Page 61 of Muerte
I was tempted to dump them both in the sink or trash compactor. The foreknowledge of cameras stopped me from doing either. I stared at the glass with a frown. He had come inside me multiple times, enough that I’d lost count.
If these smoothies did what Esther and he claimed they did, I was soon to have a major problem on my hands. That would be the absolute last thing I needed. But I didn’t know how to stop it from happening.
With a deep breath, I took both pills and drank the smoothie. Alexander could easily review the camera footage to confirm if I had taken them. My attention shifted to Nicolette, who was in close proximity. I observed her carefully, trying to discern any sign of discomfort or pain.
Her composure remained steadfast, still revealing nothing. Color me doubly impressed. Walking in on her being hit had been difficult to witness. Worse was the fact that I was more concerned about Alexander being intimate with another woman—even if by force—than the pain inflicted upon her.
The realization hit me like a wave, a sobering and unsettling self-reflection. In the mere days since my arrival, I had started to confront truths about myself, truths that I'd rather have kept buried. There was a part of me I wasn't proud of.
It seemed to be slowly unraveling, revealing desires and facets of my personality I had never acknowledged. Just like that moment in the bathroom, where I had been forced to confront the raw and unfiltered reality of my situation.
Esther's voice broke through my somber reverie, drawing my attention back to the present. She outlined the plans for the day, mentioning a ride into town with Isaac, a Tenebrarius from her father's circle. His name rung as familiar. He’d been present the night of the soup incident.
The idea of exploring the town had intrigued me since Alexander had mentioned it. It would give me a glimpse into the world beyond the walls of this enigmatic mansion and a chance to get a better idea of the Isle’s layout.
"What about Alexander?" I inquired.
Her face lit up in a way that indicated a misinterpretation of my question.
“He will be working most of the day but informed me he’d be retrieving you from the Chapel.”
Now that she mentioned it, that had been on my daily schedule. On alternate days, I would be escorted to Stygian Chapel to be further educated in my role, responsibilities, and learn all about the Isle's devout society.
There were a dozen other things I’d rather do, but I deigned to keep any protests to myself until I could see if this was something that would help me in the future.
The ride to town didn’t do any good for my resolve.
From what I gathered after explanations from Esther and Nicolette, the Isle’s geography was a strategic masterpiece, designed not just for opulence but for the preservation of its clandestine traditions.
One end of the Isle belonged to the Diabolus Estate, Alexander’s private fortress. I already knew it was a sprawling property, sheltered by thickets of dark woods and cliffs that rose up and plunged into the lake, largely cut off and symbolizing Alexander's desire for dominion and discretion.
On a different edge of the Isle were the homes of the Magistri Tenebrarum. Esther explained that these grand residences belonged to those that aided Alexander, the equivalent of right-hand men with their own level of power and privacy. Her parents had their own sector.
That information was enough for me to glean that the Isle as a whole didn’t seem to have many weak entry or exit points.
We were dropped off at the edge of the town. I took a moment to absorb the scene. It was bustling with activity, the air filled with the sounds and energy of a vibrant community. As we stood there, it became apparent that we were just another part of the scenery. No one paid us any attention, each caught up in their own routines. It was a refreshing anonymity, allowing me to observe without intrusion.
“Come on.” Esther nudged me forward, her familiarity with the place evident as she navigated through the streets as my tour guide. It quickly became clear who were tourists and who were locals. All the natives dressed in similar clothing to mine, making them easy to pick out, and the tourists? Well, they dressed as I once would have.
Nicolette noticed me taking them all in and nodded as if answering a silent question. “The women of lower station show wear colors that don’t sand out, representing modesty, humility, and simplicity.”
My brows rose, and I slowed as Esther moved closer so two women wearing taupe could pass.
“Huh,” I hummed. I couldn’t recall seeing anything close to that shade inside the closet. It seemed whoever had established their way of life had truly thought of everything.
We continued walking. Esther and Nicolette alternated in their explanations, pointing out various stores and happily giving me more information about the Isle. The town was a beautiful amalgamation of gothic old-world charm and contemporary flair.
Benches and ornate streetlamps lined the streets. Every shop was in pristine condition. There were far too many for me to remember the names of, but I absorbed as much information as I could, funneling it away for later.
The more I heard, the better my understanding became.
Stygian Isle was a world all its own.
I knew from the night I was branded that beyond the town were roads that split off and went elsewhere, one being their sacred Chapel.
Alexander had meat delivered from a butcher. The fertility concoction was crafted from things grown here. That meant an area of the Isle was sequestered for agricultural purposes, which required land. As did the different areas of housing.
If none of that was enough to convince me this place was even larger than I thought, what I saw with my own two eyes did.