Once she was positive everyone had left the castle, she sulked to the Blue Room. The Blue Room currently housed the instruments and a couple of very expensive original paintings – The Mona Lisa, and Birth of Venus were in the unused grand dining room. Originally, the Blue Room was the great hall, then it was a ball room, but now it was a glorified sitting room with live entertainment occasionally.
Guinevere sat at the organ and began to play a sorrowful tune. She couldn’t get Van Gould’s words out of her mind, and the whole argument was on repeat. I need to do something before something happens to me…maybe I should give Ol’ Van Gould what he wants – keep your enemies closer, etcetra etcetra. I would be sacrificing my happiness, but it would be for the greater good. The melody shifted to a sweeping rock ballad. If I made the League happy, it would be easier to convince them to allow me to change things…but after today, I doubt Van Gould still wants to marry me.
“Ah-hah, I knew it was you in here. The humans are in their rooms for the night, and Mimsy is dreadful at the organ.” Guinevere allowed herself to smile. Aunt Mimsy really is dreadful at the organ. She stopped playing and looked up at her uncle. “You didn’t have to stop on my account. Please, go on. No one has played since your father. It’s nice to hear the organ through the castle again.” Her smile soured into a scowl. She stood and began to walk out of the room. “Gwenny, sit. We need to have a talk.”
She sat on the love seat and he took the chair. She knew what he wanted to talk about, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to sulk and be angry about it. “Your behavior at the meeting wa-”
“Abysmal? Childish? I know. I feel awful about it, truly. However, I stand by what I said. I didn’t want to start off by lying and hiding my agenda. I do want to change the League. I do want to change human and vampire relations. If my government doesn’t want to work with me, then why should I keep them? What angers me the most is that I have to work so hard to try and prove that I am worthy of being queen while you men get to sit around and make it difficult for me.”
“I was going to say you made an impression.” Oh. Well I just made an ass of myself… The pair sat in an awkward silence for a couple minutes. Outside the window was perfectly timed cricket chirping.
“Do you really think of me as a lap dog?” He broke the silence. “Or was that an angry outburst?” He was hurt, Guinevere could tell – but she refused to apologize.
“Sometimes I do think so. I know when my father turned you, he ensured you would never turn against him so he would have someone he could trust explicitly. And that it extends to his family. Although down in the Pit, one would think the spell died with him.” Guinevere couldn’t hide her bitterness, she wanted to be truthful with him. She felt that she owed him that if she wasn’t going to apologize.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you Gwen, I was merely trying to protect you. It is easier to just go along with Lord Van Gould’s wishes. He’s far more stubborn and hot-headed than you are.”
“Well, you see, I was thinking about it. Marrying him could be beneficial.” Bernard looked at Guinevere like she had sprouted a couple more heads.
“You fought so hard against it Gwen, what changed your mind?” Revenge…served cold.
“He won’t take me seriously, so what’s a better way than to promise to obey him?” Guinevere rolled her eyes. “I’m not happy at the prospect, but it’s better than no prospect. I can’t marry a random vampire off of the street…though it would be a better alternative.”
“Gwen…be serious. Please.” Guinevere nodded and took a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly. She felt the anger and bitterness expel with her breath.
“Sorry. I should stop being a sarcastic child if I want to be taken seriously. I decided that marrying him would be beneficial because maybe, just maybe, if I comply with this then he’ll be more willing to agree to some of my changes. It really isn’t ideal, but it’s my best chance in a world of kings.”
“If you’re sure, I can call him tonight so you two can talk it out. Then maybe at your coronation you can announce the engagement.” Worry was in his eyes, Guinevere was sure he was hiding something about Van Gould.
“Honestly, no. I’m not sure. I need to take the night to think about it more. I’m going to go pray at the alter. Good night uncle.” She rose and left the Blue Room, more sorrow-filled than when she entered.
Down in the Pit, Guinevere stood at her family’s urn alter. She held her hands together, fingers interlaced.
Please mother and father, grant me the emotional strength needed to go through with this charade. Surround me in protection so I can safely do the things I wish to do. Give me the clear mind needed to think rationally, and give me the patience and mindfulness to think before I act and speak.
Mother, lend me your compassionate nature so I can show compassion to those I would not give compassion. Please give me your wisdom to uncover the truths about your deaths.
Father, please forgive me for everything I’m planning to do. Everything I’m asking for, everything I’m doing is for you, so you can finally rest in peace. I know this isn’t what you planned for me, but I have no choice.
Give me a sign that this is the right path to take, and that I’m not making a huge mistake.
Rest easy, and thank you for everything.
Before she returned to her suite, she downed a couple of plasma packs and a bowl of plasma fruit salad. She took a lavender bath to relax and soothe her mind, but she still felt drained. As she slipped on her black silk robe, she thought about marrying Van Gould, seriously. She wouldn’t do it if she had any other choice…and right now it felt like she had none. Something darker than normal was going on, and she was positive Ayden Van Gould was at the center of it. The events of today had taken a large portion of her emotional energy. She silently prayed for a restful sleep, and for a sign to appear in her dreams.
Warm…it feels so nice. Wait…something’s not rig- Ow. My head hurts. What’s that smell? I need to wake up. Whatever she was laying on felt hard, like sold ground. She began to wake. Her vision was assaulted with vibrant pink, greens, and blues. The sun was high in the sky, with rays beaming through the tree leaves. Why am I not burning? Where am I? She needed to get up and explore, but she could only manage to sit up.
Sitting up made her head throb even more. Her throat felt constricted, like she was suffocating. A sickly sweet floral scent surrounded her, blurring her senses. This place reeks of fairy magic…is this a fairy glade? A high pitched giggle in front of her caught her attention. “Well I’ll be damned. An actual fairy. You must be desperate to summon a grand master vampire.”
“You’re correct. We didn’t do it without reason. The path you’re heading down is dangerous. Filled with nothing but death and destruction. Please listen to us when we say to not underestimate Van Gould. Please. We know what you want to accomplish, but it will fail.” This has to be a dream. Or that plasma fruit I ate was spliced with a noxious elderberry.
Guinevere had never been one to actively tempt fate, but if this was real, she wanted to know: Why was she brought here? and what exactly made Lord Van Gould a threat? But first she had to know why the fairies were interfering. ‘They prefer to watch the world burn from their glade.’ was something Guinevere remembered her mother telling her.
“Since when did fairies interfere with fate?” She was curious, despite her previous thoughts.
“Fate was already interfered with. You were never supposed to be queen…your family was never supposed to die.”