Chapter 8: Lady Redwater

Previously: The Redeemer

 

"Madam? There is a Lady Redwater here to see you."

 

Lady Valerica turned away from her books and looked up at her steward. "I don't believe I know a Lady Redwater."

 

"She claims to be in possession of an Alythian relic."

 

The vampire matriarch's eyes widened as her jaw tensed. "Send her in."

Leila sauntered in, looking like Valerica's worst nightmare. Valerica's obsession with cleanliness and propriety was infamous throughout Volkihar, yet Leila strolled right on in, unwashed, hair and clothes dirty. She stood before Valerica, gleefully unrepentant.

 

"Leila," the ancient vampire greeted sourly. "You have returned."

 

"Volkihar is even bigger than I remember," Leila said cheerfully.

 

Valerica was stiff, her voice tight. "Did anyone see you enter?"

 

"No," Leila replied. She briefly glanced down, then back up, her glee diminished. "I didn't want them to see what I was reduced to after your husband kicked me out." She shot the elder vampire a look. "I'm still wearing what I had on the day I was expelled."

 

"Is it true you have something of Alythia's?" Valerica demanded, not wanting to drag this out.

 

"An Undead Ring," Leila said, brandishing the ruby set in gold. She slipped it on, let Valerica observe the change, then removed it again. "Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't just some empty-headed twit. When you're the subject of courtly gossip, you quickly learn to see its value. And I learned many a valuable thing here."

 

"And whose corpse did you have to pry that off, I wonder?" Valerica inquired grimly.

 

"Oh, this was freely given," Leila snickered. "You know how the lords of the mainland are. So provincial. The best Movarth could do with this was give it to a country girl and use her as lure."

 

Valerica looked at the ring. "So this was Movarth's." She snorted softly. "I told Harkon not to waste a ring on that one." She looked up at Leila. "You know, of all my husband's playthings you were always the most hopelessly in love, the most shamelessly fawning. What do you want anyway... Leila?"

 

"As former mistress of your boring husband, I still carry the rank of lady," Leila stated firmly. "By right and by tradition, I belong at court. My expulsion was unjust." Glee and humor quickly gave way to anger. "I was sold to Volkihar to curry favor, Valerica. You knew that. I came here as commanded. If I was 'shamelessly fawning', it was as Vighar commanded. I have avoided covens every single night of my exile because vampires are routinely punished for performing as commanded!"

 

Her voice had risen and her words echoed slightly through the chamber. Leila realized she was trembling with fury and willed herself to calm.

 

"I don't want your husband, my lady," she said coldly. "No one wants your husband. You know what I missed about Volkihar? Not him. I missed my handmaidens, my cold seawater baths, and my suite of rooms. I don't give a fuck about your family."

 

Valerica studied her in silence. Ragged, filthy, furious… yet still unmistakably noble. Like it or not, she was a Volkihar vampire through and through. "You're lucky he has a new mistress to distract him. If he remembered you, he might cast you out all over again. As it is, I see no reason why you can't return."

 

"I want my old rooms back."

 

Valerica sighed. "Done."

 

"And the wealth that was due me, plus interest," Leila insisted. "I never want to worry about my comfort again."

 

Valerica scoffed. "You have need for gold?"

 

"I have projects on the mainland that need sponsoring... artists, mages, and the like." 

 

Valerica was starting to get annoyed. "Anything else?"

 

Leila mulled it over for a moment before handing over the ring. "You assigned me two maids last time. I want three."

 

***

 

Leila sank into the cold bathwater and sighed, inhaling the salty scent of the sea. It was better than all the skooma-induced dreams. This time, she belonged to no one and it didn't matter what anyone thought.

 

One maid oiled and scrubbed the callouses from her feet, while another soaped and combed her grimy hair. A third stood by, examining her discarded dress and jewels.

 

"What shall we do with these, my lady?" she asked.

 

"Clean and polish my necklace," Leila ordered. "Wash and mend the dress." They were mementos to ensure she never forgot.

 

After they'd scrubbed her head to toe, they rinsed her off and dried her. While one maid massaged her skin with jasmine oil, the other two paraded gowns for her until she chose one of deep red and gold.

 

Leila realized she had missed all this simply because she had earned it; it was due her. Her time at Volkihar had been most humiliating, and her dismissal unfair. After years of wandering the wild, she deserved a life of comfort.

 

After braiding her hair away from her face, the maids perfumed her with juniper and adorned her neck and fingers with gold. When Leila felt restored, she descended into the great hall of Volkihar.

 

 It smelled faintly of saltwater and old stone, and the arched ceilings seemed impossibly high.

 

She drew looks of course, but no one said anything. They were a fickle lot, always focusing on whatever was new, and she was most certainly not new.

 

"Leila?"

 

She turned to see Lord Orthjolf, looking exactly as she remembered. The tall Nord was surprised to see her, stopping in his tracks.

 

"I'm Lady Redwater now," she said, smiling.

 

"So... you have returned, then?" he asked, uncertain.

 

"Lady Valerica allowed me to come back," she confirmed, nodding. "She says my timing is auspicious. Something about a new girl."

 

"A descendant of House Vantinius, no less," Orthjolf told her.

 

"Oh," Leila said, blinking. "Harkon always was obsessed with them. Hopefully, she will be the last."

 

He offered her his arm. "Join me for a drink? I'd like to hear of your travels."

 

"Of course, my lord," Leila accepted, grinning as she took his arm. "I can assure you, it's quite a tale."

 

Next: Gifts