In the Name of Justice: Chapter IV
Rosalie's name is short for Rosenstrauss, which means 'Bouquet of Roses'. This chapter's title is part of the Romanian (?) dialogue at the end of Mayutsuki no Hitsugi.
Chapter IV
Good Evening, Shall We Dance?
The night was dry, having been deprived of the rain that was so common for this time of year, yet that was how Justice liked it: wet ground was a liability that masked scents, making tracking an almost impossible task. The grass, drained of moisture by the season’s winds, crackled slightly beneath his feet as he made his way along the side of the path.
There were horse tracks imprinted in the dirt, and though it was difficult for him to tell exactly, they seemed fresh, perhaps half an hour old at the most. He knew from his own travels that this track lead on for several more miles, which meant that, providing they remained at the same pace and didn’t stray from the path, there was a high probability that the horse and its owner were still within reach. Holding this fact in mind, Justice lowered his head and broke into a sprint.
It was far sooner than he’d anticipated when the first spot of light came into view. At first, it was a mere glow that his eyes strained to pick up, but as he neared, two figures became visible. One was, indeed, what looked like a man on a horse, whilst the other accompanied him on foot, bearing a lantern as he walked. The sight was not a rare one in Marthiel, where it was common practice for those of higher class to empty bodyguards when moving between towns or regions. However, it seemed a little obscure for the transfer to take place at such an hour - Justice could only deduce that the journey was of a lot of importance.
Unfortunately, though, neither would make their destination.
With a silence that came all but naturally to him, Justice stepped onto the path. The hunger in his throat, a deep yearning for blood, urged him to sprint through the last hundred metres or so and end it in seconds, but he’d learned over the years that stealth was the most effective hunting method; not only that, but his skin still stung where his clothes brushed against it, and so he found himself timing his movements very carefully in order to cause as little discomfort as possible.
They were so near now that Justice could have reached out and touched the hind legs of the horse. The circle of light cast by the lantern fell short, allowing him to remain hidden in the darkness, although a simple backwards turn of either head would’ve been more than enough for the men to notice something out of place.
Carefully, he pulled a small dagger from somewhere within his clothing and held it poised in his right hand; his fingers were taut around the metal, as if already anticipating the moment when it would plunge into warm flesh. Feelings of guilt conflicted a racing excitement that never failed to arise at times like this, and for a moment, he allowed himself to forget that what he was committing was murder - that thought was a mere droplet pushed to the bottom of a sea of torrid, snarling waters.
And then, he sprang.
---
The woman all in white sighed and closed her eyes, letting her body find a position over the banister where it was balanced in absolute equilibrium. Beneath her, the stairway bent twice and ended in a floor which appeared to be empty as of present. The silence surprised her. Despite the late hour, one could usually find servants passing through the corridors on night shifts, though it seemed that she was the only one in the room. However, she preferred it that way - quiet was something that she still valued after almost two years of living in a castle where loud noises were as rare as snowfall in summer.
It was hardly surprising, though: the vampires she lived with were slow, peaceful creatures, quite unlike the images conjured up by books and tales. No, the vampires she’d met had treated her like any courteous individual would, and in the time she’d spent here, her fear of the beings had subsided to a level where it was now normal for her to converse with them on a daily basis. They were, in fact, not much different from humans, aside from the minor changes in their eye colours that came and went depending on their moods, but that no longer fazed her.
Nevertheless, that wasn’t to say she was unaware of their personal lives, their business behind the formalities that serving under the king involved. A small part of her remained cautious and painfully aware that the majority of the people around here were murderers who killed on a regular basis.
It was a frightening fact, yet one she was increasingly coming to terms to.
All of a sudden, she was detached from her thoughts as something encircled her waist and pulled her upright. Her back met something warm, but instead of making an attempt to break away, she allowed herself to relax. The familiarity of the arms holding her, the soft material against her skin, calmed her mind and pushed anything unpleasant she had been feeling to a place where they could not be heard.
“I didn’t hear you coming,” she whispered with a smile.
There was silence for a few minutes before the figure brought forth words. “Tell me about your day.”
A soft laugh escaped the woman’s lips. “Why the sudden interest, Your Highness?”
There came no reply.
“Well, I began by taking a walk around the garden with one of the servants,” she started, unsure of where this was leading, “Then I returned and helped prepare lunch, and spent the remainder of the afternoon reading. It wasn’t anything too-”
Her words trailed off as one of the hands on her waist slowly slid down and spread over her hip.
“And then what?”
