6 Pitiful

"I look forward to it." Lord Reign smirked. He turned his gaze to Marci. 

She avoided his stare, using the servant who poured her wine as a distraction to look away. 

"Your father and I have come to somewhat of an agreement." He continued.

"Agreement, my lord?" Marci asked, sitting straighter in her chair as the servant walked to stand by the wall.

'Come, meet your fiancee.' Marciella the first had said when Marci came into the room. 

"You never told her about it, good." He smiled, for once that morning pleased with the Duke. "It seems you follow some orders well." 

He turned back to Marci.

"I've bought you, in a sense." He shrugged, his smirk growing when Marci met his red gaze, "It's simple to say that you belong to me now." 

She sucked in a breath. Her ribs felt like they were going to break apart with how hard her heart beats against them.

"Well, almost." Lord Reign smiled and took a sip from his cup. The red liquid inside was thicker than wine normally looked. 

Because it's not wine, Marci thought. 

"Becoming a target for Lord Nicholas isn't a good thing. Did the Duke mention the tensions between them?" Lord Reign asked her. 

"Marciella the Second doesn't have half the brain to understand politics, my lord." Dutchess Marciella spoke.

Marci casted her eyes downward, picking at her eggs. 

There was a tic in the vampire's jaw when he clenched his teeth. 

"I'm a very patient lord, Dutchess." His voice was an octave deeper, and he glared at the woman. "But my patients can only extend so far. Don't speak unless I address you, yes?" 

Her nose flared at his words. No one ever spoke to her like that, not anyone human. 

It was a strange sight to see her mothers power become useless when a vampire was present. 

"Yes, my lord." She bit out. 

His gaze returned to Marci, who gulped loudly. 

"Your father, more or less, will be going to war with Lord Nicholas." Lord Reign said. "And I say that lightly," He chuckled. He took a sip of his drink, lips coming back red. "It's a silly notion when Nicholas can just rip out his heart."

Marci's eyes whipped to her father, the fear obvious in her gaze. What had her father done to start a war among a Vampire Lord? 

"He was quite desperate to speak to me. To get his hands on my soldiers. So desperate in fact, that he offered up his only daughter." Lord Reign chuckled.

A chill settled over Marci as she picked at his words. Her father offered her?

"That did not -" Duke Marcus started to speak, but when Lord Reign cut his sharp eyes to him, the words died in his mouth.

"This family must truly relearn their manners." Lord Reign grumbled. 

The Vampire cleared his throat, "I've seen what I needed." He stood up, the chair scraping against the wooden floor. "Duke Marcus, escort me out." 

Her father scrambled out of his chair, moving so fast that his chair fell backwards. 

Marci froze, body stiffening when a cold hand grabbed her wrist. His hold is firm, fingers pressing into her skin as he leaned down and placed a kiss on her knuckles. 

She held her breath, unable to move when he tilted his head up to stare at her. 

The power in his red eyes sent a shiver down her spine. 

She finally breathed again when Lord Reign walked out of the room with Duke Marcus behind him.

"Unbelievable." Dutchess Marciella the first lifted her half empty wine glass and swallowed the remains of her drink. 

"Mother, please do not say father means to marry me off to that monster!" Marci begged, the fear evident in her tone. Her shaking hand gripped the table as if it would help still them. "He is a vampire!" 

Dutchess Marciella narrowed her eyes at her. Though she wasn't a monster, she was one full of green envy. 

"Are you not happy, my sweet child?" She asked, voice just shy of menacing. Her delicate words were poisoned with her jealousy. 

"No, of course not. Father is likely selling me to a monster I do not know. He was being choked against the wall, mother. Why are you not afraid as I am?" She whispered. 

Dutchess Marciella frowned. Her eyes begin to water as she casted a glance towards the door. 

"Of course I'm afraid, silly girl." She whispered in return. "But what am I to do? A war is coming, Marci. And you're the only way we can win." 

"So you sell me to a monster?!" She hissed back. Her vision began to blur with unshed tears, "He almost killed father, how will he treat me? I am just as human as him. I bleed just as he does." 

Marciella the First pressed her lips together, "It is not something we can stop, my sweet child." 

Marci hiccuped, "This is what you want. Do not despise your only daughter because I am getting it when I do not want it." She wiped her tears with her cloth napkin.

"Excuse me, I've lost my appetite." Marci pushed away from the table. She stumbled, foot catching onto the skirt of her dress. 

Her cheeks flushed red, hating that she must embarrass herself in front of her too perfect mother. 

She hated wearing the poofy dress, making it impossible for her to run.

And she walked out of the door with less dignity than she did when she came in. 

Unable to hold it back anymore, Marci let out a sob. She sniffled, pausing to lean against the wall. 

"Oh, milady." Lea murmured when she saw her. 

"I don't suppose you've seen all that?" Marci asked, voice soft and pitiful as she straightened herself. 

Lea glanced around at anything but her, "Yes, my lady. Me and a few other maids." She gestured to the small group of girls that whispered and stared.

Marci sniffed and nodded her head, then snorted as another tear fell. 

"I'm being sold," She scoffed, sounding small and sad. "I'm not a bride, I am an object to be sold. For war, no less." 

She shook her head and began her trek to her bedchambers. Lea followed closely behind her. 

This wasn't romance. Romance was when one offered another a flower. Romance was when one complimented another. Romance was one proposing to another.