~1819~

Several weeks had passed since the horrifying attack at Raven’s Loft and it was now the start of the new year of 1819. In those weeks the clans of the Camarilla had worked tirelessly to locate and eradicate the werewolf threat. However after nearly two months without any further attacks let alone any other sign of the murderer, or his family members, they came to believe that it was a one-time occurrence and that the culprit had retreated back to the wilderness with the rest of his kind; and had most likely taken Kristofer back with him.

Despite the conclusion that no more attacks were likely to happen, Claire had still barely left her and Sean’s room in those entire two months. She put in an appearance at the two monthly meetings in December and January, and then disappeared behind the walls of their bedchamber once more. Her tavern stood empty even after the signs of the carnage had been removed by the unfortunate servants who were given that horrific task.

On this January night, she was once again locked away in their bedroom trying in vain to avoid any and all contact with anyone, excepting the moments her and Sean spent together before dawn. And even those were rather silent and strained as she continued to mentally punish herself each night for having endangered the lives of three of their closest acquaintances. Sean had made more than one attempt to assure her that she was not responsible for their deaths as she did attempt to remove Kristofer from her life once she found out about his familial attachments; but her husband’s words seemed to fall on deaf ears more often than not.

That night Sean was attending to other business, as he often was, and a servant came knocking at the door of their chambers. The interruption startled Claire more than a bit from her place standing in the patio doorway and watching the ocean and the stars. She swallowed a bit as she forced her feet to carry her to the chamber door.

“Sean left word not to disturb him, so I came to see you instead” the pretty young woman greeted Claire apologetically.

“Can’t it wait until Sean is available?” Claire asked a little hoarsely as her voice barely left her throat on most nights anymore.

“The crew of the ship that came in tonight found something and wants to know how Sean wants it dealt with” the servant continued in the same regretful tone.

Claire sighed and mumbled, “don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that question” she then just shook her head and pulled a long, light jacket over her nightgown which she rarely bothered even changing out of on most nights. With another sigh, she slipped into a nearby pair of boots as well. She then grudgingly followed the servant down the hall and the steps, through the main hall and to the foyer, then toward the gate of the thick wall that surrounded their Prince’s compound.

When she stepped through the wrought iron gate that was one of the only entry points of the fence surrounding those fifty square miles, it wasn’t too long of a walk to the harbor. As she approached the dock, her eyes easily were drawn to the fearful young man that was being held fast by two burly sailors. He stood at about 5’10” with dark brown disheveled locks that reached a few inches below his shoulders and his eyes were nearly the same shade as his hair. He looked to be in his very early twenties and was rather underfed and caked in dirt as though he had not had such luxuries as actual shelter or food for a very long time. But despite all of these facts, he was still somehow beautiful to Claire, as were so many other things and people whom she had come across in her long life.

“Lady Beringer” one of the sailors bowed his head stiffly to her, “we found a stowaway and we wanted to know what your husband wanted done with him” he offered the simple explanation to Claire. The scared young man’s eyes easily moved from the sailors holding him there to fall on Claire where he found himself so easily transfixed by her allure, just as most mortals tended to be when confronted with a beautiful immortal.

“Well, my husband is rather busy most of the time” Claire responded, trying not to allow any bitterness into her tone through the words, as she had not exactly been very present in the last several weeks either; at least from a purely emotional standpoint.

“So, what should we do with him, then?” the sailor questioned again.

Claire just shook her head at being the one expected to make such a decision. She then found some response, “have you at least asked him why he was hiding on your ship?”

“He don’t speak English, ma’am” the other sailor offered, to which Claire raised a brow as she looked back at the attractive young man with an obvious question in her eyes.

Claire narrowed her pretty green eyes as she took a step closer, allowing those eyes to move over the unkempt young man, “no English?” she asked him warily, just to confirm the sailor’s words.

“Non, Français” he offered as he cast his eyes downwards as he answered.

Claire looked at him curiously for another moment before offering any response, mumbled though it was, “where’s Lemuel when you need him?” As the man offered nothing but a questioning look in return, Claire sighed once more before continuing, “just leave him here with me until I can find out what Sean wants done” she told the sailors with a nod.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” the sailor asked with concern.

After taking a moment to read nothing in his aura but the most prominent emotions of fear, sadness, confusion, and worry, Claire spoke again “he doesn’t appear that dangerous” Claire attempted a smile as she gestured for them to release the young man from their grip.

