CHAPTER EIGHT. FLEETING ATTRACTIONS

          "What happened to staying away from the princess?" Rhiannon tells her brother.

          Klaus of course knows that the princess referred to Anastasia. He also knows that he doesn't owe it to his elder sister to obey her wishes. He can do what he wants. "I am sure this is what you tell Rebekah. She does spend far more time with her."

          "Her intentions for her are far purer than yours."

          "Perhaps."

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

          She is stood at his side and hates every moment of this.

          They pose as lovers but are from it. Their relationship is denatured of the fondness often found between engaged couples. But not many married for love in medieval times. For Anastasia and the Duke, it is honor and allyship that unite them.

          For the hour to come, they'll have to be together. A welcome ceremony for the guests arriving from Rome is being hosted.

          When the guests arrive, it is a Lord — short, robust man — and his younger wife. He is famed for sharing a close friendship with the Emperor.

          He greets the Duke first, then Anastasia. He embarks on political conversation with Leonas till he brings up his upcoming union to Anastasia. It's what everyone wants to know these days.

          "And the wedding? We are all waiting for the wedding," the lord exclaims with keen eagerness.

          "Soon."

          Anastasia dreads for that day to come, something tells her that her betrothed does as well.

          That ugly sentiment is flushed away when she sees Klaus walk into the room. He's more attractive than she last recalls. Ever since he kissed her, he's become more attractive to her. She looks at him, hoping he'll look at her too.

          But when she thinks his eyes will meet hers, his gaze keeps wandering.

          He is beckoned over by one of the ladies from court, Anastasia pretends not to have been nosing and returns her attention to the Duke.

          Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Klaus is talking to someone. She quickly lets her gaze flee to him. He's with Antonia. Dark, high-cheekboned beauty.

          He has time to talk to other women but not her. It's been nearly a week since their last interaction. She knows they are not together but she wanted to think that after their kiss, they'd be closer. Yet it feels like he's forgotten about her.

          She pushes down her jealousy till it feels like it was never there. The last thing she wants is to confront that she's affected by what he does.

          She looks down at her hands, they are crossed together and she notices she's wearing the same silk gloves she wore at the ball where they first met.

          There's a stain on the index finger. She brings her hand a little closer, it's a brown smudge. It's strange for she thought she had spilled wine over it. Wine should not change shades, unless it wasn't wine at all.

          Then, Leonas asks her something she doesn't quite catch, she glances up at him and hides her hands behind her back. She looks like she's been caught in something indecent, her expression so comical it makes the Roman lord laugh.

          The Duke doesn't repeat himself, and he seems annoyed at the lack of answer. He goes back to conversing with the lord.

          Anastasia doesn't stop to wonder what the Duke might've told her, her mind is stuck on the stain in her glove.

          There is one thing that turns brown with time. Blood.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Anastasia feels like she might die of boredom. Parties have lost the glamour they once had for all she does is sulk and drink during them.

          She guesses she could start being less of a misanthrope and let herself enjoy these social events. How many have not dreamed of attending one of the Duke's parties?

          She thinks she hears her mother call her ungrateful. It's something Lucia would've said if she heard how her daughter felt.

          Thinking of her makes Anastasia look for her mother in the crowd, she finds her talking to her father and Himesh.

          A curious pair, Anastasia doesn't think she's seen her mother interact with the castle's witch before.

          She thinks of the plant Penny found in her mother's drawers. What was it that Contessa called it? Chasteberry? Yes, that's it. She also mentioned something about bearing an heir. Anastasia can only guess that the plant helps in fertility.

          She is nearly appalled at the thought of her mother having another child. Anastasia thinks her so...ancient. But in truth, Lucia is no older than thirty-six.

          Anastasia doesn't think she could bear it, all the attention would go to the little baby then. She turns her gaze away from her mother.

          Then, she sees Rebekah. She's with Felix — her boyfriend and the head of the Duke's guard. Her head is almost leaned to his shoulder and he has her hand on her forearm. For a secret affair, they are not being so secret right now.

          Anastasia also sees how Kol goes up to the pair, probably to tease them. She didn't think she could look at him again, but it's easier than she thought. He doesn't look like the monster he did.

          But she absently places her hand on her neck — right where he bit her. The cut isn't there; it makes it hard to tell if it really happened.

          With my guidance, you could be great.

          She thinks back on Kol's words. Something about the way he said it made it sound convincing. He could make her a great witch. She doesn't know what it means to be a great witch.

          She prefers dismissing that part of herself, it's what her mother does.

          She moves her hand away from her jugular to the diamonds on her neck. The day the Duke gave her this necklace, she thought of how much she was losing — the agency she was letting go of.

