Frowning, I slowly lifted the lid, and music chimed through the air; a sad, haunting song. But I knew the tune somehow.
As it played, I circled around slowly, hugging myself, taking in the room; purples and blues must have been her favourite colours, and I imagined, from the stars on the roof and the ones I now noticed painted all over the walls, fading with age, that she must have loved the night sky, too. Maybe she was a dreamer, like me; maybe she believed wishes would come true. But she never lived to find out.
The song ended, making the room seem like a very lonely place.
“How many daughters did Lilith have?” I asked.
“I'm not sure. I believe there were three—maybe four with Morgana.”
“Do you think this room has been boarded up since fourteen hundred?” I asked. “Like, did the other children ever live in here?”
David's eyes stayed on me, where they’d clearly been the whole time. “I don't know. Why?”
“There’s a rocking horse.” I nodded at it. “They weren’t even invented until, well, I can't remember when, but it wasn’t until around the eighteenth century, was it?”
He walked over and pushed the ear of the horse, making it rock. “That’s what people say. But I heard my uncle speak of them—talked of seeing one when he was child. And that was as early as the thirteen hundreds.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“So, I guess that doesn't give us any clues about how long this room has been like this, does it?”
“No. Unfortunately.” He smiled at the horse then, focusing, a world of thoughts going on behind that secret grin.
“What are you thinking?”
“It would be nice,” he said, keeping his eyes on the horse.
“What would?”
“To have a child of our own.”
I wandered over and stood beside him. “One day.”
“I don't know, Ara. I…now that I can be here with you, I guess…things are changing.”
“What are you saying?”
“I've been thinking.”
“Mm, you shouldn’t do that. Thinking is bad for your health,” I said as he slid his arms along my sides, holding me close.
“No, it’s bad for your health, mon amour. I'm fine,” he joked. “But, I was kinda thinking it might be nice—to maybe at least start trying for a baby again.”
I frowned at him for a second, about to ask who he was and what he’d done with my David, but Arthur’s words filtered through me, making me grin, though I kind of wanted to slap him as well; he had to have a baby with me to get the dagger. “And you think I'm suddenly ready for a baby now?”
“Yeah.” He turned away quickly and picked up a doll off the shelf. “I think you’d make a great mother, Ara. I mean—” He smiled, stroking the doll’s hair. “I think we can do this. You always loved Harry, and you have a heart full of empathy and compassion. That's all it really takes to begin with. The rest we can learn as we go along—” He shrugged and placed the doll down. “Or read books.”
“I don't know. I'm still not so sure.”
“Of course you’re not.” He came up and placed his hands on my waist again. “I made you think I had no faith in you, but I do. And I want this—I want to be a family with you.”
Only so you can leave me as a single mother in order to keep me safe for eternity. “That’s quite a switch from ‘I'm only nineteen’.”
“A lot has changed since then.” He delicately took my hand.
“Okay. Fine,” I said, merely because it served my own purpose. “We’ll start trying again.”
“Great.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek, his dimple showing as he stood back, even in the darkness of this room trapped in the past. “I know we can do this.”
“That’s if I can fall pregnant, David. I can't even calculate ovulation because I haven’t had a period since I first arrived at the manor.”
“And you took the pregnancy test?”
I nodded. “It’s in my drawer, if you wanna see it.”
He hugged me to him, breathing his concern into the crown of my head. “I hope completing the transformation hasn't made you infertile, like other vampires.”
“Don't say that—that would be very bad.”
“I'm sure we’ll be fine.” He kissed the top of my head.
* * *
Everyone clapped as the saltshaker came to rest by a wine glass. I looked to the end of the table, and even David, who I half expected to groan at his brother’s display, was cheering and smiling—happy. I gave a little wave, to which he returned a bow, in a very kingly manner.
“Show us another,” Margret said, clapping.
Jason looked at his uncle bashfully and took up a spoon. Arthur didn't seem too impressed at this show of power, and I think Jase…Jason knew that. He focused on the spoon, holding it in front of his nose, and slowly lowered his hand, leaving the spoon in the air, floating.
I joined in the applause this time, too impressed to play the humble queen, but when David stopped smiling suddenly to glare at me, I lowered my hands into my lap, my eyes following, and sat quietly while our people talked animatedly about Jason’s next cool trick.
“Oh, you are a very talented young man,” Margret said.
“Yes, he is,” David said. “Perhaps my bother’s new role should be Court Jester.”
Everyone laughed. Jason followed with something witty and clever that only amplified that laughter, but I actually didn't even hear it. My mouth felt dry and my dinner was stuck against a huge lump in my throat. And it wasn't because David scolded me for joining in—it was something else. I wasn’t sure why, but it just felt like something was missing—like I’d forgotten something really important, and wherever it was, it made my heart ache.
David's eyes narrowed as he looked past the long line of vampires and saw my obvious sadness. I offered a weak smile and looked back at my lap again. I could feel Jason and Arthur’s eyes on me, too, but I knew if I looked up, Jason's face would be saying “What’s wrong?” and I would think in my mind “Something’s missing.”
What a stupid way to feel. Something’s missing. What could be missing? I had everything. My David was sitting at the head of the table, finally, and tonight, we’d go to bed and I’d fall asleep in his arms, and tomorrow, he’d be king. What more could I possibly want?