Belle did not dare open her eyes. The veil had made her feel hidden and a little at ease that he could not read her eyes and she could not see his dark ones, but now that he had removed that little piece of mask, she felt her heart skip a beat in fear. Would he see that she was not her sister, the beautiful flower their king had asked for? Would he, like any other man apart from her Jamie, see how unattractive her face was?
Men had not failed to remind her all the time of how pale her beauty was compared to her precious sister. They said she was a toad next to a fairy and that she should never show her face in public when Eve was around. She had become so insecure and timid because of it until she met Jamie, and he showered her with all the praises she had never received, even from her own family.
Eve only called her beautiful when she wanted something from her, and her father would not let her out to meet their guests if her hair wasn't let down and her head down to hide the small scar on her forehead or her unattractive face. Now that he had revealed her all of a sudden, her fingers clutched her dress, and she shut her eyes tightly.
Her hair was not down; it was tied up with pins, and only a few curls were framing the sides of her face. He would probably tell the coachman to stop and send her back to her family. That would be good, but she could not imagine the disappointment she would bring to her family for that, not to mention the treason they had committed by switching them.
Their father had said the king would never know, as he had not personally met the two of them since the time they were little girls, and if she did not give herself away, everything would be fine. But surely, her unattractive face would make everything come crumbling down. Belle believed that, but when her husband did not say a word or move, she peeked out through her lashes and froze as her eyes locked with his. Though she realized he was not looking into her eyes but at the scar above her left brow, she could not help but still.
Why was he staring at her unsightly scar? If her hair had been down, the scar wouldn't have been visible, as her front bangs would have hidden it. She wanted to cover her face with the veil but stilled, her breath hitching in her lungs as she waited for him to send her back home.
He was much more handsome than he had seemed from her view behind the veil. He had tan skin, which was a surprising thing for a vampire known to be pale. His rare dark blue hair, which had been smoothly swept back in the wedding hall, was now in a half-disheveled state that made him even more charming. He was like a dark fallen angel with the eyes of the devil himself. His skin had a golden hue, and his unblemished, drop-dead handsome face was almost unreal. It was a sin for a man—a bloodsucker, at that—to look this breathtakingly good.
He parted his red, gorgeous lips to speak, but the words he spoke were different from what Belle had imagined he would say. She had expected him to scoff in disgust and yell orders at the coachman to stop and send this unsightly woman back to her family, but instead, he said,
"Do you know my name, Isa?"
She blinked innocently and nodded her head.
"Then say it," he ordered calmly, his calm voice a stark contrast to his seemingly dead eyes and hard, indifferent face.
"Lord Dagon," she muttered softly, but he knitted his brows and tilted his head in a way she realized he liked doing.
"My name, sweetheart, not my last name. Say it."
Sweetheart. The endearment made her heart flutter for some reason. A wife was never permitted to call her husband's name, and she had watched even her parents address each other formally, even after many years of marriage.
"I dare not, my lord."
He was displeased now; she felt it. She looked up at him and saw that the eyes that wouldn't quite meet hers were narrowed in displeasure. Should she pity the woman those dark eyes finally rested on? They were too dark, too lifeless, and too blank—it was like the pit of hell.
He suddenly touched a lock of blonde hair that had drifted to her forehead. "Say my name, Isa. I am giving you permission to call me by it when it's just us. Say it."
"I can no—" She saw his eyes flick briefly toward hers, but he looked away in an instant. Yet his expression told her he wasn't pleased with her, thus she nodded her head. She wouldn't push her luck too much when he was being nice.
"V-very well, Rohan..." It felt like a sin to say his name, as she only knew him as the mad vampire. He was a madman, after all, she reminded herself. Or at least, he'd grown up in an asylum for madmen.
He looked pleased by her saying his name but did not speak again. Instead, he drew a thin curl of her blonde hair between his fingers, straightening it. He let it go, his eyes flickering as it bounced against her forehead. He drew the curl out again, watching it bounce back, and again. His concentration unnerved her; the closeness of his body unnerved her still more. He was seated sideways on the seat, half facing her.
"Y-you shall take all the spring out of it, my lor—Rohan," she said. "My maid will be so disappointed if she knew I hadn't gotten to Nightbrook with the hair she made..."
Rohan blinked, then returned his hand to his lap as though having to force it.
"Do you love him?" he suddenly asked, taking her aback.
"Who?"
"The blue-eyed man outside the hall, the one you were staring at when we got to the carriage," he reminded her.
Belle's eyes widened in surprise, as she had not thought he was watching her watching Jamie. He was not even looking at her at the time, and she had not thought he noticed Jamie in the crowd. How did he know he had blue eyes and that she was staring at him?
Though she had expected him to comment badly on her appearance, and since he hadn't, it meant he still wanted her as his wife. And now that he was asking her this question all of a sudden, she did not know whether to tell him the truth or lie. Could one tell their husband that they love another man?
She decided not to do either. "It doesn't matter, I... am married to you now." It mattered because she loved Jamie, and if he would still have her, she would run back to him the moment she completed her mission in Nightbrook.
Rohan's gaze flicked over her eyes briefly before looking away. "It matters. Do you love him, Isa?"
The way he said that name seemed to make a string tug at her heart. Deciding not to lie to him, she nodded her head. "With all my heart."
She did not see it, but his hand clenched into a tight fist for a moment, then released. "I won't expect love from you in this marriage because I can't love you back. However, I will not let you love another as well."
Belle's heart stumbled over. She did not expect him to love her, nor would she love him, as this marriage was not of her own doing. Though he could use the opportunity of her not being the delicate flower like her sister to end it and be free of it, he didn't. He could not stop her from loving Jamie; her heart belonged to him.
Unable to hold back her tongue, she replied to his words. "That's hardly flattering, Ro... Rohan. For a woman to hear her husband won't fall in love with her and would not let her love another..."
"Not won't. I can't love."
"Pardon me?" she said with a curious voice.
"I am incapable of love. I will not offer it to you or anyone because I cannot feel it."
Belle wondered what was more frightening—the words themselves or the flat tone of voice with which he delivered them.
"Perhaps you simply haven't found the right person, my lord. Everyone falls in love sooner or later."
"I cannot. Love is an illusion meant for those who still possess a heart. But I have none. There is no place for love in a void where nothing stirs, no pain, no warmth, no tenderness. Only a endless, hollow silence."
Belle stared at his profile. Indeed, she had heard that vampires, apart from the turned ones, had no heart, but she had heard they still love. Or was it just rumors? As if reading her thoughts, he spoke again.
"It has nothing to do with me being a vampire. I am incapable of love, sweetheart."
Belle's face heated up for the endearment again. "If you are incapable of love and won't expect me to give it, why can't I be allowed to love another?" The question was stupid, as women were taught to never question their husbands, but she could not imagine her life without loving Jamie. She would always cherish their memories and love, and if possible pray to return to him someday.
"You can always decide to end the marriage now before we go into Nightbrook..." she muttered, as she saw no reason he would still want her as his wife after realizing she wasn't the woman their king had requested.
Rohan turned to her and reached for the curl again as though he couldn't stop himself. "I cannot end this marriage now that I have seen you..." he whispered thickly, his hand loosening more curls, rendering the maid's work useless and causing her stomach to warm up at how close he was to her now.
Seeing the question in her eyes, he added with a wicked glint in his eyes that still wouldn't quite meet hers, "I want to keep you as my wife and woman alone because I want to bed you. Every night, every day. I won't like you having another man in your mind when I do that. You are my woman now, Isa, and nobody, not even that man outside the hall, can have you back."