Ulterior Motives

Sabrina ran down the Aningmoon halls with tiny steps and a pained face.

Embarrassment dwelled within her being as she tried maintaining some dignity for she was 'The Dame' of all servants.

Unfortunately, the omega within her wanted a release, but rubbing her body all over her master's wasn't a considerable option, so she was rendered wet and working. Release was beyond question in the face of the jobs she had to accomplish.

People stared nevertheless; for no matter the number of jobs one has, the thrill of procrastinating and prying prevailed victorious over all deadlines scheduled. Some people consider it "living on the edge" as Sabrina has heard, but in her own humble opinion, it is nothing but a mask over their inherent incompetence.

"G'mornin Dame, what's got you so excited this early?" someone shouted across corridors. It was the Royal Florist, working, hunched over a vase.

"Certainly not you or your scent, Mr. Florence," Sabrina's reply was quick to contour the fragile man's face into a scowl.

"Dame, pray tell, what's the rush? I'm hearing all sorts of things. Someone slapped His Majesty?" the latter part was spoken in a pure scandalous tone by the Royal Chef.

Sabrina doesn't participate in gossip but replies nevertheless, "The only person receiving a slap in this household will be you if the egg isn't fried for exactly fourty-four seconds," whilst pulling the breakfast trolley away for Lord Julius.

The chef grumbles something along the lines of, "You know I wouldn't mind that," and continues to time his cooking.

"Morning, Dame! Will the Lord have breakfast in his room?" A servant boy questions. Finally, someone deserving of Sabrina's time and attention. The maid stops, smiles at the little boy and replies pleasantly, "Yes, my boy, serve him in his quarters when this nuisance is done cooking."

The Royal Chef flips the egg vehemently.

The boy nods and goes back to wiping the plates clean as Sabrina makes her way to Prince Julius' chambers.

Facing Julius Castello right after Czar Castello was as exhausting as standing in the sun while listening to a cow moo, all day. For Czar was physically gruelling and Julius was mentally exhausting. Collectively, they both were frustrating.

Sabrina's path way was blocked by a minister, dressed in his official robes of bule and silver. He tipped his hat in greeting as Sabrina bowed respectfully.

"Greetings to my Lord Crowne."

"Greetings, Dame, Greetings as flourishing as ever," his tone was hushed and eyes wandering, looking around for someone who could possibly eavesdrop.

"Is there something I can help you with, Lord Crowne?" Sabrina questions gently, unknowingly whispering to maintain their secrecy.

"Yes, you can," he whispered back, now staring at Sabrina with blared brown pupils. He fidgeted with his pockets and pulled out a rose-gold envelope. He thrusts the envelope into Sabrina's hand and gestures her to hide it the very second.

Sabrina nods, pushing the envelope in her breast pocket as Lord Crowne looks her in the eye and continues, "Deliver this to my Estella, will you please? This is something she asked of me a while ago. Is she doing okay? Is she eating well? Is she safe?"

He looks trampled with worry, fidgety and malnourished. His focus is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It concerns Sabrina, but she is in no place to question it. She exists to follow orders, so she nods and replies, "I shall have it delivered in earnest. Lady Crowne is doing marvellous," in jail, "And she eats well," when she isn't pouring herself into books, "And is considerably safe," until this evening. hopefully.

Sabrina leaves out a little for the good of everyone involved.

This seems to have washed some relief on his face, for he smiles, genuinely, for the first time in a while and stops fidgeting. His stance gains stability as he continues, "That is comforting to hear. Thank you Dame, I shall take my leave now."

Sabrina bows in respect while he tips is hat, tongue leaving a lot unsaid, and takes his leave.

Sabrina pushes the trolley forward, the envelope weighing a burden on her chest. She wonders what matters their chaotic royalty is concerning themselves with now.

<3

Julius lies dead, or so he hoped, on his coral covers with a napkin shoved in his nose. He had thrown his shirt away and now lay sprawled with a wife-beater on, leaving his bandaged arm on display.

His mind is puzzled with the events of this morning. Dawny eyes dazed by the malice in Edith's brown ones.

