Abused and Bought

Meeting the Mother

Sweat practically dripped from Hunter's hands as he wiped them once again against his black pants. Drawing a breath into his lungs, they quivered as he exhaled. The large buildings passed in blurs, the roads smooth with the pavement. 

"Grace, are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked, twisting his head towards his beloved, who was staring out the window. "Shouldn't we have a servant deliver the casket?" 

Turning towards him, she shook her head. "It would be best if we sent it together, in person."

With a swallow, he gathered her in his arms, stroking her shoulder. His lips brushed her temple as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Grace, I've never really traveled outside of our home, and the only time I do is after I've killed a Lord's daughter. I'm nervous." 

Another nod. "As you should be, but do not let them see it." Taking his cheeks in her hands, she lifted his head slightly. "Hold your head up, keep your chin level and your eyes straight. Everything will be okay." 

With a nod, he took her hands in his, squeezing them softly. His lips tilted into a soft smile. "I'm so glad you're my beloved Grace."

A smile slipped onto her face. The car began to roll to a stop as she pressed her lips against his cheek softly.

"Remember, keep your chin up and your eyes straight. Ignore the glares, speak to the Lord and his Lady, and deliver the casket. We will be out of there in no time."

With a nod, he tilted his chin too high, seeming set on stepping from the car like that until Grace tilted down his chin. "Not too high."

Before he could respond, the door clicked open, daylight spilling onto the black leather of the limo. Humans and supernaturals conversed beyond the door. Nearby was a grand church, the pinnacles high and the points scratching at the blue sky. Hunter swallowed hard. Grace tapped his shoulder.

"Remember, be brave."

Nodding his head, he slipped from the car, twisting back to offer his hand to Grace. She took it, sliding from the leather. Her grey and black dress rippled around her knees, the black slippers snug on her feet. With a squeeze, Hunter turned to the large truck behind them, two human workers hopping from the cab, making their way toward the couple. The grounds had gone silent, the funeral-goers all staring at the newer attendants. Grace gave Hunter's hand another comforting squeeze. 

One of the workers spoke, his dyed white hair turning silver in the daylight. "Sir, how will we get the casket out? It's very bulky." 

Hunter parted his lips to speak, however, a low, smooth voice replaced his. "Don't worry about that."

Everyone turned. Lord Maximus strolled over, his polished shoes silent against the grass. His clothing was crisp and black, a red tie around his neck. Hanging from his shoulders was a black suit jacket, the sleeves flapping noiselessly in the wind he made. His brown hair had been slicked back, a few small hairs tickling his forehead. Resting on his brow was a golden crown, intricate designs around the whole, with Australian rhinestones flickering with each pass of the light.

He spoke again. "My men will take care of the casket." At the mention, he nodded his head behind the workers. They turned to see two bulking vampiric men hoisting the casket over their shoulders, walking towards the church. The other worker, his hair a glistening golden color, sputtered at the sight, seemingly shocked. Lord Maximus pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket, placing it in the golden-haired worker's hands. "For your troubles." 

Again, the golden-haired worker sputtered, his friend grabbing his arm with a 'thank you'. As he dragged his sputtering coworker away, the Lord turned to Hunter and Grace. "I am glad you two could make it." 

Nodding, Hunter reached out his hand. "Thank you for inviting us, and I wish we could have met on better terms." 

The Lord took it, giving a quick shake before he reached his hand out to Grace. "I too. But we should make the most of this meeting." 

Grace shook his hand firmly, as she remembered Ryan explaining years ago how to have a proper handshake. "I agree with both of you." 

Lord Maximus smiled, turning away from the couple and flicking his hand. "Why don't you two stay a little longer before you leave? Come meet my wife." His head twisted back toward them. "I believe she is getting rather impatient." 

A small bow bent Hunter's neck. "I don't--" Grace tapped his arm.

"They are watching. We must not seem like cowards." She signed with small gestures, adjacent to whispering.

Flicking his eyes towards the party, his lips went dry at the murderous stares, all aimed at his head. With a deep breath, he squeezed her hand, nodding. "Of course, Lord Maximus. Lead the way."

A smile quirked up Lord Maximus's lips, beginning to walk toward the church. Hunter and Grace followed, their backs straight and eyes forward. 

"Lord Maximus!" A voice called from the crowd. A middle-aged man stumbled from the crowd, his face red with anger. His body was the shape of a pear, a black and white suit over his skin. The leftover salt and pepper hairs of his head were combed to the side, his balding dome peeking through them. "You let the murderer onto these holy grounds?!" He stormed over, grinding his teeth. "He is the whole reason behind Lady Genevive's funeral, and you welcome him like an old friend?!"

Lord Maximus's steps paused, his coat rippling as he turned toward the man. "I invited him myself." His voice turned dangerously low. "Was that wrong?" 

If the man had heard the change, he gave no sign, instead, continued to complain. "Even his wretched beloved! She probably helped him plan the whole thing!" He snarled, pointing a meaty finger. "The nasty whore killed--"

Hunter snarled, his fangs growing long. His eyes swirled silver. Grace grabbed his arm. "How dare you--" 

"Enough." 

All eyes turned toward the new voice, a smooth, womanly tone, brisk, and short. A long, black dress ghosted over the lush greenery of the lawn, the silk flashing to white in the morning sun. Her hips swayed with the smoothness of ocean waves. The long, curly locks of dark cinnamon hair were pinned in a stylish bun, smaller strands framing her oval face. 

"M-My," The old man stammered, stumbling back. "My Lady." 

Lord Maximus crossed the small distance to the woman, wrapping his arm around her waist. "My queen." He said, sweeping his hand toward Hunter and Grace. "These are the deliverers of our daughter's casket." He swept his hand back toward the woman in his arm. "King Hunter, Queen Grace, this is my wife, and Genevive's mother, Lady Rayne."

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HERE IT IS!! I AM SO GLAD I GOT THIS CHAPTER DONE ITS BEEN REALLY HARD WRITING RECENTLY SO IM SUPER GLAD I GOT THIS DONE! IT IS NOW ALMOST 10:30 pm WHERE I AM SO I AM OFF TO BED, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!