The woman shook her head, unable to reply. She knew it was rude to refuse the king an answer, though she doubted very much he was actually expecting one. It was rare that he paid any concern towards her personal life beyond the odd question; it wasn’t that he didn’t care for it - he’d always been unobtrusive in character, preferring to make himself known through actions as opposed to words. However, today he seemed to hold an almost forced curiosity, as if he were asking simply to break an unknown tension. Could it be that he was hiding something from her?
No, what was she thinking? Of course, as king, there would be countless things he’d keep to himself, and it was in no way to stretch her curiosity into such matters. Perhaps she would find out in the near future, but until that moment, she would remain quiet and try not to worry herself about it.
Gently, as he taking care not to injure her, Dreizehn spun her around and caught her lips with his own. The two of them fell into place: the woman wrapped her arms round her partner’s neck, whilst the man in turn held her waist with two hands and pulled her into him. They remained locked in silent embrace for a minute, until one was forced to pull away.
The woman’s eyes passed over the face in front, and for a moment she wondered whether she would’ve been able to create something more perfect had she planned it out herself: sky-black hair framed smooth pale skin, a sculpted mouth and dark-rimmed eyes that appeared to glow a dull crimson in the low light. She could only wonder why she, a plain and unarguably very average girl had been chosen by the king of Marthiel to be his bride. Over the past two years, she had grown to love him, and though he was never one to conventionally show it, she knew Dreizehn felt the same towards her.
“Rosalie...” He brushed a strand of pale brown hair from the woman’s face as he said her name, his right hand remaining firmly on the small of her back.
She smiled. “Yes?”
For a moment, Dreizehn’s mouth opened, as if he were going to say something, but he swiftly decided against it; instead, he answered her with another small kiss.
“Are you tired?” His thumb rubbed her cheek gently.
Rosalie shook her head, and, to her surprise, found she was telling the truth: despite the late hour and the lethargy she’d felt before her encounter with the king, she was now awake, and doubted she could’ve fallen asleep if she’d tried.
All of a sudden, the woman felt herself being lifted into the air. It took her a moment to realise that the man was holding her suspended in the air, her knees bent over his right arm and the top of her back supported by his left. At once, her heart set into a fast motion that pulsed through her whole body. Was Dreizehn able to sense it too? Surely he was painfully aware of every drop of blood encircling her veins, yet not once had he ever made any attempt to attack her. Perhaps it was the many years of his existence that had allowed him to build up his self-control, yet it still remained one of the many aspects of the king she admired and feared at the same time.
With a final glance around him, Dreizehn turned with his bride and began to make his way across the corridor, towards the stairs that lay waiting at the other end.
Next Chapter →
Chapter IV
Good Evening, Shall We Dance?
The night was dry, having been deprived of the rain that was so common for this time of year, yet that was how Justice liked it: wet ground was a liability that masked scents, making tracking an almost impossible task. The grass, drained of moisture by the season’s winds, crackled slightly beneath his feet as he made his way along the side of the path.
There were horse tracks imprinted in the dirt, and though it was difficult for him to tell exactly, they seemed fresh, perhaps half an hour old at the most. He knew from his own travels that this track lead on for several more miles, which meant that, providing they remained at the same pace and didn’t stray from the path, there was a high probability that the horse and its owner were still within reach. Holding this fact in mind, Justice lowered his head and broke into a sprint.
It was far sooner than he’d anticipated when the first spot of light came into view. At first, it was a mere glow that his eyes strained to pick up, but as he neared, two figures became visible. One was, indeed, what looked like a man on a horse, whilst the other accompanied him on foot, bearing a lantern as he walked. The sight was not a rare one in Marthiel, where it was common practice for those of higher class to empty bodyguards when moving between towns or regions. However, it seemed a little obscure for the transfer to take place at such an hour - Justice could only deduce that the journey was of a lot of importance.
Unfortunately, though, neither would make their destination.
With a silence that came all but naturally to him, Justice stepped onto the path. The hunger in his throat, a deep yearning for blood, urged him to sprint through the last hundred metres or so and end it in seconds, but he’d learned over the years that stealth was the most effective hunting method; not only that, but his skin still stung where his clothes brushed against it, and so he found himself timing his movements very carefully in order to cause as little discomfort as possible.
They were so near now that Justice could have reached out and touched the hind legs of the horse. The circle of light cast by the lantern fell short, allowing him to remain hidden in the darkness, although a simple backwards turn of either head would’ve been more than enough for the men to notice something out of place.
Carefully, he pulled a small dagger from somewhere within his clothing and held it poised in his right hand; his fingers were taut around the metal, as if already anticipating the moment when it would plunge into warm flesh. Feelings of guilt conflicted a racing excitement that never failed to arise at times like this, and for a moment, he allowed himself to forget that what he was committing was murder - that thought was a mere droplet pushed to the bottom of a sea of torrid, snarling waters.
