Sanguine and Cervidae

He’s coming back.

The Countess wanted to shroud herself in the comfort of denial, but the gravity of the news would not afford the luxury. Even drinking and the comfort of a woman’s touch failed to drag her away from the reality that was her husband’s return from the war. She prayed to the Night and the Sanguine God that the Pale Lion would not return to her, or at least, the chain that bound her to him would have been broken by some act of war. Both prayers were unheard, and he was coming back to fulfill what the Countess’ designated purpose was.

To be a brood mare for the future of their people.

She laid on her side in the warmed bed, the taste of fresh blood and the quelled ache in her loins only providing a blunted bliss. Her deep celestite blue eyes locked on the letter on the nightstand which declared the war in Cervelo over and the Pale Lion’s return. Running away always failed her, and it would be day in the Eternal Night before she could fight off her husband and reclaim the bond. The Countess felt herself become overcome as if she was prey in the eyes of a predator. It felt paralytic and unnatural. She was so fixated on the letter that she did not feel the shifting in her bed as her most recent conquest began to stir.

“There’s a witch in the woods,” the maiden whispered, “She might be able to help…”

The Countess lifted her head from the pillow, her dark oak colored curls disturbed by the movement, realizing the human lingered longer than usual. “A witch in the woods? What children’s storybook did you pull this from?”

“She’s real, my lady,” the mousey maiden interjected, “I heard some of the other servants speak of her; she lives in the Ironwoods, and she wears antlers and speaks to animals.”

“You’ve yet to convince me she’s not some fable. Please do not waste my time telling stories.”

“It is not a story,” the maiden rebutted, “besides, is a witch more fantastical than,” there was hesitancy and the maiden stumbled as she struggled to get the next word out, “....than…”

“...Vampires?” the Countess finished, her back still to the maiden. She never understood why humans were so frightened to say the word, but perhaps, it was a prey characteristic. “You are not wrong,” the Countess sighed, relaxing her posture again, “but I will not be using a witch to kill my husband. Killing the hero, the Pale Lion, will have very unsavory consequences that would cause my own death.”

“She will not kill; that’s not the witch’s way. I hear stories of her powers…She can...limit his desires, make it so he will have no desire to touch you. Some of the wealthy used her spell and her services.”

The Countess paused; the Pale Lion hungered for everything carnal. His reputation for seduction nearly advanced the Countess’; his bastards were numerous and speckled across the Continent in droves. The idea of him not wanting to touch her seemed so farce. The Pale Lion was well aware of the persuasion of the Countess, but that would not stop him. They have been married for fifty years now, and the day of the wedding, he was called to war. The Countess never knew a man, and would prefer to live out her extended life not ever knowing one. She had to entertain this witch as an opportunity to get out.

“How can I find this witch?”

“Her consort sits in the upper market in the Main District. Send the consort with a gift and a petition, and if the witch favors it, she will tell you how to get to her lair in the Ironwoods.”

“Perhaps, I will look into this witch… Thank you.”

The bed shifted again and the Countess felt the maiden grow closer. “W-with the Pale Lion being inhibited, maybe we can move on from just se–” The maiden touched her on the shoulder and the Countess immediately recoiled, curling herself into a tighter ball.

The Countess growled, “Do not touch me unless you either intend to be fucked or drank from.”

There was a recoil and the bed shifted more. The Countess finally stirred and sat up, her eyes on the maiden with a stern stare. The maiden’s face began to grow wet under her swollen red eyes, her hands trembling while she clutched the sheets to her bare body. Was she...was she crying? Oh this was just getting more bothersome.

The Countess sighed, “We had this conversation so many times. I have no interest in being intimate with you. Our kind and your kind do not integrate beyond the boundaries of the body. And do not think sex between us means I want something more… Now go, I would like to be alone.”

The maiden left the Countess’ chambers, barely dressed in love tattered clothes while she swept tears, the Countess lounged back against her pillowy headrest. This tryst was not worth another thought, it was truly just nature. Humans and her kind inhabited the same world, but their relationship was no different than that between the sheep and the lion. The Countess never killed on the basis of convenience, she took pleasures of the flesh in other ways. It was the human’s own folly for not recognizing the nature of their affair.

Above all, weakness was stealthy and insidious...and the difference between loins and lions was where the “I” was placed.