38: 38 A Taste of Terror (AVOT)

38 A Taste of Terror (AVOT)

Daisy tossed and turned the portrait, not sure what to make of it before staring at it for a long moment. This was Rhain. There was no way anyone would resemble him this much unless he had a twin, but that wouldn't make sense with the timeline either. 

At last, when she couldn't find any explanation, she thought perhaps the painter didn't get the portrait accurately, so perhaps this great-great-grandfather resembled him somehow. She wasn't content with that explanation, but it was the only one she could think of. 

"This place is odd," she murmured to herself, glancing around the room once more. The portraits, the paintings, they all seemed to tell a tale she wasn't sure she wanted to unravel. Clutching the book from the library closer, she hurried out of the room, an eerie chill creeping up her spine as she stepped back into the echoing halls.

The sudden sight of a figure out of the corner of her eye, startled her, causing her to shriek. A gasp escaped her lips before she realized it was only the servant, Armand.

"My lady, I apologize for startling you," he said, his expression neutral as always.

Daisy was left wondering how she had not heard his approach in these echoey halls. After calming her racing heart, she responded, "It is alright."

"Lunch is ready. Allow me to escort you back," Armand offered.

Nodding, Daisy followed him. Her mind was spinning with questions, the foremost being how he had known her location in this vast mansion. Did he look everywhere? 

Breaking the silence, she asked, "How long have you been serving Rhain?"

Armand fell quiet for a moment, as if considering his answer. "I have been serving the Blackthorne family for a long time," he finally said.

That would mean he had served Rhain since his childhood, but his tone suggested otherwise.

"What happened to his family, if I may ask?" she prodded, curious about the history of her new home.

Armand's response was intriguing. "Do you refer to Lord Blackthorne's family or the Blackthorne family?"

Confusion set in deeper, and Daisy frowned. "What's the difference?"

Armand explained, "Lord Blackthorne was adopted into the Blackthorne family after his parents died."

The information took Daisy by surprise. Adopted? She hadn't known that. With this new piece of information, more questions arose in her mind. "What about the family that adopted him then?"

Armand seemed to carefully consider his next words, his jaw clenching slightly before he spoke. "Well, he was adopted by the previous Marquess, who was unwed. Lord Blackthorne only had an adoptive father."

Just a father? Why would a man choose to adopt when he could still marry and have his own children? Unless he was too old. 

"And what happened to this adoptive father?" She asked, trying to make sense of it all.

"Nothing. He is alive and well," Armand replied.

Alive? But, he hadn't attended the wedding. 

She blinked, taken aback. "He wasn't at the wedding?"

"He travels extensively and has retired from his title due to his infrequent stays here." Armand explained.

This certainly gave her something to think about. It was strange that Rhain had never mentioned him. How little she knew about her husband.

As Daisy sat alone for lunch, her thoughts wandered to Rhain's past. How was his childhood, being raised by a solitary father who was a Marquess, and likely too busy for him? How old was he when he got adopted, and when did he lose his parents?

Absorbed in her thoughts, Daisy didn't even notice that she had finished her meal until she looked down at an empty plate.

"Would you like more, my lady?" The servant asked. 

"No, thank you," Daisy said, gently pushing her plate away.

"Then I shall serve you dessert."

Dessert sounded good, perhaps she could enjoy it outside in the garden. But a glance towards the window had her changing her mind. It was noticeably darker outside, dark clouds painting the sky. Rain seemed imminent.

Although she enjoyed the rain,  it wasn't exactly the kind of weather she wanted to experience all through spring.

"I'll skip the dessert," She decided, the thought of eating alone making her lose what was left of her appetite. "I think I'll retreat to my room to read."

As she stood, a thought occurred to her. "Ah, for dinner, please prepare a generous serving of meat the way Lord Blackthorne prefers." 

The servant gave her a gracious nod before leaving.

With a sense of anticipation, Daisy retreated to her room and flung herself onto the plush bed. A gentle rain had started to patter against the windows, the gloomy weather outside a stark contrast to the cozy, warm atmosphere inside her room. 

Cocooned in the heavy drapes of her bed, Daisy delved into a world of dragons and daring knights, of damsels in distress and heroes with shining armor. She lost herself in the rich narrative, her mind soaking in the imaginary world as hours slipped by unnoticed.

Finishing the dragon's tale, she moved onto a story about fairies, a tale that evoked memories of her own childhood when she used to listen to her mother narrate similar ones.

The next tale, however, was about vampires - creatures of the night, cloaked in darkness. She never had much interest in them. They were creatures made up by people's fears of the dark and the unknown. Instead of moving on to the next tale, she decided to close the book and take a short nap.

As sleep claimed her, her dreams became a nightmarish combination of the tales she had just read and the strange, eerie paintings she had discovered earlier in the day. Gone were the brave knights of her readings, replaced by menacing, dark figures, their eyes glowing with an unholy light. Their smiles revealed sharp, predatory fangs, not unlike the one she had seen in the paintings.

The damsels in her dreams were no longer princesses in towering castles, waiting for their knights to rescue them. Instead, they were prey, hunted by the dark figures in the night. Their dresses, once vibrant and rich, were now stained crimson. 