          Now, she is being forced into working for a cruel man or else he'd kill her.

          She wishes she was back home, at least then she knew most things.

          She sits by herself on the grand table, considers joining the party for a moment but she keeps to nursing her wine. If she had stayed home, she'd be free.

          Eventually, the Duke comes to join her for they share a table. He never bothers in greeting her, and the first thing he does is raise his chalice for it to be filled.

          Anastasia drums her fingers on the table, then reaches for one of the sugary oranges.

          Leonas is looking toward where she refuses to: Klaus and his lady of the evening.

          Anastasia feels dumb for ever looking his way, if only she hadn't been so enthralled by him and had noticed she was just another woman to him. Her time with him didn't feel like a lie exactly; more like a game. Yes, a game of fools.

          The Duke ties himself to the mundane with his strange love for gossip — as he sees Klaus speaking to the castle's strumpet. Maria. A beautiful woman married to a man from Court. Maria does have other, better traits, but she isn't known for them.

          Their chat seems flirtatious, but Maria has the ability to make any interaction with a man seem like it — not intentionally but rather for the reputation she has.

          "I could've sworn he liked you," the Duke says.

          I did too, Anastasia says but it stays in her head.

          "I'm glad that's over," he says. It's like he's having a conversation with himself.

          Anastasia glances at him. Leonas doesn't look pleased, he doesn't look anything, really. He's inexpressive, unless drunk.

          What could it mean to spend her life next to this man? Would she learn his mannerisms? Would she become reticent and guarded, like he is? She is not sure she could remain who she is now.

          She takes her chalice and nearly downs her wine.

          She thinks about Klaus, too. If he hadn't been ignoring her, would he be talking to her right now? Would he had asked her to dance? Or would he had told her to ditch the party and be with him in some faraway, secluded room? Perhaps, she is being overly dramatic and this is not the end of them. But she does tend to be more attracted to the men that don't want her as much as she does.

          For now, she'll rather drink than debate any longer on Klaus.

          As she's busy with her wine and orange slices, she sees Kol approach her table. She hopes she's wrong about it, she doesn't think she could talk to him without stuttering.

          The hold on her chalice strengthens as he comes to stand in front of her. She wonders what he wants to do to her now—she feels her heartbeat race.

          Up close, she sees the monster he showed her he was, fears that he might display his fangs again or that threatening scowl he wore.

          Instead, he smiles like they are old friends.

          "Would the duchess like to dance?" Kol asks, offering out his hand. It is but a lighthearted inquiry, it makes it hard to believe the things he's capable of.

          Anastasia stammers. She's staring at Kol and her eyes shortly fleet to the Duke—as if she might've considered his permission but thinks better of it, and so she stands.

          An opportunity. She can look at this as an opportunity. If Klaus is choosing to ignore her and talk to other people, then there's no harm in dancing with his brother. It's only fair.

          Besides, the Duke is more distasteful at the use of the unfit title than his betrothed being asked to dance.

          Anastasia grabs onto Kol's hand. He keeps a strong grip, nearly uncomfortable, as he leads her to the dance floor. There's not many people dancing. The dance tonight is different, partners don't touch.

          Anastasia struggles to slip into the dance. Kol is a natural, like he's done this a hundred times before.

          She tries not to look at him, keeps her peer trained on his chest. If she looks into his eyes, she fears she might only see a monster.

          Last night, when she tried going to sleep, all that would flash in her mind's eye was that image of Kol with the strange features; fangs and red eyes.

          She's not sure of what he is, she's not sure if she wants to know.

          "I know what you're thinking. Do you really think I'd do something—out here, in front of everyone?" Kol laughs, like he thinks it's ludicrous.

          Anastasia lifts her head. "I don't know what you'd do."

          She feels his eyes on her neck, it's some sort of taunt from his part. It's working, Anastasia wishes she'd worn a higher neckline. Her shoulder twitches.

          Kol smiles, like he enjoys making her uncomfortable.

          Anastasia wishes she could make him feel like he does, scared and uneasy—so, she stares at him, all piercing and cold.

          All that Kol sees is a weak attempt of intimidation.

          He's asked her to dance to make sure she's kept the secret of his state, and perhaps, to get under Klaus's skin along with it.

          Kol's eyes drift to Klaus, he stands at the other side of the ballroom, dancing with Maria. Anastasia hears a chuckle from Kol. "My brother is rather quick at moving on."

          Anastasia does not say anything, barely draws a hum.

          Kol leans closer, ready to tell something witty. "I don't think you should let that go unpunished."

          Anastasia sees him wink and she can't help the giggle that escapes her. But she's quick to pull her lips into a straight line, she shouldn't be thinking lightly of a killer.

          Kol notices it though, he likes the conflict he creates in her head.

