05: The Unlikeliest of Conversations

"Do you know why I chose you?" The stranger asked. Amaris shifted uncomfortably.

"You chose me because you wanted to make love to me."

"Did I now?" The stranger looked surprised. "I thought I was here to kill someone." Amaris stood, paralyzed with fear as the stranger pulled out a knife. It glinted, the steel tip shining in the candlelit room, lavishly decorated with many furs.

"If you intend on killing me, although I do not know the reason, I would suggest you get it over and done with so that I do not have to clean up the mess in the morning," Amaris tried to act fearless, but she wasn't sure that her act was very convincing.

It was as if all the plans that were created for this deceptively simple mission with incorrect information, and Ivailo was having to make things up on the fly. He hated the feeling. He never loved it when he did not have a plan, and he especially despised that he had a plan for this little errand and this girl, this wench had somehow torn an enormous hole in his plan as if it were a sheet of cotton, rendering it useless. What ever Ivailo had expected the Willow girl to say, it certainly was not this.

"What is your name?" He asked, intrigued by this girl who stood in front of him.

"Amaris," she said, lowering her head as if her name was something that she was ashamed of. Ivailo went to her.

"Are you ashamed of your name?" He asked, lifting her head up so that he could look into her beautiful eyes, more blue than the ocean.

"No, sir." She moved her head out of his grasp and continued to look at the ground.

"Then why do you look as if you are?" The question seemed to startle the girl, Amaris. She lifted her eyes from the floor.

"If you want to know, I am ashamed of not who I am, but what I am. It is improper for me to look you in the eye because I am the lowest of the low. I am a barmaid. I am a Wench. I am a vampire. Compared to you, a Lord, a Werewolf, I am nothing. And it is not as if I do not deserve my lot in life. It is not as if all vampires do not deserve to be at the bottom of society."

"Why do you say such things?" Ivailo asked.

"Us vampires once imprisoned you werewolves. We treated you as slaves. And we deserved to have the tables turned on us." Amaris returned her gaze to the floor, silence filling the air. It was a while before either of them spoke. Amaris stood, patient and obedient as she had learned how to do over her lifetime of servitude. Ivailo motioned for her to sit on the bed next to him, and she dutifully sat down next to him.

"I had never thought that a vampire, not less one that was born after I took the throne, would have thoughts such as these," Ivailo mused out loud. Amaris shot him a look of pure surprise.

"You are Emperor Ivailo Garr?" She asked, feeling even more self-conscious of her torn garments.

"Indeed, I am." The werewolf, the emperor, nodded, looking at the ground as if he was ashamed of the title he had earned. Amaris stood up and curtsied deeply, feeling her knees touch the wooden floor.

"Your Majesty, please forgive me for not seeing who you are and behaving inappropriately."

"You may rise, Amaris." Ivailo said, a somber tone permeating his voice. "Do you know how I became the emperor?" He asked. Amaris shook her head. Ivailo drew a long breath, as if he was trying to breathe with a heavy weight on his chest. "Please sit, and I will tell you why you were forced into something reminiscent of the slavery that I experienced." Amaris got off her knees and sat back on the bed.

"I was born in a time where being a werewolf was to be an indentured servant for a wealthy family or, at least with myself and my sisters, the royal family. Compared to other families, the royal family was almost a death sentence. Not because the children were picky, or we were overworked, but because the head of the household, the Emperor, your father, never made sure that he cared for his servants." Ivailo took a deep breath. "So I killed him. I killed the Emperor, who would have been your father."

Amaris felt as if everything that she had ever known was a glass cage that was shattering all around her, glass covering the floor. She collapsed to the floor and let out a gasp, as if she was struggling to breathe. She was once a princess. A princess of a regime that actively spread hate and was cruel to so many people. And standing in front of her was the man that had brought the regime to its knees, giving freedom to the very people that had once placed the food on her table.

"You may take your leave." Ivailo said with a shaky breath as he stood, approached the dresser and from a small leather pouch, pulled a handful of gold coins. Approaching Amaris, he deposited the coins into her frail and gnarled hands. He helped her off the floor, and she went to the door.

"Your Majesty, may I ask a question?" She asked when she had approached the door.

"Yes."

"Why are you here? I doubt you came all this way just to tell me about my heritage."

"You are right. While I killed the last emperor of my free will, the Lords of the High Council forced me to kill all of your siblings and are now forcing me to kill you." Ivailo said, exhaling.

"So why didn't you, when you had the chance?"

"I believe you asked for one question." he shot Amaris a cheeky grin. "But I will answer, anyway. I do not want to be that type of person who persecutes those who are under me and tortures anyone that might challenge me. I want to be loved by the people, not feared like the last emperor was." Amaris nodded. here was a man that wanted to be seen as more than the title, to be seen as an outstanding leader.

Amaris went downstairs, clutching the gold in her hand. There had to be enough to buy her freedom, she was sure of it.

"Have a good night? I'll show you a good night!" A patron shouted, trying to earn Amaris's attention. She took a deep breath and continued walking towards the counter, where she counted out how many gold coins Ivailo had given her. Montego, having significantly sobered up from his previously intoxicated state, came over to the bar.

"Twenty gold coins! You must have really pleased him." The slimy cheat said smoothly, leaning across the countertop.

"Is it enough to purchase my freedom?" She asked meekly.

"Yes, it is. But why would you leave when you have such a good life here?"

"But I don't have a good life here. I want to leave. I want to have my freedom, and to live my life outside of Thornhollow." Amaris admitted.

"Okay then. Since I cannot convince you, this much money can afford to give you your freedom and a room for a night. You can afford to stay in your old room tonight. Tomorrow, I want you out of this inn. Understood?"

"Yes. I promise I will not be here tomorrow, before lunchtime."

"Good. Now get out of my sight!" Montego barked, shooing her away.

Every time Ivailo tried to sleep, it did not go well. Dreams of her, Amaris, plagued his sleep. No matter which way he tossed and turned, she would never be far from his thoughts.

I need to get these thoughts out, he realised, reaching to re-light the candles and pull a sheet of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot out of his bag. If this Amaris was going to keep him up, then the least that he could do was figure out why. Why was she not scared of him? Why had she been so calm when he had told her he had been the killer of her family? Why did he care so much? He wrote these questions on the parchment, feeling his head getting clearer as he wrote the questions out. He would have to deal with these questions in the morning, he decided when he felt he could no longer eek questions out of his head. He blew the candle out and tried to go back to sleep.