Her sharp eyes, murderous if glares could kill.

The mole underneath her left eye.

Her blushing earshell.

Her warm neck...

'She's a human, Julius!' his sub-conscious seems to remind him.

The man groans, flailing his arms around like a child. He'd love a taste of her, nevertheless.

'She's a hostage from Toril Maely's home,' another thought strikes. This one is more dangerous than the first one.

Toril Maely, one of the few survivors of Planet Elespeth. A genius alchemist. Shifty as they come. This could all be a plan and Edith Chambers could be a tool. A veiled human.

That might be why he couldn't pick a scent over her!

Did his alliance mean nothing to Toril?

Julius pouts and lazily feels around for the paper in his pocket. On the right. On the left. The back pockets. Nothing.

All empty.

Selene have mercy on his damned soul—!!

Just then, a knock strikes at the door. Julius picks up the scent of The Dame and lets her in. His mind reeling to the fight he had with Estella's wolf. Was the paper lost? Quite possibly. Stolen? Who would—

Edith? Nah. She doesn't even know. Or...does she?

Sabrina rolls the trolly inside and bows in humble respect, "Greetings to the youth of our Empire, Your Majesty Julius, I have your breakfast and a message from the Crown Prince."

Did Estella and Czar know as well?

Was all of this a trap laid out just for him?

Nah. People around here don't think as much as he does...right? Do they? Fuck him. No, fuck his brother. Yes.

Julius, who was now standing in front of his bed, drops back on it. An accurate representation of his system logging off.

"Sabrina, can you, for once, bring me some good news?" Julius all but whines, staring a piercing glare at Sabrina's unbothered form placing his breakfast on the table.

"Yes your highness, we have butter-pepper toast for you this morning. Your favorite!" Sabrina smiles, pulling up the lid from a plate and pointing at the golden delicacy.

Julius jumped up— death could wait, he's got food to eat— and took three big steps to his dining table. "Yeah, now we're talking. You're the best, Sabrina!"

The servant gives him an apologetic smile as the Prince devours a toast in one mouthful. To Julius, food is second to happiness. Good food.

"The Crown Prince wishes to tell you this, and I quote," Sabrina coughs to gain Julius' attention, who begrudgingly looks up, and continues, "He says," Sabrina holds an imaginary scroll in her hand and pretends to read out, "Let Julius know if he does not have any more information to give me by the time Estella Crowne's trial is done, I'll have his head served to the hounds." She folds the scrolls and looks back to find Julius on the floor, toast hanging halfway through.

'He knows I'm working with Toril Maely. Someone snitched. Kill me slowly.' Julius' mind repeats. Dread engulfs him. His gut lurches down and his finger tips start feeling cold.

Nervousness. Anxiety. Plain, cold, dread.

"Y-Your Majesty, are you o-okay?" Sabrina questions carefully, peeking Julius' pale face. She is hit by a wave of distressed pheromones. Being a werewolf alpha, his emotions were too strong for a mere shapeshifting omega. Sabrina's breathing quickens and hands grow cold.

"As good as a dead person can be. As good as a dead person can be. As good as the dead—" Julius was chanting when suddenly he stood up, eyes bright like stars and smile wide like the milky way.

Sabrina smiles in fake comprehension, ready to dismiss herself, when Julius all but pulls her in a hug. She is overwhelmed with a rush of his Alpha pheromones and chokes over his spiked scent of pure mirth.

Now, her legs give out just fine.

Julius, almost dancing, shoves the napkin out of his nose and exclaims, "Sabrina, connect me with the Necromancer!"

<3

The Huxley Institute of Modern Arts, Edith's College, stood mightily still in her presence. She looked like a chipped fingernail and felt like a deflating balloon in front of the eerily silent building. There were eyes, watching her, through every plant laden window engulfed in darkness. The stalking eyes gleamed white.

"I'm dumping her. HA. HA. HA."

Marlin stood at the college gates, pointing a finger at her, laughing with his head hitting his back. The eyes suddenly changed into wide mouths now laughing at her.

