Under the vampire Lord's protection

Silas stood expressionless under the sun, eying the servants that banded together in order to unload a carriage cart full of lavish chairs. 

Masculine voices arose as the men coordinated their efforts, the series of two words that mostly repeated in between shouts being "Here!" and "Next!".

A human servant donning a somewhat more presentable fit than the rest, but still not as luxurious as Silas', came practically running towards the vampire, sheets of paper in hand. 

"This is the lot, Master. Sixty high-backed chairs in today's load," he handed the stack of papers to Silas.

"Good," said Silas dryly, "I'd like them moved to the ceremony room," 

"Of course, Master," the servant bowed before Silas only to then turn around and shout at his subordinates, "You've got your orders! Get to work, everyone!" 

As the wooden chairs were on the heavier side, each man picked one up and climbed the stairs leading to the back door of the manor, soon forming a line of people that streamed from the rear courtyard and continued beyond the door. 

Silas lifted the first page topping the stack for his gaze to fall on the second right as three new carriages came into view. 

"Right on time!" the same servant that had spoken before declared, a smile on his features.

From within the walls of the carriages, Silas counted a total of fifty heartbeats. Some wilder than others while a bunch were simply too calm to belong to people that knew their fates were sealed.

Three, non-royal guards that had come with the carriages stomped and stood by the door of each car, ordering the passengers out of the vehicles. 

From the first two carts stepped men in white, shabby clothes. The third carriage transported women all wrapped in similar dirty rags.

One after the other, trembling figures descended then huddled together like sheep in a pen, frozen in place as their eyes zoomed all around them in a frantic manner.

"Line up!" the servant neared them and shouted. 

Straight away, they scurried and assembled into a horizontal line, facing Silas. Sharp Gasps escaped a number of them the instant they'd caught a glimpse of the vampire.

"Listen closely!" the servant bellowed, "From now on, and for the ten days to come, this!" he pointed at the manor behind himself, "Is going to be your home. Think well before you do anything foolish. Your foolishness is what landed you here in the first place," he paused momentarily as he walked along the line, "We are hundreds of miles away from Lustris, if you think you have any chance at survival on your own out there, think again! You'll be dead before the next sunrise," he approached and leaned very close towards the face of a young woman that had started to whimper, "And quit your moaning!" he groaned, "All of you have brought this fate upon yourselves! You've got no one else to blame for your actions!" he pointed at all of them.

When Silas too slowly marched along the line, none of the shaky and teary-eyed prisoners dared raise their heads in front of him, only slightly recoiling away the closer he came while doing their best to remain in line.

Even those with the tamest heart rates and composed demeanors refused to look him in the eyes. 

Though he mostly glared at their tightly bound wrists as blood trickled down their filthy hands, no doubt resulting from the incessant friction between the rough ropes and their bare skin. 

"Exactly fifty captives, Master! They're all here!" said the servant in a much more cordial tone. 

"Lead them inside," Silas addressed no one in particular, "The maids will take care of the rest," 

The servant knew what to do and thus not so kindly guided the people as he was ordered to.

Silas watched until the last of them disappeared through the door then turned to walk away. His feet were given free reign to roam, ending their journey on one of the balconies facing the gardens. From where he stood, the hedges, the trees, big and small as well as the flower beds and the fountains, all were visible, so full of life and colors under the warm spring sun. 

Such was the way of life in Solis Aevum, freezing cold nights hounded away by the very first rays to breach the horizon. 

Among the hedges stood the familiar figure of Edgar. The young man trimmed the rebellious strands of branches that stuck out of order and after only a minute, a second figure joined him out there, that of a joyous looking woman. 

Even though elegant, it was clear that Arabella was the kind to prioritize comfort over style. The manner in which that blue gown wrapping her flowed freely to the ground added much to her fairness, earning her the illusion of floating whenever she quickened the pace. 

Silas noted that the colors had returned to her cheeks since his feeding and with hawk eyes he tracked her every move until she stopped near Edgar. 

"Morning, Edgar," Arabella simpered, hands down, clasped together.

