Three
1259 Words
“First and foremost, ladies,” Mary’s booming voice came from behind the plants until she finally emerged from behind the bushes. Of course, she wasn’t just going to let things go. Her face was red with aggression as she stomped towards them and pointed fingers at the women before Chiara. “No one—I repeat! No one—is touching a strand of hair on Mr. D's head. Second! There is no way he would ever harm Chiara—except that one point back then, but that doesn’t count because he was on a diet then and she looked like someone else.”
Chiara discretely shook her head at Mary but it was too late. The women sat up straight and one of them turned down Chiara with great concern. “He hurt you?”
“You’re not helping, Mary,” Chiara told her with a strangled smile. To the other women, she turned and respectfully said, “I think it would be best if you leave for now.”
“Miss Chiara,” one of them gasped, looking very much offended. “Every second you spend untrained, out in the open for those monsters to—"
“They’re not monsters,” Chiara quickly corrected her—a tinge of annoyance in her voice. She looked her dead in the eye and firmly reminded her, “They were human too.”
The woman did not respond, but it was clearly written on her face that she did not agree with Chiara's sentiments. With the tension in the garden suddenly arising, Clarissa suddenly appeared from another random part of the garden. “I think our guests have overstayed their welcome,” she politely stated, straightening her clothes before imposingly standing beside their table. “Let me show you where the door is,” she courteously smiled.
“Miss Chiara,” one of the women said, once again ignoring others that weren’t Chiara. She leaned her body towards the table, looking increasingly desperate. “It is your duty as the Chosen Vessel to come with us and restore the power between—"
“I have no duties to you,” Chiara coldly replied as she stood, “thank you very much. Please, leave.”
With Clarissa, Mary and Chiara all standing over them, it was clear that their stay was not welcome any longer. The women huffed and stood up, looking down at the three of them. “Very well,” one muttered. “If you should change your mind, and I really hope you do, we will be right outside of town.” Another slipped a folded piece of paper under the teapot that had already gone cold. She looked at Chiara meaningfully then tapped the piece of paper. “Here is a way for you to contact us. Please, think wisely.”
With that, they all willingly left, and the ladies of the mansion closed the gate after them.
“Those are a pretty weird bunch of girls, if you ask me,” Mary muttered, shaking off a few dried leaves stuck in her hair.
“Odd, wasn’t it?” Clarissa asked, leading them to the kitchen—some dirt clearly on the end of her skirt. “I have never heard of an Order before.”
“Seriously? Were the two of you guys eavesdropping?” Chiara couldn’t help but ask, and when no one dared reply or meet her eyes, she slet out a sigh. “Come on, Clarissa, not you too! This, I expected but just from Mary.”
Clarissa turned to her with a guilty look on her face. “I was worried, Miss Chiara. You have just woken up in your new form and I‐we are not entirely certain of how things work. For all we know, you might be more susceptible to attacks.”
Mary scoffed and moved beside Chiara to whisper loudly at her, “She just doesn’t want to admit that she is also a gossip, but that, too, yeah,” which earned her a deadpan look from her grandmother.
“That is not the important matter at hand,” Clarissa said. “A Chosen Vessel, Miss Chiara, destined to live a hundred lives and to keep vampires in line. Do you think this is true?”
“You know, I really have no idea,” Chiara admitted. It all seemed pretty crazy to her. For decades she believed that she had a secret to uncover, and then came these three women suddenly claiming that her entire purpose was a lie. “My grandmother, she never really told me much about the Jade necklace when she gave it to me. My parents never said anything related to that either—but I guess it would make sense that they didn’t let me travel because they wanted to hide me from those bunch.”
“It all still sounds very weird to me,” Mary muttered under her breath. Just then, they all heard the front gate—made of large, heavy pieces of metal—slam close, and then loud angry footsteps, before another slam of the door that resonated through the hallways. Chiara looked at Clarissa and Mary with alarm, but the two seemed uncovered.
“Oh look at that, our resident drama queen is home,” Mary snickered, just in time before the kitchen door swung open. Everyone went quiet as Dorian walked in and went straight to get a glass of water. It was like a black cloud hung above his head, and of course he wasn’t afraid to let people see it. He finished the drink in one go, then walked back to the exit without merely as a glance at the other three.
“I will be in my study,” was all he said in this low voice before he went away.
Mary stifled a laugh, but Chiara was quite worried. “What was that about?” she whispered.
“Their meeting must not have been good,” Clarissa suggested, and then she shuddered as she remembered something. “Oh, that bunch always gives me bad feelings.”
“Have you met them, Clarissa?” Chiara asked with intrigue. “Whoever ‘they' are.”
“I think so. Once when I was a child,” Clarissa thoughtfully recounted. “There was big news of a killing spree just the other side of town and the night after, a few people were knocking at the gate. Instead of them coming inside, they took Master Dorian out of the mansion, but I remember feeling very scared of them. They had this air around them… it makes one feel like they are beneath them.”
“Kind of like those Order ladies, huh?” Mary chuckled as she checked her nails. “But, like, they’re the crystal voodoo type.”
Clarissa sighed at her granddaughter’s vernacular, then straightened her clothes again. “Anyway, I think it is best if Master Dorian gets some tea and biscuits. After all, he wasn’t able to eat any earlier,” she said, already moving to prepare those by the counter.
Chiara took a small tray and a teacup, then hesitantly placed them down as she looked at Clarissa. “I can go bring those to him,” she slowly said, “if you’d like.”
Clarissa glanced at her and smiled as she was arranging biscuits. “Yes, yes,” she said, “I think your presence would do his mood much better.”
- Writer
