I was on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. I blinked, raising my hand up to rub my eyes and trying to remember the images that had flooded my head. They all bled together so that none made sense. When I gave up on pinpointing at least one image, I looked around the large dark room I was in. The bed was huge, draped in dark sheets and comfortably soft. I almost wanted to lie back down and drift off to sleep. That would be if it didn't happen to be a stranger's bed.

I crawled to the end of the bed, grabbing the bedpost which I noticed had etchings all through it. When I looked around the room, I noticed a lot of the walls and furniture had etchings carved into them of all types of designs. Then I saw on top of the furniture were figurines. From the distance, I could tell they were carvings of little people, creatures, and objects. On the walls were some panels of wood which had carvings drawn through it of landscapes. It was very... artsy.

It was then that I noticed there was someone else in the room. On the opposite side of the room, he sat at a desk that had a semi-circle of small tools and untouched wood with an overhead lamp that wasn't turned on. I could see his hand holding a small curved knife as he sliced through light wood slowly. It reminded me of the scalpel he had picked from the weapons in the dungeons. Had he been planning on treating me as his own little project for carving before he found the marks on my back?

I shuddered just remembering it.

Jacobi looked up suddenly, his citrine brown eyes landing on my form on the end of what I knew now was probably his bed. The intensity of his stare caused me to cast my eyes away quickly, and now I was looking only at my hands. I moved my gaze from my hands to my arm, which was still painted with dry blood. But when I touched my upper arm I noted that the wound was gone. This meant all my wounds were healed. I wondered if Xander or Aveline were the ones who gave me their blood. Jacobi, I couldn't believe would.

I jumped when I heard the scrape of wood against the floor. When I looked up, Jacobi had pulled a chair to the end of the bed and was sitting down in front of me. He had something in his right hand that I couldn't see, and he lifted his other hand to reach for me. I immediately jerked back in fear.

"Let me see you," He ordered with impatience. "I'm not going to hurt you... yet."

It didn't sound promising. But still, I'd rather get it over with now than make it harder for myself in the long run. I crawled forward again to seat myself in front of him, and this time when he reached for me I didn't jerk away. His hand gripped the edge of my face lightly, but the touch was hot on my skin for some reason. I felt a blush burning into my face, which was embarrassing of itself because I had no idea why I was blushing and then I knew that he saw me blushing which was even more embarrassing.

Jacobi raised the object in his hand. I could see now it was just a small miniature flashlight. He beamed the small light into my left eye first and then the right. Then he moved my face to the side in order to examine the area where I knew Vincent had delivered that painful blow. Remembering the crack, I wondered how I didn't just die immediately.

"How do you feel? Any pain?" He asked almost professionally. I shook my head slightly.

While he examined for damage, I watched Jacobi's serious set face and tried to distinguish what he was thinking. I knew he didn't like me because I was Zachary Monet's daughter. He wanted to ultimately kill me, or at least torture me until near death and let Corentine finish me off. Perhaps he wanted to carve a bit of artwork out of my body first. When he looked at me, did his hatred start planning out each cut and yearn for every scream? Was he excited for the day when he could present the leftovers to his nemesis?

I had begun shaking in fear without realizing it. Jacobi let go of my face and leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest before staring at me intensely. I couldn't bring myself to be courageous enough to stare back, so I went back to looking at the walls around us.

"How'd you know about blinding Vincent?" His tone was suspicious, like always.

"I... I read it in a book," I admitted truthfully. It sounded made up. "Do you think I'm lying?" Jacobi made a noise in his throat, like a short hum but didn't answer my question otherwise.

"What book?"

I hesitated. Would Xander and Aveline be in trouble if I admitted the truth? Would I be hurt if I didn't? Was I more concerned for them than for my own well-being? Did that even make any sense? I began picking at my fingernails in anxiety, trying to keep from looking directly at Jacobi.

"You won't hurt them, will you? If I tell you?"

Jacobi tilted his head curiously. "Would you care?" He obviously knew who I was talking about.

"Yes," I muttered quietly. He made that noise again, similar to 'hmmm', and I finally looked at him. "I'm not lying. I suck at lying."

"I didn't say you were," He replied, a smile tugging at his lips. It stunned me. I was so used to seeing complete hatred painted on his face. Amusement made him look like an entirely different person. Was this a trick? "I give you my word that I will not punish the Eastmunds."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek with my head ducked shyly, looking at my hands once again. Sure, he gave me his word, but really how much does that mean to a person in my situation? Then again, it wasn't like I wouldn't be forced to tell him everything if he said he would murder Aveline and Xander in their sleep. I inhaled deeply, trying to relax and failing miserably.

"The Biology of Vampyre. It said that... when a vampire's fangs are extended, the pupils expand in order to heighten their senses to full extent. I thought... maybe if you shined a light in a vampire's eyes then it would be... effective," I was nervous admitting that I had read something and immediately thought of a way to harm their kind. What if he took that the wrong way?

