The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1770: Returning Home

Nestled between the River’s Senara and Luath, just to the north of the point where the two rivers met, DuCoumont city sprawled across dozens of minor waterways, both natural and dug by men. Any other time of year, the fastest way to reach her brother’s manor would have been to find a ferry that could take them along the river bank to the manor’s private docks.

In the depths of winter, however, the shallower channels froze over, and even the river bank could become choked with ice, forcing the entire city to slow down and navigate the network of bridges between the city’s various districts.

Hundreds of years ago, when Maleric DuCoumont had established a foothold here for Prince Fulrad Keating, her family’s seat of power had been an imposing stone fortress that sat at the juncture of the two rivers, defending either river bank from demons and Trevarthans alike. Eventually, the fortress had outlived its usefulness, and Maela’s great-grandfather had ordered a new manor built along the banks of the Senara, even though it was technically outside the protection of the city’s walls.

Reaching that manor from the Ferryman’s Cup took more than half an hour, but by the time the carriage approached the towering gates of her family home, Maela found herself wishing the trip had taken three times as long.

She’d demanded that Marcel be forthcoming with her, but nothing could have prepared her for the horrors her daughters had faced since she’d seen them last. Ashlynn had crawled out of her own grave and walked through a rainstorm with nothing but a bedsheet to protect her from the weather until she’d encountered a vampire who took her in.

That alone was enough for her lips to go dry and her spirit to quake, but Marcel had gone further, calmly outlining her battles in a place called the ’High Pass’ against giants and ancient spirits, before he went on to describe her infiltration of the Summer Villa, duels to the death against Owain’s knights, and a constant struggle to master her own growing power.

It was enough to make any mother weep, but Marcel was far from finished illuminating the ways that her daughters had suffered. From the tongues of murdered scapegoats that Jocelynn had been forced to eat to the days of torture in freezing cold dungeons and the weeks of struggling in vain to appease a poison-maddened Marquis, Jocelynn had lost almost as much as her sister had without the slightest sliver of power to protect herself.

"I never should have left Jocey," Maela said as she blotted the tears from her eyes. "If I’d been there..."

"If you’d been there, you’d have landed in a cell beside her," Marcel said, before Maela could take on burdens that weren’t hers to bear. "There’s more, much more, including a cursed throne empowered by the Church’s own sorcery and half a dozen schemes that even I haven’t unraveled yet," Marcel said, shaking his head.

"I don’t put much stock in fate, but I learned long ago to recognize when the deck is so thoroughly stacked against you that losing is inevitable," Marcel said. "If you’d been there, Bors would have found ways to isolate you, likely sending you to the Summer Villa to babysit the imposter Samira in Jocelynn’s place. Neither he nor Owain would have tolerated an intelligent woman challenging them to stand on equal ground."

"At best, you would have reunited with Ashlynn sooner," Marcel concluded. "At worst, you’d have enjoyed a cell next to Jocelynn while Percivus pitted you against each other for his own personal amusement."

"Still, Jocey must hate me for abandoning her..." Maela said, clenching her hands into fists tightly enough that her fingernails formed dark red crescents on her palms. "And Ashlynn... If I’d known she was alive..."

"Don’t," Marcel said, losing all of his playfulness as he looked directly into Maela’s gaze. "If you dwell in all of the ’ifs,’ you’ll only tear yourself in two. It took me a long time to learn to let go of what I could have, should have, or would have done and start focusing on what I could do next. Right now, you can help them both, and your brother. Focus on that."

"You sound like an old man, Mister Marcel," Maela said, looking at the youth who, at most, was a year or two older than her Jocelynn. "But when it comes to your own children, it’s a bit harder to let go of regrets. You’ll see when you have a few of your own," she said.

"I’ll never have any of my own," Marcel said, chuckling lightly as he flashed her a smile that revealed his sharpened fangs. "A vampire’s progeny aren’t the same as having children. My Mistress didn’t take my mother’s place, and as much as I love my nephews and grand-nephews, they still aren’t my children. But I’ve had more than fifty years to think about how I could have saved my brother all those years ago..."

"I couldn’t have," Marcel told the wide-eyed countess. "Against two knights, even if I’d had a blade of my own and I’d been there when it happened, I’d only have joined him in death... Some things aren’t meant to be, your Majesty," he said sadly. "But the things we still have a chance to shape, those are worth all our efforts."

"Why do you think I let your daughter fling me about like her favorite toy?" Marcel said in an attempt to break the tension. "Marcel, fetch me an olive seed that hasn’t been pressed for oil or brined for eating. Marcel, go spy on my ex-husband. Marcel, you just came home, no go run a message to my mother..."

"Your daughter runs me ragged, Your Majesty," Marcel teased. "But she does it because she treasures her family. If I can help her hang onto her family through everything that’s about to happen... I don’t mind if she works me like an ox with a plow and a cart."

"I’m beginning to understand why she sent you, Mister Marcel," Maela said as she blotted the tears from her eyes. "Tell me," she asked, swallowing heavily as she prepared to ask a question the likes of which she’d never dreamed would escape her lips. "Are all vampires like you? Are you all this thoughtful and composed?"

"You’ll find out for yourself soon enough," Marcel said with a teasing smile as he mimed placing a lock over his lips. "For now, it looks like we’ve arrived..."