Edith tries to cower away and stand in a corner, tries to make herself smaller in the presence of countless eyes watching her and innumerable mouths mocking her— but she can't. There is nothing behind her. White nothingness. An abyssal pit that denies her entry. She cannot hide from anyone or anything.

She stands wide open under the naked eye, vulnerable. What an easy target. She hates herself for feeling that way. But this is who she is. An easy prey. Easy.

She stood being laughed at, withering, she closes her eyes to hide. Blood rained for Marlin was stabbed. In the gut. He falls to the ground, bleeding, and over him stands the maniacal looking Czar Castello with a bloody sword in his hand. Half of his whole is coloured in red.

He stalks her as his prey. She has nowhere to go.

There's people behind him. Familiar silhouettes. Edith knows them. They hold chains in their hands. They're marching toward her.

"Listen to us sweetie, come to us. We do what is right for you."

"We're looking for you."

"We're coming for you."

Their words, familial at first, deepen into slow baritones attacking her. Consuming her. Shaking her soul.

Piercing her ears.

Waking her up.

"Wake up, loghead, they're here for us!!"

Edith's mind jumps into consciousness only to witness the small form of Pristine Maley towering over her. She slumps her head against the wall and groans.

"Huh? Who?What? Where?" She questions with slurred words. She looks around the dingy basement and suddenly the events of last night wash over her. So does the pain of all her injuries.

She wimpers unintentionally, holding her head in her hands. It throbbed as if someone hit her with a bowling ball, three times in a row. With full force.

"Are you okay?" Estella's soft voice questions from somewhere afar. Edith shakes her head.

"No. It hurts. So fucking bad," the blonde whines out with a rasp, using the wall and Pristine's shoulder to stand up. The world feels shaky.

"Humans," Pristine rolls her eyes, "Ever the vulnerable ones. Live a while. We're being moved."

Before Edith could register Pristine's words the little brunette wraps a hand around Edith's waist and superspeed walks up the rickety staircase. They stop in front of the open door, in a split second, as a guard awaits their presence.

"Fuck- never, never do that ever again! That was horrible!" Edith groans out, clutching her gut and gagging into thin air. "Feels like you sucked the air outta me-!" she rasps out, doubling over Pristine's shoulder.

The little girl makes a face of dismay. Estella, standing leaned against the door, eyes the hunched figure of Edith in pity. She gently pats Edith's back in a soothing manner. Patting her back as the blonde coughs.

"Humans are so slow," Estella whispers to Sabrina, who stood beside the guard, pulls her lips in a straight line.

The Dame nods, making a subtle face of disgust at the human-vampire duo. Pristine gives her a stink eye and Sabrina instantly turns to look at Estella instead. What a sight to behold.

The Dame pulls the rose-gold envelope from her breast-pocket and hands it to its rightful owner. "Lord Crowne came by. He requested me to deliver you this," Sabrina explains the context upon receiving Estella's questioning glance.

The ravenette's eyebrows pop in understanding. "You didn't happen to tell him anything about this morning...did you?" She questions, avoiding eye contact and brushing her hands through her hair like newfound territory.

Sabrina shakes her head in negative. Estella sighs in gratefulness.

"I'll take my leave now," Sabrins bows in respect. Estella nods in acknowledgement of her greeting and steps back for others to step out. The doorframe was small, only letting one person through at a time.

Edith, still partly nauseous, gets dragged out by Pristine as Sabrina asks them to follow her.

"Wait, what about the wolf? she isn't coming with us?" Edith questions, looking up for dear life to see Estella waving behind them. Her raven curls pouring over her shoulders and a smile so dazzling, Edith forgets to breath for a second. The guard closes the door between them before Edith could wave back.

What a cockblocker!

Edith makes sure to flip him off.

"No, she's detained for sometime," Pristine replies mechanically as Edith slumps over her shoulder again, sighing. Estella was too pretty to be left alone like this.

"Oh yes, I remember the decree from this morning. They were announcing it like some Royal message and I— wait!" Edith was muttering to herself until reality washed over again.

