Fran was silent for a moment longer before she cleared her throat and went on. “Yes, as I was saying, unless you are a powerful sorceress, it’s almost impossible to break a spell like Rumple’s on your own.”
“I was afraid of that.” I sighed, closing my eyes against an oncoming headache. I should have known that Rumple wouldn’t make it easy for any of us. “And the loophole?”
The older woman hesitated, her eyes darting to my covered wrist before back to my face. “There is one way to break any spell. True love’s kiss.”
My brows shot up. “True love’s kiss?” I barked a laugh. “People still believe in that kind of stuff?”
Fran smirked. “Don’t you?”
I picked up my glass off the low table and took a small sip. “True love isn’t something I dream of. Common decency is more likely to be what’s in most people’s future if they’re lucky. Pain and heartache, if not.”
“And you?” Fran cocked her head to the side. “What did you dream about?”
I began to tell her about my dreams of coming to the capital, searching for excitement and adventure, and yes even true love. Something stopped me.
Instead, I said, “Dreams are for those who can afford them. It’s been years since I’ve been so rich.”
“And, while it may not be your dream, do you not at least believe in true love?” Fran prodded, her eyes seeing more than I was comfortable with.
I wanted to. The dreamer inside of me wanted to believe in that one person who was meant for you. Except too many years breaking my back with no end in sight made it hard to see past my own pain and suffering.
Even if I did believe, it didn’t matter. Blackthorn didn’t love me. I didn’t love him. Or else that kiss in the gardens would have broken the spell Rumple had over me.
“No,” I murmured, sipping from my glass. “I can’t say that I do.”
Fran didn’t say anything else on the matter. She left me alone with my thoughts after helping me dress for the day in a pale pink dress with a dark purple corset. I didn’t know what was worse: her prodding or my own thoughts.
I spent the day staring out the bedroom window, my fingers stroking over the marks on my wrist. Blackthorn hadn’t made an appearance yet. Part of me was relieved at his absence, while the other half screamed and protested at his lack of attention.
It was a blessing and a curse. The longer I was here, the more I wanted his attention. His presence made me feel... different. Wanted. Protected. Something I hadn’t felt in years. Especially not in the factory.
Eventually it was time for supper, and I couldn’t delay seeing Blackthorn any longer. Fran and I were silent as she dressed me for dinner in a gossamer gown of deep green, leaving my shoulders and neck bare. I didn’t know if she chose this gown on purpose or if it was simply a coincidence.
I couldn’t protest without admitting how I felt about Blackthorn biting me. Something I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I knew how I felt about it.
“You look lovely, mistress,” Fran stated once we reached the dining room door.
I inclined my head. “Thank you.”
Fran hesitated, her face clearly showing she had more to say.
“Yes?”
She turned back to me. “There is no shame in it, you know.”
My brow furrowed. “In what?”
“Enjoying the bite.” Fran bowed and then left giving me no chance to rebuttal.
Apparently, I hadn’t hidden my conflicting emotions as well as I had hoped.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the dining room door open and stepped into what would be the first of many tension-filled dinners.
Blackthorn didn’t mention feeding from me nor did he ask to do it again, even several days later. I didn’t know if I was pleased or annoyed by that fact.
Days passed until, one night, I sat on my side of the bed, brushing my hair while Blackthorn moved around the room getting ready for bed.
“Do you...?” I began and then stopped, pulling my lower lip between my teeth.
