Under the vampire Lord's protection Chapter 613: Only silence

The sun had not fully vanished by the time the burial commenced. They merely awaited its descent behind the hills, permitting the vampires to participate.

Though uncommon, the tradition was evolving since many lords conducted affairs with vampires, prompting funerals to occur after sunset regardless.

Arabella greeted numerous guests with handshakes, noting their names and titles as offered, without pondering their connections to her father.

Unsurprisingly, no fewer than four women arrived veiled completely, concealing their faces.

Silas remained glued to Arabella’s side en route to the burial site. Though she bore her own weight steadily, she occasionally leaned on him for aid.

As everyone gathered around the pit destined to hold Reubon eternally, the officiant began his address, which all appeared to heed or feign interest in.

Gazes fixed upon the wooden coffin, soon to lower and vanish from sight forever.

The wind animating the area howled fiercer than the night before.

Arabella observed her mourning gown's hem dancing to that harsh melody, while the officiant's words droned faintly in her mind.

She alone among few ventured to glance upward, spotting Persephone linked arm-in-arm with Edgar, Katherine clinging to Allegra, and Grace unwilling to release Arthur.

Rubius positioned himself near Arthur without crowding, the other guests arrayed behind him.

Some bore resemblances to her and her brother, like the distinctive emerald eyes passed through Sterling generations. No doubt, distant kin she'd never encountered.

Most strikingly absent, as typical at funerals, were tears.

Not one person—man, woman, or child—shed even a drop for Reubon Sterling.

If anything, it comforted her to confirm she wasn't mad in deeming her father... unlikeable, to say the least.

Once the protracted speech concluded—longer than desired—Arthur approached first to the dirt pile for his father's grave.

He cast the initial handful after the coffin's descent, trailed by Rubius and the other men.

When women's turns arrived to say goodbye, Arabella led by tossing a white rose onto the newly laid soil.

They ought to have been red, yet Rubius chose white roses.

And thus it ended. A man whose voice once echoed through home halls received only silence in death.

Guests departed one by one toward the manor, leaving just immediate family.

Well, four unfamiliar faces confronted the family.

"Arnold!" Rubius shattered the quiet, advancing to clasp one man's hand, "Thank you for coming,"

Arabella focused intently on the two veiled women amid them, particularly as Rubius appeared... disturbed by their presence.

Raising the veils unveiled two aged, unfamiliar visages, yet strikingly familiar green eyes.

"Gwen," Rubius addressed the second elderly lady, "Annaleese," he bowed, "I thought I’d never see you again," his voice quivered.

"Neither did we, Rubius,"

Gwen scarcely acknowledged him, striding past to halt before Arabella, "You raised quite the tide, girl,"

"I... Forgive me," Arabella faltered, "I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t seem to recognize you,"

Matching smirks formed on both women as they shared a look before facing Arabella again.

"Gwendoline, Tabitha Sterling. Your great aunt," the taller extended a hand, which Arabella accepted hesitantly.

"Annaleese, Seraline Sterling. Also, your great aunt," the shorter followed suit, then eyed Silas, "Thank you for reaching out,"

This drew every gaze to him briefly, until Gwen cradled Arabella’s cheeks, "She seems to have good colors on her which means you are doing a good enough job," her eyes flicking to the vampire momentarily.

"Have you met before?" Arabella asked timidly, eyes darting between faces.

"Not exactly," Annaleese sighed, "But I am assuming your husband here wanted you to meet the only Sterling women that ever reached their nineties,"

"I am sorry we did not come sooner for you," Gwen’s face grew grave, "But you see... Even if we had tried to, I don’t believe we would have succeeded,"

"No...," Arabella eyed the grave as dirt filled it, "Not as long as I lived under his hold. You would not have succeeded indeed,"

"I am terribly sorry for your mother," Annaleese clasped the young woman’s hands, "We were unable and well, more correctly, unwilling to attend her funeral as we quite frankly swore off this family,"

Much history awaited sharing; after presenting them to the silent Arthur, the elders pulled Arabella to the manor, bombarding her with chatter like Grace.

And oh... They brimmed with tales and anecdotes, their poised demeanor upon arrival belying the volume.

It extended so long that Arabella forgot all else that evening.