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“Heisha, her name is Heisha,” Keabi said with a sigh of exasperation and a glint of sympathy in her eye. “Do not even try to get close to her. She is of noble blood, and I would doubt she loves like you do.”
I laughed wholeheartedly, loving the golden sound of it and seeing how it grated Keabi’s nerves. She would be such a pretty little thing if her face was not so doughy and she would not try to bed every man her eyes fell upon. This darling little ray of light, this Heisha was another story entirely. She had come to court over a week ago, but no one before Keabi had known her name. I had not laid eyes upon this little nymph before tonight. I was captivated by her.
Korinne saw my wide and eager eyes and said rather mockingly, “She is not even that beautiful; I know you could do better.” By better, I knew she most certainly meant herself. Korinne was radiant, no doubt. Unfortunately, her beauty was tainted by a cruel tongue and often poor taste in language. She gazed at me for a moment longer, wanton interest in her eyes. She twirled an oak colored curl on a slender finger. Then, with a resigned sigh, she flounced away. I rolled my eyes. She was no doubt after a more willing participant for her games of love. We dancers of the court were the freest in our sexuality. We loved who we chose, without regard to wealth, race, or gender. I Title was something to be watched, though. I kept to the women, unlike most. Men held no fascination for me. The nobles were not as light with their relationships, and were eager to call us abominations and sinners. I pitied them for the enjoyable times they would certainly miss by limiting themselves in such a way. I also hated most of them for the cruel comments they directed toward us.
The air stirred around me and I caught a glimpse of gleaming, dark hair. My eyes were drawn to it and my face stretched into a half-smile, without my even commanding it to do so. With one final jump, Heisha left her partner with a curtsy and a flushed face. She was not a gifted dancer, but possessed a music all her own that made her enticing. She strode inconspicuously to the balcony and I followed, my dancer’s feet light upon the polished marble. Here she gazed at the stars, and without meaning to, I did something very foolish. I ran swiftly past the bounds of being attracted or enamored, into the arms of true love. Her dreamy, yet clear and contemplative eyes stopped my heart, and then sent it pounding in an unfamiliar but welcome rhythm. I had never believed in love at first sight. I thought it a foolish thing of fantasy, kept to the realms of court poets, but here it was in flesh and blood.
How could Korinne have said such a thing about this angel? How could all those sniveling fools watch her, but not see her? I heard a soft sigh and whipped my head around. Heisha spread her arms across the balcony and began to hum a beautiful little tune. The moonlight shined upon her raven wing hair and threw sparkles into her chocolate eyes. Her tiny hands caressed the granite banister as her song took flight. She looked so small and so fragile. She made little gestures without realizing she did, narrating the lyrics with her tiny, golden hands. They looked like doves flitting about, made alabaster by the moonlight. I was hypnotized by the gentle, fluttering motions. I moved closer, stepping into the moonlight. Heisha suddenly stopped singing and her breath caught as she turned. Scanning the darkness, she frowned with an air of confusion and embarrassment. I flattened myself against a wall and prayed not to be found. It was in vain.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” said the voice. It was of a medium tone and pitch, and utterly unremarkable except for the fact that it was hers. This made it extraordinary. My eyes fluttered open and came to rest on her tiny, heart shaped face. Her eyes were small and shrewd with a hint of mischief. The entirety of her faced possessed such a beauty; it was like looking into the sun. I found myself with a sudden urge to blink, but I couldn’t even tear my eyes away for the merest of seconds. All the clichéd references to romance I had ever heard of were encapsulated in this single, marvelous girl.
She cleared her throat and I gathered my composure. Years of hiding my true intentions and self at court had never proven more valuable than in that single moment. I curtsied slightly and smiled, “My name is Eleonora, my lady.”