The sailors simply shook their heads at her decision and released him before turning and heading back toward the gangplank. It was then that the young man seemed to become agitated as he looked after them, then back at Claire, “Non, ils ne peuvent pas partir. Ils ont ma soeur ...” he stated in a pleading tone as he looked between the men and Claire.

Claire narrowed her eyes once more and called to the sailors, “wait a moment.” She then turned back to the young man, “you don’t want them to leave?” she asked, not fully expecting him to understand her, but needing to try and find some meaning in his reaction.

That was then the young man continued in the same pleading tone, “Ma sœur, elle est toujours sur le bateau … son corps ... Je veux dire ...” he then let his voice trail off as he seemed to be forcing back his emotions then.

Claire watched him for another moment before she then came to a decision. In the decade she had known Eliza she had actually allowed the other woman to tutor her in an ability she had learned from her own sire. It was an ability that she had never heard mentioned by Haven either, so she could only assume that Sean had not even learned it unless Eliza had tutored him as well. As Eliza’s sire was from Europe, she spoke several languages and wanted to share them with her childe; so she taught her an ability that Eliza called ‘cipher.’ It was basically training one’s mind to translate any other language you read or heard; and Eliza and her sire had spent hours with the elder Kindred speaking in various languages and testing Eliza’s ability to decipher the words she spoke or wrote. Eliza then generously offered to teach Claire how to do this as well.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Claire did balk at the idea at first as it seemed just a bit too close to mind-reading for her comfort, considering her opinions on that particular ability. But Eliza assured her that she was only translating words that were spoken or seen, which was very different than pulling hidden thoughts out of another’s mind. So, Claire gave in to allowing Eliza to teach her such a thing, deeming that it could be useful at some point in the future. And it appeared that point was upon her now.

“Please tell me why you don’t want them to leave” Claire spoke gently to the obviously worried young man.

Looking between the sailors and Claire worriedly once more, he spoke again, “Ils ne peuvent pas y aller. Le corps de ma soeur est toujours sur le bateau. Je dois l’enterrer. Ne les laisse pas l’emmener avec eux” he tried to explain himself once more.

As Claire concentrated on his words, her face showed a worried understanding at last. She swallowed again as she looked at the young man once more, then turned her eyes back to the two crew members, “I think he’s trying to tell me that there’s something on board your ship that he needs to get back before you leave” Claire stated shakily.

The other men just scoffed, “like what? He’s a stowaway.”

That was when Claire took another step onto the dock, the young man moving after her with the same desperate look on his face, “I don’t think he was alone” she offered quietly.

“What? We didn’t find anyone else” the second sailor returned.

That was when Claire turned back to the young man, “can you show us?” she asked him as she gestured to the ship, wishing her power worked the other way and she could speak to him in a way that he would understand. Then she had the thought that she could actually get into his mind telepathically, however she was not sure that her thoughts would translate for him; even if he didn’t run screaming at the reality of her telepathically entering his mind.

He simply nodded to her as though he did understand at least somewhat and started back toward the ship once more, attempting to ignore the scowls the two crew members centered on him. After a few moments, he had led the two sailors and Claire to the place where he had indeed been hiding his companion. Hidden under several scraps of cloth and behind the crates that were in the very back of the cargo hold, was where they found the body of a young woman who appeared to also be in her very early twenties, just as the young man was. She had the look of someone who could have been a relative of his, as they shared the same complexion, coloring and features; at least from what they could tell from her pale and lifeless body.

Claire sighed sadly as she looked back at the young man who appeared to be trying very hard to bite back his own tears at having to reveal the young woman’s body to them, “your sister?” Claire asked as she looked up at him sadly, having already known that that was exactly who the girl was from the mental translation she had made that led them to this moment.

“Madeleine, ma sœur. Nous ne pouvait pas trouver assez de nourriture, et elle est tombée malade ... et ...” he simply sniffled as he looked away from the young woman’s body and attempted to hide his tears.

“Her name was Madeleine?” she asked him softly. The young man simply continued to turn from the sight and nodded. “And what’s your name?” she asked him softly.

He sniffled again as he finally looked back toward Claire while trying to keep his eyes from lingering on Madeleine’s body, “name?” he repeated as though unsure of the word. Claire simply nodded before he offered an answer, “Nicolas.”

Claire sighed softly as she nodded once more, “I’m Claire, Nicolas” she told him before her own eyes moved back to the young woman. “We’ll help you put her to rest” she added quietly.

“We will?” the first crew member asked in surprise.

“Just because she didn’t belong here doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve that much” Claire returned quietly as she gestured for them to carefully lift the girl’s body and help get her off of the ship.