She jolted up, standing straight and looked around. Gothic Halls, inexcusable taste in aesthetics and guards standing at a considerable distance in badly designed uniforms. "T-That means...you guys...this place, it's n-not a prank? You're, like, for reals? What are you even?!" She questions in pure exasperation, horror drowning her expression as she takes a few hasty steps away from Pristine.

She has a college test tomorrow.

Pristine brushes away stray strands of Edith's hairfall from her shoulder and replies proudly, "I am Pristine Maely. A Fourth Generation Artificial Vampire."

Never mind the test, say what now—?!

Artificial Vampire?!

Edith's eyebrows lost themselves in her hairline. "A-Artifical...vampire? Is that even possible...? Why the fuck would one want to— That sounds like...artificial vegetables or some shit. How can you take something as authentic as a Vampire and make that artificial—?!" Edith rants, touching Pristine's cheek and pulling it. She feels for Pristine's carotid artery and it was very much present and throbbing. "You're warm though...not plastic. Why, you look very real to me— Actually not. That explains why you all are so fucking pretty!"

Yeah, that's the only reason for their otherworldly beauty. Toril, Nettie, Pristine, Julius— they were all supernaturals!

Pristine swats Edith's hand away and pulls her face in a scowl.

"Excuse me, I'm a minor! Stop feeling me up!" Pristine exclaims, crossing her hands over her chest.

Sabrina, unbeknownst to all, rolls her eyes. She was not paid enough to tolerate this ridiculousness.

Edith frowns at Pristine with a disgusted face and retreats her hand. "I was just curious-" She begins, only to be cut by Pristine's sharp:

"You're as supernatural to me as I am to you. But you don't see me invading your personal space and feeling you up!"

Edith presses her lips in a thin line and folds her hands behind her back. "Apologies," She mumbles, walking ahead to follow Sabrina and annoy her instead. Edith needs answers and she'll get them through any source. By any means. The churning pit of curiosity within need satisfaction.

Pristine catches up and walks on Sabrina's left, whilst Edith takes her right. Collectively, they begin their quest of annoyance.

"Why are we here?" Pristine questions.

"Are you a vampire?" Edith questions.

"Where are you taking us?" Pristine asks.

"You're pretty warm though," Edith replies to herself, taking liberty in touching Sabrina's arm. She was swatted away like a fly.

"Will we be tried in a court?" Pristine pesters.

"Do you, like, sparkle in the light?" Edith pries.

They climb a staircase.

"Do you guys want money?" Pristine proposes only to earn a glare in return.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they did..." Edith scrunches her nose at the layout of the place. So dark and grimy. Sad and wilting. "Who designed this place?" She puts forth.

"Will we be tortured for answers?" Pristine questions.

Edith stops. "I don't have any answers! Why would I be tortured?!"

"Because you're eating my ears out!" Sabrina exclaims, pulling Edith by her sleeve and falling into step again. Pristine pulls her lips in a straight line.

"Well it's not my fault that you've got me captured," Edith replies in a nonchalant tone.

"And its not my fault that you got caught in the first place," Sabrina replies with a smug face.

Edith scowls.

Pristine takes the moment to speak, "And it is all her fault for getting us kidnapped!" she points at Edith with both of her hands. "They couldn't have broken in if you didn't open the door!"

Edith's nostrils flare. "It's all your father's fault!" she counters with unfiltered fury.

Pristine shrugs her shoulders in reply.

The vibes on either side of Sabrina were totally contrasting each other. The pure Aningmoon Castle was being defiled with these creatures. A vampire of all people! Curse their soul.

Sabrina claps her hands and stops in front of two doors. Edith realises they had walked their way into a dimly lit corridor, barely guarded. Escaping from here would be a piece of cake!

"Here we are!" Sabrina exclaims and before anyone could open their mouths, she pushes Edith through one open oakwood door and Pristine through another and closes the doors behind them.

A shadow materialises itself half-way through the wall and smiles at Sabrina.

"I want you to torment them. Especially that Vampire. Don't kill the human, yet, we'll use her as a sacrifice for Pontaianak."