Chapter 35 - Ingrained in Her Heart Part 1

Dawn came the next day. Ysabelle woke up with a tired feeling. She cleared her eyes, rubbing it gently, and then sat up. She was in a moment of disorientation then.

Where are the candle lamps? The transparent drapes? Where are the rose petals on the floor?

Scanning the room thoroughly, she finally realized she was now back in her bedroom... in reality.

Somehow, the truth pricked her heart. If given a chance, she would have never wanted to wake up again. She would have wanted to stay in that dream world, where the warmth is... where Marcus is...

But, a dream is always a dream, and every dream has an ending -- waking up now in her bedroom is her own end.

It left a hole in her heart.

‘What a night, ’ she said to herself, and then released a long, deep sigh, curling herself and putting her forehead against her knees. ‘What a dream.’

She reminisced the scenes of the dream she had with Father Marcus.

Everything... down to the last when she slept near his chest.

‘Oh, God. I would give anything to feel his warmth again, ’ she thought, then tears briefly spilled from her eyes.

“No, please stop!” Ysabelle shouted to herself and rubbed the salty liquid away with the bed linen. “I must stop this nonsense infatuation about a dream.”

She pulled herself up and stood at the edge of the bed, confidence radiating gradually.

Her eyes unintentionally fell on a chair at the foot of the bed. It was the same as yesterday morning, in its exact weird position. On that basis, she now believed that someone really was inside her room last night.

Chills crept down her spine just thinking about it, but knowing that she hadn’t had enough proof, there was no way she could report it to the castle security office.

Praying herself to be strong, she shrugged the problem away for the time being and strolled inside her bathroom.

The exhaustion she was feeling she had deemed it because of the activity she had with the students yesterday in the garden. She never connected it with anything else. However, when she entered her bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, that’s when her eyes widened and she froze.

The reflection showed red small blots around her neck and chest, similar to an ant bite but a lot bigger in circumference. In its entirety, it actually looked like...

“Kiss marks...” Ysabelle’s mouth dropped, a feeling of heat climbed quickly up to her spine.

‘Oh, God!’

Returning to the memories of her dream last night, Marcus did gave her some in the same spots.

“No...” she murmured in disbelief covering her mouth, “but...how?”

Feeling uneasy and breathless, she paced along the sink fanning herself with her palm and stopped, and paced again and stopped. Every pause she leaned forward towards the mirror to see if the kiss marks were in fact real.

And goodness, they were very real.

Her mind reeled with a lot of questions.

If last night wasn’t a dream at all, then how? How were they both in that kind of place? How was it they both thought the whole time that it was just a dream? Moreover, Marcus and her...

“Oh, God... Oh, God!”

Ysabelle paced again, shaking her head thoroughly.

They made love! God, they did! And this exactly explains her feeling of exhaustion!

Is this just her imagination or is this really real?

Her hands trembled. Stalking out of the bathroom, she sat down at the foot of the bed and embraced herself.

‘No...’ she uttered, trying to resist believing the pieces of evidence.

Eyeing the main door, there was only one way to find out if she wasn’t hallucinating. She wanted answers badly, and Father Marcus was the only one who can give it. So, although she felt the hesitation at first, she finally decided to pay him a visit.

***

‘Room 212’

It read when Ysabelle stood up in front of Marcus’ door an hour after her breakdown. She was fresh from a bath, having her hair damp, and wore clean clothes mainly a sundress, a wool jacket, and a red scarf to cover her neck.

She waited after a round of knocks but somehow, Father Marcus didn’t answer it.

“Fa-father Marcus?” she called out nervously, but after another full minute, the door didn’t open. Ysabelle thought that maybe a change of tac would be better, so even if she was uncomfortable with wording it, her mouth effortlessly flowed the name out.

“Marcus... please... open the door. I need to talk to you.”

But unfortunately, still, he didn’t answer. That’s when she realized that he may have left the room already.

***

Ourech, Czech Republic

West District

House of Doubrava

A thick door opened and in stepped an old, bald man with his cane supporting his weight. He was wearing formal wear, complete with a striped necktie and coat. He strolled inside, looking at his visitor who was sitting on the leather sofa with his back to him.