          When their dance comes to an end, he reaches for her hand and even though it's not a part of it, he gives her a twirl as one final move. As he does, she feels something in between their hands. When he lets go, she lets her hold onto it.

          It's a piece of paper. When she opens it, it would reveal a message: to meet him tomorrow.

          She looks back at Kol, and he has his finger on his lips, like he's telling her to keep it a secret. She does and closes her fist.

          It's when she's walking away from Kol that for the first time in the night, Klaus looks at her.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

          "I awfully feel like I'm being toyed with," says Anastasia, pacing the room in distress.

          Rebekah has invited her to stay over in her chambers — a proposition of girls' time. After seeing Klaus dancing with another woman and Anastasia with Kol, Rebekah had grown rather curious as to what had happened between the two.

          It took one mention of Klaus's name for Anastasia to go on a ramble, and suddenly she was spilling all of her feelings to Rebekah.

          "He kissed me so passionately, and now he's ignoring me. Have I done something wrong?" Anastasia brings her hand to her chest, as if that idea was impossible to conceive.

          "Klaus is rather strange when it comes to women."

          "So, you don't think it's weird—his sudden disregard?"

          "Don't be offended, but that's how he is."

          "I've met men like him," Anastasia says, turning to arrogance, "and when they meet me, they tend to change."

          "Do they, now?" Rebekah leans forwards, interested in her character. "How old are you? Twenty?"

          It's odd to hear Rebekah talk of twenty as such a young age, for some reason Anastasia feels shy to tell her. "Nineteen," she says, looking down at her feet.

          "You're young," Rebekah says, then clears her throat. "We're young. You wouldn't know all men, especially not ones like my brother."

          "How is your brother?" Anastasia asks, curious.

          Rebekah is careful of choosing her words, she doesn't want to reveal all of Klaus' truths. "He doesn't really care for others, not exactly the best of brothers."

          Anastasia chuckles a little. "So, he's a little mean? Is that it?"

          Rebekah smiles, amused with herself. "It does sound like that's only thing wrong with him, doesn't it?"

          Anastasia thinks back on Kol—so intent on killing her just a fortnight ago. Does Rebekah know of her brother's nature? Is Klaus anything like Kol? Is that what Rebekah won't tell her? Anastasia finds it hard to picture Klaus being anything like Kol. Yes, he does seem more arrogant, but there's not that spark in his eyes, that killer's character that Kol has in him.

          "I still don't understand what I did to upset him," Anastasia brings her hand to her lips — as if that could be the thing wrong with her: the way she kissed him.

          Perhaps, she should've played harder to get—not given in so easily.

          Rebekah stands closer to Anastasia, grasping onto each of her arms. "What if I told you that you didn't do anything wrong?"

          Anastasia steps away from her and approaches the mirror, her eyes focused on her mouth. "It's my kissing, isn't it? I must've messed up. Perhaps, he likes something something different—bit more tongue, you wager? Less of it, probably."

          She faces Rebekah with hands clasped over her head — as if nothing has put her in more distress than the rejection of a man. Rejection feels a lot like coming close to dying, she thinks.

          "Alright, calm down. I have a solution for this." Maybe it's the wine she's had or she's just that much of a flirt which makes Rebekah say, "Try it with me. I'll tell you the truth."

          Anastasia is glad she's not facing her for in that moment her jaw goes slack, but she's quick to hide her surprise as she gives Rebekah a coy smile. "You don't mean...? Alright, I'm fine with that."

          She has approached Rebekah as she said those words. She stares at her, unsure of where to start. Rebekah grabs onto her wrist, laughing a little. "Don't be nervous now. I won't bite."

          Rebekah doesn't let Anastasia reply as she slams her lips to hers.

          Anastasia first gasped but easily sunk into the kiss. Rebekah had a soft mouth, yet her kiss was nothing like that softness—it was fervent and desperate, electrified with passion. Kissing her was like tasting an ambitious dream, if one could. Her tongue slipped inside Rebekah's mouth. Her hands tangled in her blonde curls. Rebekah had her hands cupping Anastasia's face.

          Anastasia was the first to pull away, dazed as if in a drunken state. Her gaze flickered from Rebekah's mouth to her eyes. Rebekah did the same and so their gazes coincided.

          Inebriating, that was what Anastasia would describe kissing Rebekah was like.

          "Tell me the truth now?"

          "My brother is an idiot, I'm not."

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

          A body is found that night — and she is found in a pool of blood.

this chapter was for two situations i have encountered. scenario (1) guy gives you attention, tells you he likes you and suddenly ignores you afterwards. scenario (2) haven't you ever wanted your gfs to ask to kiss you? i have. 🤭