“Eleonora, lovely to meet you. My name is Heisha, Duchess of Granada. The title sounds beautiful, but only gains me a great deal of pomp and whispered comments,” she said with a grin in careful Spanish. They slight Castilian accents made it as smooth as water over glass. I smiled hesitantly and then inwardly slapped myself. I could not afford to simper like an idiot in her presence. It was terrible enough that Korinne and Keabi knew of my intentions; Heisha herself did not need to realize it.
“We should go back inside. Best not to give the petty fools another reason to gossip about you.,” I smiled politely, my entire face committed to the gesture. She turned around the stare at the balcony longingly for the briefest moment, and I commanded my eyes to stay firmly fixed to her face. It simply would not do to ogle her like a heathen. I thought over this for a moment. At least not noticeably.
“Perhaps you are right,” she turned back to face me and brushed past, her hand grazing mine for an infinitesimal second. In this moment, time stopped. I was consumed by a wild heat that threatened to scorch every inch of my flesh. There was no turning back…
I woke up, shrieking. My vision was clouded, and my eyes threatened to burst from the tears within them. I plunged my nails fiercely into my arm. I didn’t stop until I felt diamond hard nail hit diamond hard bone. Blood spurted around my fingertips. My nose breathed in the metallic scent of blood that was not my own. My arm burned as my eyes cooled. I opened my eyes. My arm was already healed. I glanced at the pale, thin, flawless expanse of flesh. How it mocked me. It faked vulnerability with its softness, but it was just as horrifically impervious as the rest of me. I threw off the sheet upon my bed, wrinkling my nose at the crimson spotting of it. Crossing to the mirror, I peered into the glass. I gazed upon my wretched loveliness. The beauty that had gotten her… gotten Heisha…. No! I smashed my fist upon a pile of earrings, sending the backs through my hand. I sighed and picked them out one by one before choosing a pair to put in my ears. I had never pierced my ears when I was human. It wasn’t extremely painful forcing them in, just inconvenient having to do so each and every time. Not that I minded pain in any case. It gave my mind some semblance of peace. The numbness I enjoyed from it kept my sanity. No, that was a gross overstatement of what it did. Pain did not keep life bearable, it simply kept me from attempting to kill myself every second of the day. I laughed, gritting my teeth at the sound it made now. It was no longer a melodic tinkling, but the raking of metal over glass.
I slipped on a black shirt and simple jeans. The shoes I picked were impractical, but that did not matter. I could still run faster in them than any human could in the best conditions a hundred fold. I rubbed my fingers over my shaved head, feeling the prickly stubble. Peering in the mirror, I saw the dark circles that rimmed my eyes. Set into my bleach white face, they made me truly appear to be dead. I smiled, and it came out wolfish and stark. No less beautiful. Vocalizing my disgust, I opened the door. Nightmares always left me hungry.
I could hear him and smell him long before my eyes glimpsed his frame. His sweat poured fear with every bead. The shuddering, quick beats of his heart sent vibrations through the ground that made my fingertips itch in anticipation. I walked swiftly, not wanting him to startle. I saw him then and transformed my body into a thing of pure beauty. My hair grew long and lustrous and my eyes became a hypnotic shade of emerald green. His eyes widened as he saw what was the closest thing to an angel that he had ever beheld stroll cavalierly out of an alley and toward him. He was utterly entranced, and I thought myself merciful that the last thing he would ever see would be as beautiful as I was.
I threw myself at him, a blur of pale, thin limbs and dark clothing. Skirting my tongue across the delicate flesh of the neck, I found his jugular. The skin cut smoothly. I drank heavily; my eyes clouding over. The delicate coppery taste was lovely. I felt myself renewed as the hot elixir of pure life and substance poured down my throat. I drank until I was bloated and then threw the body from me. The gash upon the neck was barely noticeable. The work of a surgeon with six hundred years of practice. He appeared as if he were… sleeping. I giggled to myself, high with the raging fluid of mortality surging through my body. I left him against the wall and frowned. I did not even know his name. I licked my lips, getting a sense of his mind through the memories crowded in the veins. Nicholas.
“Goodbye, Nicholas,” I said, giddy, “Sweet dreams.”