Knight's Bane: A Fantasy Romance Story by Kirk Mason

Author:Kirk Mason [Mason, Kirk]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Beatrice

Beatrice ran her fingers along the fence bordering her pasture, looking longingly at the cows.

Her mind found its way to memories past as she moved her gaze to the back porch door.

She had tried to leave during the daytime, once. She'd insisted to her father she was only monstrous in the face. The sun would not burn her.

Luckily, she had only half believed it, and tested a finger to be safe. She'd darted it back as the sun burned it near off.

Gods bless her heightened healing.

But Beatrice had still been in denial. That night, as she sat down for supper with her father—who ate a steak dripping with blood—Beatrice thought it would be the perfect food to try.

At the dining room table, Lord Petre shook his head at his daughter.

"I don't see why you insist on trying to be something other than what you are," he had said in his typically blunt yet not uncaring fashion.

"I wish to be how I was before," Beatrice had replied. She poked the steak with her fork, ignoring the gag bubbling up in her throat. "Wouldn't you, were you me?"

"Were I you…" he said, sighing and taking a long sip of wine. "Were I you, I would know I possessed a father who loved me as I was."

Beatrice paused at his words. She nearly dropped the knife before tightening her grip.

Her father had never been so candid.

Eat him!

"But I won't always have you, will I?" Beatrice retorted. "What then?"

"I wouldn't outlive you regardless."

Beatrice flickered a smile, then grabbed her fork and sliced through the succulent meat. The juices ran out to make a fatty puddle of red.

Placing the cutlery down, she pulled the plate up to her lips and sipped. She tasted the blood, yes, but the meat juices infected the liquid like piss in a river.

The moment it swam down her gullet, she threw up a spray of cow's blood she'd ingested prior. It went everywhere, not just dead ahead but in every direction before her.

And now, Beatrice stood before her garden.

Across the enclosure, the space where she'd cleaned William's clothes was already dry, as if it had not been there.

She slid over the fence and cut through the pasture to climb over the gate, ignoring the cow that looked up in her wake.

She took the steps up the patio to her abode.

Inside, the house was quiet. Beatrice slid her fingers against the edges of the smashed mirror, finding them harsh and cutting. The wound scabbed instantly, soon falling off to heal properly.

"Is that you, dear?" Tatiana's sweet tone rang out.

Whether it was a coincidence or cruel irony that she called Beatrice dear as William's mother had done, Beatrice cared not.

Instead, she entered the library, removing her hood but keeping her cloak on. It made her feel less exposed to keep it on.

The room was lit by a few candles, causing frightening shadows to cast from Tatiana. Standing before the mahogany book wall, she was in a long gown trailing over the carpet.

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