She looked down, finding herself in her white wedding dress. Looking behind, she found Rhain, not the one she knew but an unsettling reflection of the man in the painting she had discovered. His usual elegant attire was replaced by the old, odd clothing she saw in the paintings, and his normally warm eyes had turned cold and distant. His usual smile was tainted by the hint of pointed canines, a sight that sent a chill down her spine.

And as if sensing her fear, the dream version of Rhain met her gaze,his eyes piercing. The surroundings faded into an inky blackness, all light swallowed by the darkness except for the eerie glow in Rhain's eyes. The room grew cold, her breath visible in the frigid air.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the horrifying image of Rhain advanced towards her, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. As if on instinct, she turned to run, her bare feet padding against the cold stone floor, echoing ominously in the silent, dark room. Her white wedding dress floated behind her, and her heart pounded louder with each step she took. But the faster she ran, the closer the echoes of Rhain's steps got.

Fear consumed her, urging her to run faster, but the darkness seemed unending, like she was trapped in a never-ending labyrinth. Every corner she turned, every door she tried, led only to more darkness.

And then… a  cold hand closed around her wrist, jerking her to a halt. 

Daisy's breath hitched in her throat as she was spun around, coming face to face with the monstrous version of her husband. His eyes bore into hers, a malevolent glow emanating from them that illuminated his face and the unnatural sharpness of his teeth. 

He pulled her closer, his face inching towards her neck. Just as she felt the sharp point of his fangs against her skin, she woke up with a shriek and then gasped for breath. Her heart pounded heavily against her rib cage, the nightmare feeling all too real. Sweat clung to her forehead, and her hands trembled as she grasped the covers closer. 

She remained still for a few moments, allowing her racing heart to settle. With a shuddering breath, she wiped the sweat from her brow, forcing herself to calm down. It was only a dream, she reminded herself, just a silly dream.

Rhain stepped into the dimly lit room, a flicker of concern flashing in his eyes as he took in her disheveled appearance.

"Daisy, are you alright?" His voice was soft, reading to her across the darkness but as he stepped further in, she stiffened. 

It was the way he walked that made Daisy's heartbeat quicken. The image of Rhain from her nightmare, with his monstrous visage and piercing gaze, flashed in her mind, sending an icy chill down her spine. She fought the urge to retreat further into the bed, away from him.

Rhain paused, his form a blend of shadows and moonlight. His eyes held a flicker of something -- surprise, perhaps, or was it concern? His gaze was steady, unwavering, watching her like a hawk might watch a rabbit, yet there was an underlying softness to his expression.

"Daisy?" His voice was low and quiet, rippling through the silence like a soft melody. 

The fear within Daisy stirred, causing her heart to flutter wildly in her chest, but she swallowed hard, trying to push the dread away. Just a dream, she reminded herself. Only a nightmare. Rhain, her husband, was real, and despite everything, he had cared for her. Been kind to her. He was not the monster from her nightmares, but the man who'd vowed to protect her.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she forced a shaky smile. "Rhain," she began, her voice sounding oddly faint in the echoing silence of the room. 

The reality of his presence began to seep into her, driving away the fear from her nightmare.

He moved closer, his boots making a clicking sound, and sat down on the edge of the bed.  Daisy found herself slowly uncurling from her defensive position, letting go of the sheets she'd been clutching so tightly.

Rhain's eyes were a soft caress, taking in her disheveled appearance. "You're trembling," he observed, his voice a soothing murmur in the dimness of the room. 

He leaned closer, reaching out to delicately brush away the stray locks that clung to her sweat-dampened forehead. His touch was gentle, tender, like a whisper of silk against her skin, his fingers tracing a path down the side of her face. 

"Did you have a nightmare?" he asked, his voice pitched low.

"Yes..." she breathed, her voice coming out in a shaky whisper.  0

Daisy couldn't remember the last time she'd had a nightmare. It was something that hadn't plagued her for years. The realization that this was an unusual occurrence made her grip on the sheets in her fists tighten unconsciously.

Rhain continued to watch her, his touch lingering on her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "It's alright," he murmured. "Come here." 

He drew her closer, and she buried her face into his chest, his hand gently stroking her hair. His scent was a combination of cologne and roses, underlaid with something dark and masculine, which made her nerves settle and filled her with warmth. His chest was solid and strong beneath her cheek, an immovable force that grounded her.

"Do you want to sleep some more or have dinner?" He asked after a while. 

She pulled away, realizing she was already a nuisance when he returned home so tired. Her mother would usually help her father relax when he returned, taking his clothes, offering a cup of warm tea or coffee. 

Daisy's sudden shift in demeanor caught Rhain off guard. Her previous serenity was replaced by an abrupt energy as she quickly set about adjusting her hair, smoothing out her dress, and pulling herself from the bed. He observed her, a touch of amusement lingering in his eyes. 

"We should have dinner," she began, "but I shall help you remove your attire first. It must be uncomfortable now."

His lips curled into a soft smile at her offer, his gaze alight with playful teasing. "Undressing me should be after dinner, Daisy," he quipped. 

pqdm.com