Chapter 3: Selene Vitalis

The family of Baron Vitalis gathered for dinner, seated around the grand table. At the head sat the Baron himself, a short, fat, blonde man showing signs of balding and graying. To his left sat his firstborn son, John Vitalis IV, and to his right, a beautiful 40-year-old woman with pink hair, who seemed to cling to her youth with her choice of wardrobe.

The rest of the children filled the table as well. Next to John sat the eldest daughter, Cassia, followed by the twins Isadora and Ophelia. Across from them sat the fourth daughter, Selene, and at the end of the table, the youngest son, little James.

The chatter across the table was loud , until the baroness abruptly slammed her arm on the table. The sudden sound echoed through the room, bringing an immediate hushed silence. The baroness was known for her strict demeanor.

Despite her strictness, there was no denying her beauty. She was an Aida woman, known for their enchanting and graceful qualities. Throughout history, Aida women were renowned for their captivating allure. One of the Empresses of the kingdom was an Aida woman.

"Mother, Father, I have a request," I announce, bracing myself for their reactions.

The baroness looks at me with obvious disinterest on her face, signaling her lack of enthusiasm for my words. Taking this as my cue to press on, I continue speaking.

"I would love to attend the opening of the Den of Serpents in two months," I state, maintaining my composure.

"Why on earth would you want to go there? It's a dreadful affair, just a bunch of kids jumping around hoping for a snake or something," she brushes off my request without much consideration.

"I want to be a participant," I declare, causing gasps to ring out across the table.

"Absolutely not!" The Baron's voice booms across the room, his disapproval evident.

Summoning all my acting skills, I put on a display of distress, trying to appear as a loving and concerned daughter.

"Father, the last Vitalis to participate was our great-great-grandfather. If no one from our family participates this time around, our nobility might be at risk of being revoked," I plead, casting a glance at my sisters who also wear expressions of concern.

Seeing their distress, the Baron and Baroness shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"I wanted to participate because I also wish to attend the academy to become a healer. I believe I am the best option... unless we wait for seven years until little James is of age and he participates?" I propose, carefully choosing my words.

The Baroness becomes visibly uneasy, no doubt worried about the safety of her sons. I seize the moment to press on.

"Furthermore, if we attend the ceremony together, my sisters might catch the attention of a noble in attendance..." I suggest, knowing this might sway their decision.

The idea of potential advantageous connections for their daughters seems to strike a chord with my parents and eldest brother. They begin to consider the benefits such an opportunity could bring.

My sisters are excited at the prospect of catching the eye of a noble suitor, while my parents and brother ponder the potential advantages of such a connection. The only one who seems unhappy is my eldest sister, already married to a local merchant. How unfortunate.

Dinner is served, and we all gather to enjoy the meal. Throughout dinner, my parents, especially the twins and my mother, seem to be preoccupied with thoughts of how they'll 'enhance' their womanly charms. With our mother's head-turning beauty, it's possible they might succeed. Unfortunately, not all of us inherited that trait... my big brother certainly took the short end of the stick in that regard.

After bidding my parents and siblings goodbye, I leave the large dining room, allowing my carefully curated mask of emotions to slip from my face. It has been a month since I arrived here and assumed the identity of Selene.

Walking through the modest mansion, I make my way towards my room. It may be the smallest, but I adore the views from the balcony it offers.

Entering my room, I move slowly and cautiously, scanning for any potential sounds or signs of intruders. It's a force of habit from my time living as an assassin. Finding everything clear, I finally allow myself to plop onto my bed.

Attempting to sleep, I find myself restless and unable to settle. Thoughts of my husband, that idiot, flood my mind. I miss him dearly.

Unable to stay still, I rise from the bed and change into attire that would surely outrage the Baroness if she knew. It's my assassin clothing, meticulously sewn by my own hands.

Making my way to the balcony, I deftly maneuver down the wall and head towards the town below. The burning blood thirst within me needs to be quenched somehow. Fortunately, I had heard a tale about the son of a local tailor's shop who had assaulted multiple women and managed to escape punishment.

Blending into the shadows, I find him near the pub. I wait patiently, hidden from view, for I have all the time in the world.

*

The next morning, as I take a leisurely stroll in the garden, I overhear two maids discussing the fate of Chad, the tailor's son. They speak of how he was found mutilated from torture, but unfortunately, he died before anyone could come to his aid.

Being skilled in plants and poisons is a given for any killer worth their salt. I had given Chad some herbs to prolong his life until morning, when someone would find him and seek help. Despite being the one who tortured him and left him in dire straits, he had looked so hopeful when I departed, leaving him there bleeding out. Human beings are indeed complex creatures.

I find myself musing on the situation as I continue my stroll through the garden. Chad's expression of gratitude as I provided the false hope of survival comes to mind. I wish I could have been there to witness the moment when his hope shattered upon realizing he couldn't be saved. The herb I used to keep his heart pumping for 12 hours was, in fact, a poison without an antidote. After those 12 hours, it would begin to act against his body, burning him from within.

A dark chuckle escapes my lips at the thought of his suffering and despair. Humming a tune to myself, I continue strolling through the serene garden, my thoughts consumed by the intricate dance of life and death.

As I stroll through the garden, my attention is captivated by the sight of two moths dancing amidst a field of blood-red roses. Their delicate movements and the vibrant backdrop mesmerize me.

The decision to attend the academy solidifies in my mind. If Maxwell truly exists in this world with me, it will be easier to search for him there. The depth of emotion I feel threatens to swallow me whole. I am determined to find him because he is mine.

Lost in my thoughts and the beauty of the garden, I continue humming a tune, the melody weaving through the air as I walk.