Valetta and I discussed many things
over the weeks of travel. Not just dream lives and randomness. We discussed her
previous life, and mine, exploring our differences until it seemed we had known
each other forever.
She had been born to a nouveau riche
family—they previously hadn’t been extremely poor, but even with their newfound
wealth, they weren’t in the same class as the lords and ladies. Her parents had
expected her to jettison them to the next level, and provided whatever they
felt was needed. They desired a progressive man in hopes he would be more open
to marrying a nouveau riche maiden than the more conservative families. When
she was old enough to court, suitors came and left. It wasn’t her fault; they
weren’t prepared for someone like her, so well rounded and confident. But she
didn’t know that then. She felt she had failed her family and—when the suitors
stopped appearing—Valetta cried herself to sleep. Her parents’ relationship
spoiled and her mother ended up murdering her father, insisting the devil
possessed him. Her mother was imprisoned and Valetta was left in the care of
family, her fortune then her uncle’s. Shortly after that, the house was
attacked by vampires. They killed everyone in the house—all of her cousins,
uncle, aunt, and her uncle’s mistress—except for her.
“I sat waiting in my room, the
raucous they had stirred downstairs woke me. It may sound strange, but I was
not afraid of them. For me, it was an opportunity to be embraced, not turned away,”
she explained, and I knew what she meant, having felt the same not long ago. “When
he came in, his eyes red and luminescent, I could not help but stare. As he
approached, I opened my arms to him, and asked him to take me, to end my pain.”
Valetta’s eyes filled with tears at the memory. She swallowed them back,
pushing on; “He circled, and I questioned why he hesitated. It was a moment
before his eyes dulled to a pale orange; he inquired why I would not scream or
cry. For emphasis, he lurched forward, fangs bared, eyes flaring red, hissing
at me. When I did not flinch, he questioned if I wanted to be born again. I did
not realize he meant become one of them. All I knew was the life I had worked
for failed, and I was out of options. I would not receive my family’s fortune. I
would not marry any man who would change me. I was trapped by expectations
dooming me for misery.”
“What made you decide?” I questioned.
Her dark eyes swept toward me,
longing for understanding. “Hope.”
In her eyes I could see the scene
playing out, in all of its magnanimous tragedy.
Her dark hair flowed around her, billowing gently in the breeze admitted
from the opened window; she wore a white nightgown, surrounded by dark sheets
and pillows. Her stalker stood, entangled in the white curtains, clad
consummately in black. As she stared at him—waiting for him to give her
rebirth—he stood, ensuring she meant what she said.
He lunged forward, a hand jerking her head to the side, the other
wrapping her arm in a death grip. Her eyes expanded as his teeth sank in, but
then she closed them, relaxing in his arms, trusting him to deliver her to something
better. Shortly after she went limp, he pulled away and swept her into his
arms, leaving.
“Is it what you hoped for?” I asked,
softly, unsure if I should be happy for her or sad.
Valetta took a moment to recover her
senses. “It is not what I thought he offered, but it has allowed me to meet
many incredible people, and to see none of my life was my fault. I played my
role dutifully—always the obedient daughter. Their deaths, her imprisonment, my
lack of a steady suitor—I was helpless to control it. If he had never given me
this choice, I never would have come to realize this. I never would have met
Drei, or made your acquaintance.” A soft smile lit her features as she added,
“I felt betrayed the first hundred years, but now I see what a gift this can
be. You just have to be willing to embrace the positive and allow the negative
to fall by the wayside.”
Silence followed afterwards, and, as
I let her memory replay in my mind; I felt tears start to roll down my cheeks. Her
pain alone was enough to make me forget any of my own.
“Do not cry for me,” Valetta said,
watching as I wiped away some of the tears, “because I do not cry for myself.”
“But you do cry,” I said, certain I
hadn’t imagined the tears that had filled her eyes.
“Not for myself,” she insisted. “I
cry for the people helpless to change their situations, and unaware it may not
be their fault. After all, I am the lucky one.”
For her to have gone through so much
seemed incredible, and I wondered how she managed to survive it all. How had
she held out? But I couldn’t ask. It would seem too much like asking what my
future was, or what someone had wished. She had figured it out on her own. Now it
was my turn. Even if I wasn’t sure where to begin.
“Drei helped me,” Valetta said
softly. “If you speak with him, he could help you as well. It would make a good
start.”
“How do you do that?” I asked, hating
how both of them always seemed know what I was thinking.
“When you wish to know something
deeply enough,” she said, smiling, “you send it out without realizing it. Drei
and I learned long ago—from Gloria, mostly—how to read those signals.”
I nodded; it made enough sense for
me, considering two years ago I believed vampires belonged in the fiction
aisle. Mostly, I figured any further explanation would wind up more confusing.
“It is time.” She was right. There
was only so long I could avoid speaking with Drei, and there would probably
never be a good time.
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