𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙴𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 (wlw)

Chapter Eight

“Your name is quite beautiful,” Anastasía said quelling the silence that engulfed them. The woman couldn't tell if her rescuer was genuinely thrilled that she'd learned her name to the point where it led her to become mute or if it were a silent vexation slowly rising to the surface. Either way, the vampire bided the time waiting for a reaction.

Emese's thoughts oscillated in that humble altercation. Unsure of whether to feel betrayed that Tamas did exchange information about her for sweets or impressed that the vampire got him to tell her things, despite the language barrier. Admiration seemed to be what she chose subconsciously for her entire face flushed beneath the candlelight and without her being able to stop it.

The light red that spread across Emese's cheeks was so because the more she replayed the moment in her mind, she doted on the way the vampire spoke her name in that foreign accent. Yes, her name had been spoken by other Asheans but never from the lips of one whose accent and dialect were of an older form. This caused a flutter in her stomach and a kind of flutter she never felt before, one that left her worried something might've broken within her. 

Clearing her throat, she regarded the vampire with a frolicsome guise, which caught the woman completely off guard as she was expecting hostility or disfavour.

“It's not fair that you get to know my name. Albeit, thank you, my lady, for the compliment....” she trailed off.

Offering her a gentle curve at one end of her mouth, Anastasía was aware of the shyness that suddenly consumed her hostess. She thought it was winsome, watching the human find it a bother, her speaking her name.

“Mayhaps you could borrow my approach,” the vampire responded, alluding to the notion that maybe the woman could cajole Tamas with sweets the way she did.

“Or I could simply ask him,” replied Emese, revealing that their game was only a game because she was choosing not to confront her brother.

Before the vampire could respond with another smart-witted answer, the woman with the black headscarf wrapped around her head was gone again from sight. Emese thought she could escape the impish guise etched on Anastasía's face by sauntering away from it but was shocked when the woman followed her into the kitchen. She wanted to speak about her unexpected presence but chose not to.

“May I help?” asked the vampire after a moment or two which evoked strong feelings of perplexity within Emese.

“Help with what, exactly?” she questioned, curious to know what was this side of the stranger. During their first interaction, she was aloof and standoffish. Maybe she had split personalities the brunette thought. Maybe a spirit had possessed her body or maybe she was genuinely interested.

“I'd like to help with whatever you're preparing for supper,” Anastasía shared, her eyes surveying the contents on the table and at the fireside.

There was minced meat, perhaps venison or mutton cooking in a pot with carrots, green beans, and corn and now that she was no longer deep in conversation, she caught the flavourful aroma that swept through the air like an exquisite fragrance. It smelled good, far savoury than the food the humans back at the castle would eat. She knew this because on days when Dorin felt like she needed exposure to cleaner air, he'd have them crack a window open in her cell and that's where she'd get the smell as the servants cooked in their quarter. They were often given lesser quality provisions, she could always tell from the odour in the air.

Upon seeing the way her guest scrutinize everything, Emese asked. “Do you know how to cook?”

“No,” the woman answered unabashedly. “Vampires don't consume human food so, we don't have a reason to learn how to cook, however, some might know out of curiosity or wanting to provide a sense of normalcy to humans in their wake. Some turned vampires would have learned when they were human.”