And then, he sprang.
---
The woman all in white sighed and closed her eyes, letting her body find a position over the banister where it was balanced in absolute equilibrium. Beneath her, the stairway bent twice and ended in a floor which appeared to be empty as of present. The silence surprised her. Despite the late hour, one could usually find servants passing through the corridors on night shifts, though it seemed that she was the only one in the room. However, she preferred it that way - quiet was something that she still valued after almost two years of living in a castle where loud noises were as rare as snowfall in summer.
It was hardly surprising, though: the vampires she lived with were slow, peaceful creatures, quite unlike the images conjured up by books and tales. No, the vampires she’d met had treated her like any courteous individual would, and in the time she’d spent here, her fear of the beings had subsided to a level where it was now normal for her to converse with them on a daily basis. They were, in fact, not much different from humans, aside from the minor changes in their eye colours that came and went depending on their moods, but that no longer fazed her.
Nevertheless, that wasn’t to say she was unaware of their personal lives, their business behind the formalities that serving under the king involved. A small part of her remained cautious and painfully aware that the majority of the people around here were murderers who killed on a regular basis.
It was a frightening fact, yet one she was increasingly coming to terms to.
All of a sudden, she was detached from her thoughts as something encircled her waist and pulled her upright. Her back met something warm, but instead of making an attempt to break away, she allowed herself to relax. The familiarity of the arms holding her, the soft material against her skin, calmed her mind and pushed anything unpleasant she had been feeling to a place where they could not be heard.
“I didn’t hear you coming,” she whispered with a smile.
There was silence for a few minutes before the figure brought forth words. “Tell me about your day.”
A soft laugh escaped the woman’s lips. “Why the sudden interest, Your Highness?”
There came no reply.
“Well, I began by taking a walk around the garden with one of the servants,” she started, unsure of where this was leading, “Then I returned and helped prepare lunch, and spent the remainder of the afternoon reading. It wasn’t anything too-”
Her words trailed off as one of the hands on her waist slowly slid down and spread over her hip.
“And then what?”
The woman shook her head, unable to reply. She knew it was rude to refuse the king an answer, though she doubted very much he was actually expecting one. It was rare that he paid any concern towards her personal life beyond the odd question; it wasn’t that he didn’t care for it - he’d always been unobtrusive in character, preferring to make himself known through actions as opposed to words. However, today he seemed to hold an almost forced curiosity, as if he were asking simply to break an unknown tension. Could it be that he was hiding something from her?
No, what was she thinking? Of course, as king, there would be countless things he’d keep to himself, and it was in no way to stretch her curiosity into such matters. Perhaps she would find out in the near future, but until that moment, she would remain quiet and try not to worry herself about it.
Gently, as he taking care not to injure her, Dreizehn spun her around and caught her lips with his own. The two of them fell into place: the woman wrapped her arms round her partner’s neck, whilst the man in turn held her waist with two hands and pulled her into him. They remained locked in silent embrace for a minute, until one was forced to pull away.
The woman’s eyes passed over the face in front, and for a moment she wondered whether she would’ve been able to create something more perfect had she planned it out herself: sky-black hair framed smooth pale skin, a sculpted mouth and dark-rimmed eyes that appeared to glow a dull crimson in the low light. She could only wonder why she, a plain and unarguably very average girl had been chosen by the king of Marthiel to be his bride. Over the past two years, she had grown to love him, and though he was never one to conventionally show it, she knew Dreizehn felt the same towards her.
“Rosalie...” He brushed a strand of pale brown hair from the woman’s face as he said her name, his right hand remaining firmly on the small of her back.
She smiled. “Yes?”
For a moment, Dreizehn’s mouth opened, as if he were going to say something, but he swiftly decided against it; instead, he answered her with another small kiss.
“Are you tired?” His thumb rubbed her cheek gently.
Rosalie shook her head, and, to her surprise, found she was telling the truth: despite the late hour and the lethargy she’d felt before her encounter with the king, she was now awake, and doubted she could’ve fallen asleep if she’d tried.
All of a sudden, the woman felt herself being lifted into the air. It took her a moment to realise that the man was holding her suspended in the air, her knees bent over his right arm and the top of her back supported by his left. At once, her heart set into a fast motion that pulsed through her whole body. Was Dreizehn able to sense it too? Surely he was painfully aware of every drop of blood encircling her veins, yet not once had he ever made any attempt to attack her. Perhaps it was the many years of his existence that had allowed him to build up his self-control, yet it still remained one of the many aspects of the king she admired and feared at the same time.
With a final glance around him, Dreizehn turned with his bride and began to make his way across the corridor, towards the stairs that lay waiting at the other end.
Next Chapter →