Chapter 58

"Don't worry, Lady Zezi, my horse is very strong, a good breed, and she can take us both to somewhere with spectacular meals. I know a place." Delice bumped her shoulder lightly against Zezi's own. "You'll not regret it."

Zezi didn't protest again; it was useless.

Although dining with the enemy wasn't her thing, but maybe this time, she could raise a white flag and allow a little bit of peace.

Besides, when next did she know that she would have the opportunity to sneak out like this again? Lady Delice would be too careful next time.

Her stomach rumbled again, although it was really low this time.

They both burst into laughter as they headed towards the horse, but before they went too far off, Zezi turned to see the words carved upon the gravestone, singling it out and concentrating on it.

Carved into the gray stone, were the letters hard to see under the dim moonlight.

"D...N..." But before she could read it completely and connect it all, Lady Delice was holding her hand and pulling her further away, asking her if she would need help getting on the horse.

How she wished it was a car; it would have been far easier.

Zezi wasn't used to riding horses but this might turn out to be fun.

With help from Lady Delice, she was finally on the brown horse.

While they rode, the horse galloping on the lonely path and then swaying above, Zezi's mind cast back to the letters on the gravestone, wondering and trying to guess the name it was.

The fact that she couldn't see the name clearly, although signified something with great importance to her.

It meant that the things fading from her weren't just George's mark, but the King's blood, too.

About the last one she was happy, but her happiness held a tinge of sadness in it.

Sadness that she didn't understand.

Zezi turned out to love the restaurant more than she had thought she would. Delice had booked a table for them at a corner that was dimly lit and far from the center of the little attention the restaurant had.

No one knew them here, which must be because Lady Delice was covering away half her face with a scarf, and Zezi had been made to do the same, using Lady Delice's blue scarf.

Did she ever run out of scarves?

The restaurant seemed a little scanty, though, and old-fashioned.

The food didn't taste like the one that she was used to back in the Capital or the one she used to cook. She had a faint memory of the food she cooked- she could count how many times she had done that after becoming the Zeta of the Capital. Considering that George was also the Beta and just as busy as she was, if not more, Aunt Alice's cooking was all they had to fall back on, and Aunt Alice never got tired of feeding them.

In fact, she loved doing it.

Zezi missed her family, and for every waking moment, she missed them even more.

She drew in a long breath, dropping her fork on her plate and that was when it hit her.

Her heartbeat! And her scent! Wouldn't the people in the restaurant figure it out? Although they seemed to be hardly a handful, but still.

She had communicated her worry with Delice who dismissed it with a smile.

"Only young, adventurous, and wealthy vampires come here; they are too wrapped up in their own world to care. You have nothing to worry about."

But that answer wasn't enough; in fact, it made her worry more.

The words young and adventurous made it worse but clearly, Lady Delice had no intention to offer more words of reassurance.

Lady Delice had eaten too. She claimed eating human food was a guilty pleasure. It felt so strange to hear them say that but by now, she was already getting used to it.

Human food was such a weird way to refer to food. To the werewolves, food was food.

Midway through the dinner, she noticed that the part of her dress that Delice had held her up by in the graveyard had ripped. Delice had observed it too and offered her long black jacket, along with a heartfelt apology.

That was exactly what made Zezi worried.

Lady Delice was too good.

Zezi was sure that she couldn't do half the things that Lady Delice was doing.

She had no plans to collect the jacket but she found herself throwing it over her shoulders anyways, enjoying the little warmth and safety it provided.

It smelt like Delice, and Delice smelt like chocolate, and a tinge of madness.

Zezi breathed out a chuckle.

Now, how was that possible?

They said nothing more for the rest of the dinner and once they were done, they headed back to the horse. Surprisingly, no one had come to take the payment, just as no one had welcomed them at the door when they first came in. The only contact with the staff of the restaurant they had, was the server, who had only appeared once, and that was to serve the food they ordered.

Zezi was thinking that Delice would give her a final warning about what had happened this evening once again while they were returning the horse, but she had said nothing, it was as if nothing had even happened to begin with. Even when they got to the palace, she said nothing, only told her to hurry upstairs, that the King would really hate it if he found out that she snuck out.

"So will you be telling the King?" Zezi had asked before they parted ways in the hallway.

"No. Goodnight and have a lovely dream, My Lady."

Zezi bit the inside of her bottom lip at the mention of a dream. She hoped her sleep would be dreamless. That was even if she would be lucky enough to get sleep.

She had taken the other stairs and Zezi had taken her own path, confused.

Her subconscious mind desperately wanted to find something off about Delice, something related to anger or revenge, envy. Anything. But whatever had happened at the graveside, now that she thought of it with an almost objective mind, was no cause for mystery.

It was normal for people to grieve their lost loved ones.

She really had to stop looking for a flaw where there was none. Not that Lady Delice was incapable of no wrong, Zezi just wasn't interested in searching for it anymore.

The white flag had been pulled down, and the war continued.

When Zezi got into her room, she found it just as she had left it.

Except that now, there was a small, red envelope on her dressing table.

Zezi was quick to lock the door and open the envelope to read whatever was contained in it, but not after looking around to ensure that she was truly alone.

This time around, the letters were not written in blood and wolfsbane, but still, that big, jagged handwriting made another graceful appearance.

'THE ONE WHO HATES THE CROWN OF LAVIDA IS MY ALLY. IF YOU ARE MY TRUE ALLY, COME TO THE CASTLE'S LIBRARY. THERE DAYS, I SHALL WAIT.

SINCERELY, YOUR FRIEND.'

Three days was far too long, an unnecessary waste of time.

In a flash she was at the door, turning the key in its lock.

But tonight, that sounded perfect.