“This is an unexpected surprise. You, a Vatican priest, in my house. What brings you here Father?” the bald man stated with distaste, holding his cane in front of him whilst standing in a solo sofa opposite the man who lifted up his face.

They were in a study room, dominated by an air of male authority. The walls and shelves were painted dark brown, the sofas inheriting the same shade. There was a fireplace in the center and it provided a balancing warmth of the coldness of the room.

“The name’s ‘H’, Earl Doubrava, ” Marcus stated, smirking at the old man with clever emphasis, “it has been...awhile, yes?”

The eyes of the Earl enlarged, then his scowl that was evident awhile ago vanished. Sweat gathered quickly on his nape and the way he held the head of the cane tightened.

“Pri—nce...Ha—ie—n?!” he stuttered. “You... you?”

“Yes, I did, ” H smirked some more and leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees. This made the Earl sit obediently like a puppy in front of its master.

“Don’t I look good in this form? Very fitting isn’t it? A demon inside a priest, ” the impostor added.

“The exorcist priest was able to house you? How?” Earl Doubrava queried, badly wanting to know the truth.

H’s brows flinched in this disappointment. Damn... even he didn’t know the answer to that.

“You tell me, ” he replied after licking his lips, “This priest somehow has strong blood running in his veins. I can’t pinpoint it, but I fucking want to know why.”

The Earl’s discomfort lessened and his curiosity heightened. He looked at the hands of the priest and saw the peeking tattoos under the sleeves, but he could still visualize clearly the throbbing pulse along it.

“I—I may need to take samples of his blood if you want some answers.”

“Ah, by all means, get it, ” H shot up his right wrist in between them to which the older man eagerly lifted a finger to signal an awaiting bodyguard in a black tuxedo. He knew already what his master wanted, and it was to call the in-house medical staff to extract blood from the priest.

“Anyway, right now, this is good news. I guess we finally are successful in transferring you to a human body huh?” Earl Doubrava stated, smirking slightly now.

“Indeed, we are.”

“So, our agreement is binding?”

“Hmmm, ” H released a throaty groan and shook his head in amusement. “Earl, you are a man who doesn’t waste time huh?”

“Time doesn’t side a human, my Prince. You know that already.”

“Ah, so that is precisely the reason why you had to go through great lengths on possessing the woman’s immortality.”

“You know that already, ” the Earl replied cautiously. Speaking in tongues with this demon wouldn’t be good, so he might as well get to the point. “So, now, I ask you. Have you taken it from her?”

“Not yet, ” H replied casting his heterochromatic eyes on the floor.

Earl Doubrava clenched his teeth, trying to conceal his amassing disappointment, but his voice gave it away. “What do you want? The right timing? I will give it to you!”

H shot a sharp look on the old man. “Patience, Earl, ” he said, “You know you are not the puppeteer here. I own the stage. I alone decide when I get Ysabelle’s immortality.”

“Tsk, of course, Prince Haien. I understand. But I have to ask. What if the body won’t last long? What if the priest will fight the ownership with you? What about our agreement if that happens?”

The demon released a long sigh. “Question, questions...” He stood up and paced towards the fireplace, putting his hand on the flames like it was nothing.

“This body is strong, I can feel it. The owner however is weak, and that is the advantage of it. I can always control the priest so you don’t have to worry anything at all. You will get what you want old man, in due time.”

“Huh, just don’t let me get to my deathbed before that happens. I want to live forever and Ysabelle’s immortality is the key.”

“Greedy bastard you are, ” H uttered, plastering a devilish grin.

“So says the demon prince of Hell, ” the Earl countered. “Looks like the body is housing you real well huh?”

“It is, and I like it, but I still need nourishment. Any welcome offerings for me, Earl? Since I surfaced, I am yet to enjoy being in the Human Realm.”

They were subtle words, but the old man knew exactly what it meant. A chill crept up his spine thinking of it, but there was nothing that he could do. The demon already demanded it. Anyway, he cared not a thing about the people he sacrificed. Playing the villain was his forte in his brotherhood anyway.

“I do, as many souls as you want, Your Highness, ” he replied with a neutral face.

“Good, ” H wickedly beamed again, “Bring them to me, now.”