catherine was different from the other brides. She was extremely compassionate about her arrangement. A hunter, she was fully capable of seeking out her own nourishment with skill and many years of experience. Truthfully, it was in her blood. But now that she was married, tradition would have it that her husband provided all of her necessities. And this is what excited him.

She stepped away from August momentarily. She envisioned long burgundy drapes with gold trim ahead of the stone walls, paintings of August and her, the castle and their people. She imagined servants in traditional clothing with platters of the finest cattle, fruits, sweets and fine wines, knights in shining armor at a rectangular table with the Dalmar Crest in its center, her mother and sisters, all there to share her happiness.

“What will you do my handsome husband of the night? What will you do to please me?” Catherine asked of her new husband.

August turned to the wall behind him. He picked up a torch and handed it to her. “Wait for me in the donjon.” he said, as he pointed to the right. “The passage leading to the central tower is beyond the chapel.”

“But where will you go?” she asked hesitantly.

“I will return shortly,” August said.

“You’re… you’re going to leave me in here… alone, tonight on our wedding day?”

“But what of your biddings, and your needs that must be fulfilled?” August asked, confused by her questions.

“August… I don’t think I would be able to spend the night in this… immense castle by myself. Ummm… do you think it can wait until the morning?” She asked with a chill running up her spine.

She was simply being herself. She had forgotten about his curse of all things. Not yet was she used to a vampire’s lifestyle. And she would never do anything to inflict harm upon the emotions of her new loved one.

“Was it a witty attempt at a jest?” August asked her. It wasn’t a cold expression or tone. It was more like presentable one, but with a slacking sense of humor.

“How silly,” Catherine laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I must be the worst bride ever―”

“The best,” said August.

Her heart skipped a beat at that comment. She heard him, but could not believe what she heard, and her cheeks swelled to a ripening blush. “Yeah, right.” she said, turning away from the light.

“You’re just saying that,” she said shyly.

“I couldn’t be more serious at this moment.” he said, brushing down her hair with the palm of his hand.

“You must know, if you’re not satisfied with the upkeep I’ll have it started before daylight.” He stopped brushing by her neck and slid his arm around her shoulders, drew her in close and proceeded toward the stairs.

“Please tell me you at least have a bed.” she said.

He huffed, looked toward the stones above and shook his head in the negative. Not because he didn’t have a bed, but at the thought of his new start being one of the most challenging feats he’d ever had to accomplish in all of his years.

Weeks go by.

And during those first weeks there wasn’t a single element that Catherine would not receive upon request. Except for a wedding night celebration, as of yet. August’s devotion brought tranquility to her life, though she’d still had not seen her family, friends or loved ones since her wedding day. And she missed them all terribly, especially with all the new things she was now experiencing.

Out of all the things she’d asked of him, though, she had not once yet mentioned anything of her family and friends. This was not by any magic. Not by a long shot. This was done only under the spell of his persuasive charm; the desire for her womanly innocence and the highly energetic passion to please her.

The days were soon to grow short as the winter neared. During this time of season the sun’s peak remained at the horizon. A widespread tenebrous cloud tumbled above the open terrain, across the clear sky as if death had returned. It seemed to bring with it black snowfall in curious descending flakes.

The storm cloud was headed in the direction of Dalmar Castle from some 240 kilometers away. It hailed from over Jotenheim, Home of the Giants, a mountainous region that none but a few had ever seen and returned from.

Catherine was in the master quarters, asleep in her nightclothes, beneath the silk sheets of her large bed. The sun’s beam shone through the perfectly carved rectangular holes of the castles stone. On her vanity, emeralds and rubies, diamonds and gold, shined and sparkled with flare. The mirror reflected that energy into a bright, lively circle of light, with which its heat rapidly worked its way around the room.

Sweat had begun to build up over her body before she was awoken from a comfortable sleep. She shielded her eyes from the glare with a jolt of the right arm as she’d turned to it. She held her breath at that moment, in shock after the fear settled. The magnifying rays should have burned her skin once it hit. But it did not.

She rushed a clammy left hand to the temple of her her head-throbbing ache before making her next reflexive move. She covered herself with the silk, leaped from the bed and ran into the cool breezeway of the hall in a flash. Catherine rubbed her fingers across the rich fabrics of the red drapes – gold trim – that gave color to the once blank stone walls. There were banners, three of them on each side. She touched each one of them on her way down the stairs to the main hall.

She smiled immediately when she hit the corner. She always smiled once she’d hit the corner ever since her vision had come to life. Well, most of it anyhow. She had everything set up just the way she wanted. Bringing life to the castle – that was her purpose. People, vibrant colors, a few knights, the decorations, tables and servants were all there.

A garden in the courtyard, complete with beautiful shrubs, plants and flowers, not just dried up weeds, and horses in the stable, and the assistance that came with it all. She just wished that August would be there in the mornings with her to see it all and to enjoy that incredible, surreal fantasy and enchanting sensation that she felt each morning.