"Why did you read a book about our kind?" There was that suspicious tone again.

"Not because I'm a spy or anything," I quickly responded, grasping my knees nervously. "Aveline told me about... about her and Xander and coteries and... and mates and Royals. It sounded so... interesting. But they didn't want to spend the rest of their life explaining it to me so they gave me books to read..." I hesitated. I hadn't meant to cue him in on the fact that I'd been given multiple books. I swear I'd be the worse spy ever.

"I've only read... A History of Immortals, The Biology of Vampyre, and The Social Science of Vampires... you know, about spiritual bonds and stuff. I mean, they gave me Civil Rights and Laws as Passed by Royals and one about human slavery. There was that vampire hunter book, but don't worry. They took it away before I got to read it. Really, you could take them back I wouldn't mind I was just... curious... I guess..." I was completely rambling now. I bit down on my tongue to hold the mass amounts of senseless words from leaving my mouth.

When Jacobi didn't respond for an awkward amount of time, I dared a glance in his direction. He was leaning forward now with his elbows on his knees and his palms pressed together against his mouth and chin as if he was praying. Only his intense golden brown stare was still on my frame. I felt that blush rising to my cheeks again and crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

"What?" I whispered.

"Vincent could have easily killed you. Actually, if I hadn't healed you, you would've died," He lowered his hands to his knees and leaned closer. I wanted to inch away, but I held still. "What I'm trying to figure out is why you bothered stopping him at all?"

Wasn't that the question? Why did I leap into death's path so quickly? And that without thinking a second thought? It was instinct, wasn't it? Instinct towards what, though? Had I felt a need to protect Jacobi himself? Or had it just been a knee-jerk reaction to seeing someone attacking another person?

"He was going to kill you," I said quietly, uncertain and confused. I shook my head of all the questions buzzing through it. "I don't know. I don't even know how I did it. One second I was there, in Aveline's arms and the next I was in front of Vincent. Is it because I'm a Monet?"

Immediately, Jacobi's eyes darkened and his face became guarded. Good job, Elysia. You reminded him of what you are. He leaned away from me, his molten golden eyes burning my skin. I felt like I was losing the ability to breathe once again.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, tightening my grip around my chest. I wasn't sure what I was apologizing for, except that I had made him angry again.

"You saved my life," His words were sharp and surprising, "My back was turned and Vincent is known for being stealthy. I wouldn't have seen the stake coming. It was careless and foolish of me. If you hadn't stopped him, my entire coterie would have been lost."

He suddenly had my face in his grip, tilting my head up to look at him. I lost my breath. I could feel my heart pulsing rapidly throughout my body. But his expression wasn't angry and his grip wasn't cruel. They were soft and gentle.

"For this, I thank you. I'm thanking you. Elysia," He said determinedly. Hearing my name from his lips for the first time sent a chill throughout me. What concerned me was that it was a pleasant chill. It was like hearing a beautifully sung note that sings to your every nerve. My name said so softly by the voice of a man who'd frightened me from the second I'd met him struck the sense from me.

"When I kill you, I will make it quick and painless," Jacobi stated honorably, essentially killing all previous thought of soft words and pleasant feelings. For a moment, I was stunned by his words. And then I was pissed. Without thinking, I slapped his hand away from my face.

"Wow, thanks so much, oh Master of Nobility. That's exactly what I had hoped for," I snapped sarcastically. I stood up and moved away from the bed to the door. "Am I allowed to go back to my guards so that I can attend to their every need? Or should I just throw myself off the building and save everyone the trouble?" Even I was stunned by my sudden daring, or rather stupidity.

I was abruptly shoved with my chest against the door, nearly losing my breath. Then his grip on my arms turned me around to face him before shoving me against the door once again. There was the rage I'd been missing at this point. For good reason, it scared me, but I could feel a sense of courage building against this man. I didn't cower or shake underneath him. Instead, I fashioned an extremely underused glare to respond to his with.

"You're ungrateful," Jacobi growled deeply, his heated glare burning against mine, "You have no idea what I had planned to do to you."

I indicated my head to the wood carvings about the room. "I'm sure I would have made a lovely canvas," I retorted sharply.

"You would have," He trailed his fingers under my shirt and over the flesh above my ribs suddenly. I gasped and blushed deeply before struggling to squirm away from him. "Perhaps you still will be if you continue insulting my generosity."

"Maybe you should look up the word generosity." I was breathless from my rage and his invasive touches, but then his fingertips touched just the right spot over my ribs and a burst of laughter escaped my throat. I squealed and tried to shove away his hand. I hated being ticklish!

Jacobi immediately moved away from me as though I had physically shocked him. My entire body burned intensely, probably beet red at this point. I felt absolutely mortified. With this in mind, I curtsied, and then I struggled with the doorknob before I bolted from the room.

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Random Q&A:

Are you going to incorporate Romance into your story at any point?

Yes, I am.

I'm going back to sleep now. :3