Tell His Majesty that his thoughtfulness toward my wife is truly appreciated," he said, his husky voice carrying a note of warmth that masked the sharpness beneath. "And I'll be sure to see that he never has to bring in more humans."
The words might have sounded harmless to the unsuspecting humans.
But not to Rav, who knew his lordship all too well.
"I will send the word, my Lord. Carry the lady's trunks into her chamber and prepare her bath for the night," Rav said, turning to the line of seven servants. They hurriedly nodded and rushed off to complete their tasks.
They could not afford to offend any of the vampires in any way. In truth, even though the mad vampire was someone anyone wouldn't want to cross, they were still lucky to even be here.
Nightbrook had not attacked any human land since many years ago. They had gotten human slaves in those years they fought with the human lands. And as humans were easy to reproduce, they had created a slave establishment in Nightbrook where all the humans taken years ago were made into sex slaves.
They allowed them to sleep with each other by giving them Aphrodisiacs and locking them up with the males. In no time, the establishment had been working smoothly, with human babies growing up into adults and being sold to wealthy vampire families or royals. Most of them had never even been to the human land, as they had been born and brought up in Nightbrook and trained to obey the vampires who bought them.
Belle couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy as she watched the servants bump into one another in their haste to unload her trunks. She couldn't wait to make all these bloodsuckers pay for their cruelty and heartlessness towards her kind. She would feel comfortable with humans serving her, but she couldn't be at ease knowing they had been brought here and forced into it, unlike the servants in Aragonia who worked for wealthy families by choice and were paid for their service. Here, they worked without payment.
What she didn't realize was that they considered themselves fortunate. Compared to those forced to serve as blood givers or breeders, being a mere servant was a privilege.
There were four girls and three boys and among the girls there was one who reminded her of her sister as she struggled to lift the heavy trunk from the back of the carriage, her slender hands were quivering.
Belle was tempted to help the girl, just as she had always assisted the servants in the Dawson household, but before she could move, a firm grip on her wrist stopped her.
"What do you think you are doing, little bunny?"
His voice came from beside her, smooth and knowing. She tore her gaze from the servants and looked at him, his brows arched into the fringe of dark blue strands covering his forehead.
"I was going to help them with the trunks. They're heavy, and she might hurt herself," she said, referring to the slender girl whose eyes reminded her of her younger sister, as if it were completely normal for a lady to assist the servants. She had grown up doing such tasks and never realized it was unusual. She had even arranged Eve's wardrobe and set her vanity table because her sister insisted Belle was the only one who knew how to do it best, because Belle was the best sister in the world.
Rohan ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked down at his wife, a slight lift of his lip betraying his sly mirth. "Why? Isn't that what they were brought here to do? Work for you? I thought human nobles never lifted a hand. Why are you rushing to assist?" He narrowed his eyes at her.
This time, she did not hide her thoughts. She pursed her lips and said, "Because I think they don't deserve to be here. They should be with their own kind, in the human lands, living happily with their families."
"Just like you lived happily with your own family, hmm?" He arched a brow, his dark eyes sharp with sly amusement as he noticed the way hers trembled at the mention of her family.
"Tell me, sweetheart, do you think their lives would be any better in the human lands? Are the humans any better than the vampires? Do the humans not make those beneath them toil? Do the wealthy not exploit the poor?"
Belle got his point. She'd seen nobles make their servants lay flat on the muddy ground so they could step on them to pass to their carriage. She'd seen them hit them for merely making the mistake of spilling tea. But then, she still thought it was better than being sucked of blood and being in a familiar land where such mistakes would not kill you but earn you punishment. She parted her lips to give her own point, but he placed his finger against her lips to shut her up.
His gloved finger pressed down on her lips, the heat of it seeping through the fabric and into her skin. She held her breath. His face was shadowed beneath the twilight sky, his sharp features barely visible as he leaned in, closing the space between them.
"Learn to stop worrying about others, Isa," he murmured. "They don't need your sympathy. If given the chance, they would step on you to claim your place. The world is a cruel place, darling, especially for naive little creatures like you."
She wanted to tell him she was not naive and that not everyone was like him, who believed everyone was out to get him or would step on him when he showed genuine kindness, but he pursed his lips and said, "Shh, not a word, darling," pressing his finger more firmly on her lips.
Maybe it was her overwrought imagination, but his touch lingered against the softness of her lips for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Then, with infuriating ease, he trailed his fingers upward, catching the tip of her nose between his gloved fingers and giving it a teasing pinch. His lips curved, but the smile was anything but warm, it was sadistic, hollow, as if nothing behind it was truly alive.
"Stop worrying about them and start worrying about yourself," he whispered, his voice dipping into something darker. "Tonight is our wedding night. Go inside and prepare for me."
Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twisted with nervousness. Oh no, he didn't mean what he said in the carriage, did he? He wasn't… going to join with her in that way married couples do, was he? She swallowed hard as heat crept into the deepest parts of her body.
He straightened but didn't step back. His presence pressed against her like a force, suffocating, inescapable. Then, just as she thought he would leave her standing there, he leaned in one last time, his breath ghosting over her cheek.
"And don't forget, little wife, I plan to be your tutor until you learn that lust is far greater than love. You'll forget your dear Mr. Merchant soon enough."