"Oh! Morning, Miss Arabella. I am delighted to see you came back," Edgar stopped working and bowed lightly before her.

"Please, just Arabella," 

"I am afraid you're asking too much of me, Miss," he said.

"Promise me you'll try," she chirped. 

"Well, there's no harm in trying, I suppose," Edgar turned back to his hedges.

Arabella looked down where she twiddled her fingers, "I… Came by the gardens yesterday but couldn't find you. Was something the matter?" through a few stutters she managed to ask.

"Oh! No. My apologies for causing you to fret. I should have told you the other day that I get one free day to myself per week, and I prefer to spend it on my own," he stopped working again.

"Oh, no please, forgive me. I didn't mean to pry," she apologized profusely, shaking her head from left to right then, seeing the look on Edgar's face, hurriedly sought to switch topics, "Do you work out here alone? Do you require any assistance?" 

Gardening? Would that be one of her interests? Silas thought.

Arabella hadn't cited gardening as one of her occupations or passions. Then again, she hadn't mentioned her fascination with history until Silas had specifically inquired about it. 

"Thank you, Miss," Edgar smiled sweetly, "I very much appreciate your kindness, but worry not. I've got everything under control," 

When Arabella mirrored his beam, Silas tilted his head a little to the side, very faintly. His diamond eyes studied every gesture, every word, every reaction the two humans exchanged with much precision down to the twitching of their facial muscles and heartbeats.

"To be completely frank with you, I only asked because I wanted to try…," Arabella trailed off before sheepishly adding, "My mother always found her way to the garden even when she wasn't supposed to. She knew how to take such good care of it too. I thought…," she trailed off again with quite the hushed tone near the end, her smile dimming down the further into her sentence she went.

"Oh… Then perhaps you can… Help me water the flower beds," Edgar had half asked, half suggested.

For a brief moment, Silas wondered about Arabella's mother. A picture of a young woman bearing a lot of resemblance with Arabella flashed behind his eyes. From the way she talked about her, one would think her mother was no longer of their world, but Arabella did flee her home, and Silas hadn't asked many questions, trusting Lady Persephone's judgement. 

When Silas finally looked back at them, Arabella had already picked a small watering can in hand and began to follow Edgar towards the flower beds with a bright smile on her face. 

Without wasting a second or understanding why, Silas rushed from the balcony down to the gardens, cutting their way to stop right in front of them in a sudden manner. 

Arabella's flinch was much more noticeable than Edgar's who had immediately regained his composure and bowed before his Master. 

It took Arabella a few additional seconds to do the same. Although her smile never returned the same as she merely grimaced to mimic one the moment Silas had appeared. 

Silas glared at Edgar until the young man took the hint, bowed a second time then excused himself, leaving Arabella behind. 

"Come closer," he demanded in a cold tone.

She quietly took a few steps towards him but kept her head down the whole time, fiddling with the handle of the watering can.

From the skirt of her gown up to the bust which nicely emphasized her generous breasts, the golden locket resting at the center of her cleavage only complemented the view. 

His eyes then moved on to the raven hair that fell from each side of her face, tucking her ears beneath it. The color contrasted well with the pink blush painting her cheeks. 

"Eyes up," he ordered.

Eyebrows slightly raised and mouth a little agape, Arabella lifted her eyes as he'd asked, earning her a look of both curiosity and apprehension, but she could only withstand his gaze for seconds. 

"Show me your wrist," he uttered yet another order. 

Once again, she did as told and showed him the all-healed wrist he'd fed upon the previous night.

Silas took a deep breath before exhaling, seemingly satisfied, his eyes following the glistening gemstones in hers that darted from left to right, making sure not to cross his face.

"I assume Ada has passed the message to you. You are to meet my mother this evening in the lounge room,"

"Yes, she did," she muttered with a little nod. 

Arabella then drew a sharp breath as though preparing to speak again, but not a whisper came out which seemed to irk Silas as he clenched his fists.

"She will be assessing your skills, from what I understand," 

Just like he had briskly appeared before her, he then disappeared after those words, leaving nothing but a cold breeze in his wake.