After finally getting Madeleine’s body to the dock and laying her there upon the beach so near to where Haven had met his own fate a mere twelve years earlier, the second sailor turned back to Claire, “I didn’t know you spoke French, Lady Beringer.”

Claire looked down a moment before responding, “I only understand a bit of it” she excused with the best version of the truth she could come up with. Once the two sailors had returned to their ship, she turned back to where Nicolas sat on his knees next to his sister’s body as he tried to force back more sadness. “She got sick because there wasn’t enough food?” she asked gently as she moved closer.

Nicolas looked up at her warily, as though surprised by her words, “Vous comprenez le français, mais vous ne parlez pas?”

Claire raised a brow at that, beginning to get the distinct impression that he did understand her words a lot better than she had originally thought. She then cautiously replied, “you understand English, but don’t speak it?” she asked in a way which was a deliberate flipping of his last statement to her, which had been ‘you understand French, but don’t speak it?’

Nicolas seemed a bit caught by her words, and swallowed hard before attempting to come up with a response. But before he could offer any, Sean finally made his appearance as he stepped through the wrought iron gate and moved down the beach toward them, his ice blue eyes immediately moving to the body of the young woman before moving to the two of them.

“I heard we had an unexpected guest” Sean stated in greeting as he slowly moved closer, his mere presence seeming to cow Nicolas into looking away as though in fear.

“This is Nicolas” Claire offered sadly, casting Nicolas’ reaction to Sean another wary look. “He and his sister were stowaways. She didn’t survive, obviously” she added more quietly, noting the way his brown eyes moved to the sand he still kneeled upon next to his sister’s body.

“Sorry to hear that” Sean offered as he too seemed curious about the fear that this man seemed to display despite Sean having done nothing to inspire such.

“I told him we’d help him bury her” Claire told Sean quietly.

“Of course” Sean agreed as he gestured to two of the servants that seemed to trail him almost everywhere since he had become Prince.

Once Nicolas and the servants left to take Madeleine’s body to the nearest graveyard in the small port town, Claire looked up at him, “so, what do you want done with him?”

“What do I want done with him?” Sean asked her curiously.

“He’s a mortal, but he was on your boat; so they came looking for you. You were busy, so they asked me instead. Now I’m asking you” she stated simply, her eyes turned in the direction that Nicolas and the servants had departed minutes earlier.

“If he and his sister were stowaways, I’m assuming they have no other family to speak of” Sean stated thoughtfully as he watched Claire’s gaze looking off into the distance after the very pretty, if dirty, young man.

“Hard to say. I haven’t heard him speak more than a word of English yet” Claire admitted with a sigh.

Sean raised a brow at that, “but you have heard him speak another language?” he easily inferred.

“He’s apparently French” Claire added with a slight shrug.

“So who told you that that was his sister?” Sean asked the obvious question.

Claire sighed again, “he did” she admitted as she warily turned her eyes up to her husband’s.

“In French?” Sean questioned with a bit of surprise.

“Sort of” Claire admitted as she bit her lip slightly and looked down.

“Well, I realize we’ve only known each other for 233 years, but I don’t remember you knowing much French; aside from a pleasant way of kissing and a few ménage a trois we’ve had in our colorful pasts” Sean teased wryly, hoping to get some sort of smile out of her, as he hadn’t seen her smile once since the incident at the tavern two months earlier.

“Eliza taught me…” she attempted, though her voice fell short for more than one reason.

“Eliza taught you French?” Sean asked as he seemed a bit surprised by not having heard that piece of information before.

“Sort of” Claire repeated.

“She sort of taught you French?” Sean asked with a bit of confusion.

“She taught me how to…”

“Do something French?” Sean asked, not able to hide the slight mischief behind his tone.

“Sean” Claire scoffed, biting back that smile he had been trying hard to produce, “she taught me this thing her sire taught her.”

“Did it involve tongue-kissing?” Sean had to ask playfully.

“Sean” she scolded again, though this time, her smile did break the surface for the briefest moment before she quickly moved on, “her sire was from Europe and she spoke several different languages; so she taught Eliza how to decipher any language in her head” she added more quietly.

Sean looked further surprised by that, “you can decipher any language, in your head?”

“Yes, I suppose I can,” Claire replied quietly, eyes down.

“So, now you know a trick that I don’t know?” he restated thoughtfully. He then added, “Well, now we have to keep him; I have to see this.” He chuckled slightly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Claire just hid another small smile, worried though that smile always was with her.