Fated

Eve

Standing in the entryway of this mansion leaves me feeling more alone than ever. I listen as they speak and yet the words seem to float away until she speaks the words.

“5pm sharp as per our arrangement. And…your offering?” my mother…this woman who raised me…doctored all my cuts and scrapes and took care of me when I was sick…she speaks as though I am being traded. Traded for what?! What could be worth sacrificing your child?! I glance up in horror as my mother walks over to an elderly woman standing at the bottom of a grand wooden staircase and takes a large rune sealed box from her. She says not one word to me before leaving. When the door closesI feel the tears that I have been holding back since I woke this morning spill out and slide down my cheeks. All I want in this moment is to disappear.

“Let me show you to your room.” the deep voice startles me out of whatever trance I was in as I only nod in response. I follow him to the staircase and take each step one at a time slowly ascending until we reach the top. We turn left and walk down the hall passing 2 doors and stopping at the third. He opens the third door to reveal a large bedroom with a queen sized bed, 2 nightstands, a dresser and a vanity. On the left wall there is a door leading to a private bathroom that looks almost as big as the bedroom. Straight ahead of me are 2 sliding glass doors that open to a large balcony that overlooks the forest. Without a thought I walk quickly to the doors, flinging them open and stepping onto the balcony. As I feel the gentle breeze caress my cheek I begin to smile as I feel the earth’s energy shifting around me.

“I chose this room because I thought you would appreciate the view. I know your kind needs a connection to nature to be at peace.” that voice…it is deep and smooth, but something in it resonates as though a deep power rests within him.

“What do you mean ‘my kind’? Are you not a witch?” I couldn’t help but ask, seeing as how I may as well learn something about the man I will now be living with.

“No, I am not a witch.” he replies warmly as a smile plays across his face. “Unpack and Chef Miguel will have dinner ready shortly. We will talk more over dinner.” he leaves immediately, not giving me a moment to so much as protest.

I slowly make my way through the room taking in my new surroundings as I fight back tears. I do not bother to unpack and instead decide to step back out onto the balcony. The view really was breathtaking, but in my current state I was struggling to truly appreciate it. I stared out at the trees where the forest’s edge began and for a moment I could swear I see something moving within the trees. I stare harder trying to focus on the area where the movement was, but as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. As a thought slips into my mind I can’t help but let out a small giggle.

“Maybe it was bigfoot.” I mumble to myself as I giggle again at the thought. There were many stories of monsters lurking in the darkness, hidden by nature…but Bigfoot was the only one we knew to be a myth.

I hear a gentle knock on my door followed by the most sweet warm voice. “Miss, dinner will be served in 10 minutes. Might I escort you to the dinner room?”. The woman’s voice is low and calm. I make my way to the door and open it slowly. Standing behind it is a short elderly woman. In my mind I mused that she looks much like I would have expected red riding hoods grandmother to look. She was short, maybe 5 feet tall at best, with gray hair pulled neatly into a bun, dark blue eyes and was wearing a gray dress with a white apron. She smiled warmly as she patiently awaited my response.

“I would appreciate an escort. This place is huge and knowing my luck I would get lost.” I giggle at the thought of how true that likely was.

“My name is Martha. If at any time you should need anything, I can be reached by dialing 11 on the phone here.” she gestures to the phone hanging on the wall just inside my door. In my excitement over the view I had completely failed to notice it was there. Her smile has calmed some of my nervousness as now I find I, too, am smiling in response.

“Thank you Martha. Do you know why I am here? I mean…I just don’t understand what is going on.” my smile fades as I speak.

“Oh miss, I do not meddle in Master Shay’s affair. Perhaps you can ask him about this at dinner. He is waiting for you as we speak.” she replies with a reassuring smile. “Follow me dear.” she quickly turns and begins walking down the hall to the stairs.

We descend the stairs and take a right through the large wooden archway and then turn right again into the dinning room. I stand just inside the door taking in the room. The table is a large dark wooden table with 12 chairs. On the table is a beautiful satin table runner that is burgundy with gold designs weaved through that I cannot quite make out from this distance. On the runner at the center of the table sits a large bouquet of lilies accented with baby’s breath. Did he somehow know that lilies are my favorite flowers? But no…how could he? This is the first time I have ever met this man. I stand staring lost in thought.

“Good evening Eve.” Dante’s voice sounds like a calm purr from the other end of the room. I look over to see him standing at the window holding a glass of amber liquid as he looks out the window,

“Good evening Mr. Shay.” My voice sounds so weak as it slips past my lips. He turns to me and arches his brows at my formal use of his last name.

“You may call me Dante. In fact I would much prefer it. Is your room to your liking?” He speaks in a smooth and warm voice with a small smile pulling at his lips, but I cannot help but feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“It is a nice room, but I have a lot of questions. Like what am I doing here? Why did my mom bring me here?” My voice is noticeably shaky no matter how much I try to steady it.

I watch as his smile fades for a brief moment before returning. “Please, sit down and I will tell you everything I can. You must be famished.” He gestures to a seat next to the head of the table.

I walk to the seat he was gesturing to as he pulls it out for me and gently slides it in toward the table.

“Would you like something to drink? Water, wine, or..?” he trails off at the end waiting for my response.

“Water is fine. What I really want is answers mr. Shay.” I watch as he visibly winces at my continued use of his formal name.

“Then let’s get down to business. Martha, please get Eve a glass of water.” He speaks the words with a hint of amusement in his voice.