Penny stared down at her hand where she held the white porcelain teacup, the red liquid looking somewhere pink after it was mixed with milk with repeated stirring of the spoon. She was sure she wasn’t going to drink it but so was Grace who stood to wait for Penny to drink it.
“We don’t have all day. Drink it quick girl. It isn’t something you haven’t seen,” said the older vampire. If Penny was allowed to glare she would have done it already and if given more privilege she would have made the vampiress drink the blood. Then she remembered the time when Grace had twisted her arm painfully. Thinking about it, she wondered how she was going to get through this.
She doubted any human ever willingly tried drinking blood unless their mouth bled. Less having blood mixed with milk made her stomach twist. As much as she didn’t mind that vampires drank blood to survive, Penny wasn’t into drinking any blood. If Grace thought she would drink it, then she was so wrong.
“Master Damien said to bring the blood tea to him right after preparation. My apologies but I need to take it to him right away,” said Penny placing her feet the other way to only have Grace step forward.
“Where do you think you are going Cinderella? Or more precisely the cinderella who is still a slave.”
To hell, do you want to join? Penny bit back the words that tried to slip out of her mouth. She had to keep her mouth sealed just to make sure she didn’t blurt out anything that would put her in jeopardy, “I said take a sip from it. The last thing I want is a traitor who has tried invading into my home.”
Was there a way to say no? Was it alright to yell for Damien’s help? Clearly if one were to see from the point of view of an outsider, the vampiress had a point in looking after her brother, where she didn’t want any ill harm to be caused. After all, Penny was a slave who could take revenge on Damien for he was a vampire while her life was trapped with no pinch of freedom.
“What are you hesitating for?” asked the older vampiress, Grace’s mother who gave Penny a suspicious look now. Penny stood under the two sharp gaze of the vampiress.
“It seems that you haven’t understood what pain feels like the last time I twisted your arm. Let me pull it off your shoulder so that you get some clarity on how to obey the mistress of this house without question,” Grace took a step forward, her hand ready to grab Penny when Maggie who had been passing by spoke in surprise,
“What is with all the hustle?”
Penny looked at Maggie with hope where the eldest Quinn child smiled at Penny before her eyes fell on her younger sister, “This slave girl poisoned the drink,” declared Grace, her eyes looking at her accusingly and she had to shake her head. Penny bowed her head and said, “I haven’t meddled with the blood tea that is for master Damien. I would never do such a thing.”
“Why won’t you take a sip to prove it wrong? Your hesitation is proof enough that you have done something during the preparation.”
“It wasn’t me but the butler who prepared it,” Penny tried to put some facts in front of this spoilt vampiress but the girl was hell-bent on making her drink.
“So what if the butler prepared it. You were the one who brought it, who knows what you did in that gap.”
Maggie interrupted their talk, stepping closer to them where she herself held a teacup, her lips red as if she were enjoying her own cup of blood tea which had been prepared a while ago, “Why do you suspect the slave, sister?”
“Why shouldn’t we?” Grace responded back with the same vigor. Crossing her arms across her chest she stared at Penny with scrutinizing gaze, “Did you look at her,” the young vampiress stared at the dress Penny wore right now.
“You look much better than Grace, Penny,” complimented Maggie which was enough for Grace’s face to fall. Her mother frowned hearing this, looking at Maggie with a distaste, “It is one of my older dresses that I used to wear a few years ago.”
Fleurance sent out glare to her stepdaughter, “What do you mean by better than Grace, Maggie? Are you trying to say that this lowly slave is above your own sister? I don’t know what your mother taught but you need to know the slaves are always beneath us.”
Maggie smiled, a sweet smile that looked harmless, “Of course, I know that. My mother taught us well about the slaves, servants and the higher-ups. But can you deny that the slave right here looks prettier than my sweet sister?”
“A slave is a slave. No matter how you see it. And if you aren’t interested in your brother’s best interest I request you to step out of my way while I continue to be the dutiful sister,” said Grace before going back to the topic, “Drink or I can make you drink myself.”
Penny stepped up to speak for herself, stating the fact, “Humans don’t consume blood, Lady Grace.”
“Says you and there is a first time for everything. So take a sip now. You are not only wasting mine but everyone else’s.”
“Little mouse,” came Damien to stand at the start of the stairs above them. Penny whose shoulders had been stiff earlier relaxed slightly. Walking down like a king who owned the mansion and the rest being meager servants which included his family, he said, “I sit there waiting in the room for my blood tea to find you here chatting leisurely with the women of this house.”
“Lady Grace wanted me to drink the blood tea which was made for you,” Penny spoke with her eyes looking below Damien’s neck where he had unbuttoned his shirt while avoiding to look straight in his eyes while also stalling the other gazes in the room which was right next to her.
Damien who stared at Penny for good seconds shifted his eyes to look at Grace who stood behind Penny. He tilted his head to ask her with a simple question of, “Why?”
Grace knew she had limited time before Damien came searching for his little slave. He often kept a close eye on his belongings which only made the younger vampiress itch to break and tear them apart. Though until now she hadn’t found the opportunity she had hoped to break the girl the way she wanted. The girl was an eyesore, especially the way she looked right now with her older sister Maggie’s clothes and her hair made. There was a certain way that the slave looked at her which made her want to tear her limbs one after another.
It was as if Damien had dolled this girl just to mock her and the women in this house. To make it worse even Maggie believed that this girl was much better looking than her!
