In the wake of her grandmother's death, Ava returns to Mystic Falls, a town her family had fled when she was young to escape demons hiding in the dark.
With her return, more strange disappearances and deaths spring up. Slowly her nightmares turn to...
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England 1492,
Strums of lute and quiet singing could be heard as she stepped into the small ballroom. The air was thick with spiced ale and roasted meats that laid on the stretched out wide carved tables. Men and women dressed in their finest walked past her, arm in arm with some taking to the dance floor.
She patted the skirt of her burgundy dress which was honestly more black than red and took a few careful steps through the crowd. A pause and a hush followed her entrance as the guests of the Lord of the manor looked at her in curiosity.
"Countess Carmela."
With grace, she turned to greet the addressor with a polite and relieved smile. "Lady Margaret."
A lady with striking pale blue eyes and dark hair, curtsied in greeting. A married woman in similar stature dressed in a vibrant green and silver gown. Another countess. Behind her was another lady, almost hiding, a younger barely a woman.
"It is good to see you join us for these festivities," Margaret carried on. "Now that the mourning period is over for the late Earl of Huntingdon."
Scandalized, Carmela covered her face with her sleeves. "You mustn't say those things, my lady. The Earl was my husband. I shan't have you slander him like that." She said with a light tone. The smile was evident in her voice but the sleeve covering her face gave nothing away.
"Yes, of course. My condolences for your loss." Lady Margaret giggled and Carmela laughed. "So I suppose you have been busy sorting out the Earldom. I can't imagine how hard that must be. Now if it was my husband, his family would have shown me the door."
"You jest." Carmela dropped her hand. "I'm sure you'd take care of your matters before the time comes."
"I pray to God I shall." Margaret sighed. "You've got an heir at least who's come of age."
"My husband had an heir, not me." She was quick to correct.
"Is the young soon-to-be Earl not your son?"
"He takes more after his father than I." Lady Carmela replied, a slight hint of disappointment leaking through in her voice and perhaps even loneliness. "But it is good that he is more of my husband's child than mine."
Margaret nodded. She turned to the brunette lady behind her and looked back at Carmela. There she went again, talking all cryptically. It was a miracle that neither her father's or husband's family had sent her away for her strangeness. Yet, Margaret dared not say any of her thoughts out loud.
But Carmela already knew exactly what Margaret was thinking. She always knew.
"Still it is good that he is old enough to take charge without much of your assistance. My son is far too young to even be considered a proper heir."
