Edmond

Later, after Ysanne had finished her bath, and moved the empty tub to a corner of the room, they sat in front of the fire together, backs leaning against the foot of the bed, basking in the glow of the ever-present flames.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Edmond asked, bolstering his courage.

Ysanne gave him a speculative look. "You may. I won't guarantee that I'll answer, though."

That was fair enough.

Edmond took a deep breath. "How did you move on from the death of your husband?"

A quick blink was the only indication that he'd caught her off guard.

"I know you didn't love him the way he loved you, but he was still important to you, and his death must have come as a terrible blow," Edmond rushed on, hoping he hadn't offended her.

"It was," said Ysanne slowly. "I may not have been in love with him, but he was still my future, and in an instant that future was gone."

It hadn't been that way for Lucy. She had died slowly, painfully, and Edmond had been forced to watch, wishing there was anything he could do to save her, and knowing there wasn't. It wasn't even as if she had had his undivided attention – his brother had fallen ill at the same time, and Edmond had been torn between tending to them both. Then his mother succumbed to the disease, taking to her bed a day before Lucy died. Two days later, Edmond's brother followed. After another week, both his sisters went into the grave.

"Richart always wanted me to be happy. When he died, I grieved deeply for him, but he would not have wanted me to spend my life mourning. He would have wanted me to find someone else to make me happy." She briefly touched his arm, her touch cool. "If Lucy loved you, she would want you to be happy too."

Was there any invitation in her words, or was she just trying to reassure him?

"But what if she's the only woman I'm meant to love?" Edmond asked.

"Meant to? How do you mean?"

"Marriage is supposed to be permanent."

Ysanne spread her palms. "Sometimes life has other plans. And marrying someone doesn't necessarily mean you love them. When I was human, all my friends were expected to marry good husbands, but that doesn't mean they had to love those husbands."

"Did any of them?"

"I believe there was one girl who had the good fortune of marrying a man she desperately loved. The rest of us were simply lucky enough to marry men that we didn't loathe."

"I did love her," Edmond said, twisting them hem of his shirt between his fingers.

"I'm sure you did."

"But what if she's the only love I'll ever feel?"

Ysanne laughed a little, the firelight playing along the curve of her throat and making inky shadows pool in the hollows of her collar-bone.

"Oh, Edmond. I have loved many times over the years, and even when I lose those people, I know that I will love again one day. I hope you will too. I hope that you will meet another woman, and you will fall in love with her, and you will marry and have many children. I will not insult your love for Lucy, but it will not be your only love."

Edmond had assumed that his future lay with Lucy, and after he'd lost her, he hadn't been able to imagine any future at all.

Now he was here with Ysanne, and everything was different. He had met another woman, and though he couldn't honestly say that he was in love with Ysanne, he did desperately want her, like an ache in his bones, and perhaps that would become love one day.

But Ysanne would never have children with him.

She would never die.

Did that matter?

He didn't know, and he was so confused that his head was starting to hurt.

Ysanne reached out and poked the fire, rearranging some smouldering logs, and when she sat back, there was a strange look on her face.

"You asked me once who I was grieving for, but I wasn't ready to talk about it," she said. "I think, perhaps, I am ready now."

"His name was Julien," Ysanne said, and Edmond didn't miss the small smile that played at the edges of her lips. "And I truly loved him, the way Richart had always loved me. He knew what I was, and he didn't care. Usually, when people uncover our true natures, they think us monsters, but Julien thought I was a miracle."

Edmond rather thought she was a miracle too, but he kept quiet.

"We met in 1633, so long after Richart had died. I had taken many lovers in that time, and I had even loved some of them, but he was the first one that I really wanted to share my life with. But I didn't want to marry him."

"Why not?"

Ysanne gave him a wry look. "This world is not always kind to women. As Richart's widow, I discovered many rights that I had not had as his wife, including the right to own this house. If I married again, I would lose those rights. I would again belong to a husband, and I would not allow that."

She poked the fire again, perhaps gathering her thoughts.

"But I suppose that was not the real reason. After all, as far as the world knew, I had died a long time ago. I have been passing myself off as my own descendants ever since. The truth is that I was afraid to marry Julien. When he first asked for my hand, he did not know what I was. He knew I was different, of course, but that only made him want me more. He knew I loved him and he was surprised when I declined his proposal. I saw then that I had two choices: I could preserve my secret and leave him, or I could tell him the truth. You must understand the seriousness of this decision – humans do not always take kindly to things they don't understand. You saw the reaction of the thieves that attacked me when we first met. They had most likely planned to kill me anyway, but when they realised that I wasn't human, they wanted to kill me even more. I loved Julien, but when he found out what I was, I knew there was a chance he would turn from me in disgust."

Edmond didn't know what to say to that.

He had grown used to Ysanne and all the incredible things she could do, but what if, before their engagement, Lucy had told him she was a vampire? Could he honestly say that it would have had no effect on how he felt about her?

He didn't know.

"But Julien didn't care. He still loved me, still wanted to marry me, and over the next year, he asked me three more times. Eventually I said yes, right here in this house. We married in secret, and then returned here to start our lives properly. But in 1635, France declared war on Spain, and Julien felt it was his duty to fight alongside his fellow countrymen."

Ysanne's face darkened and her hands curled into fists in her lap.

"I begged him not to. One thing you learn as a vampire is just how fragile humans are, how easily they die. I had already lost one husband to war, and I was terrified of losing Julien too."

Edmond already knew where this story was headed, and his heart clenched in sympathy.

"Julien didn't listen. He insisted he had to do his duty by his king, and he swore that he would return to me once the fighting was done. But he didn't. He died barely a week into the war, just a few weeks into our marriage, and he took my heart with him," Ysanne said.

She blinked, and a single reddish tear slid down her cheek.

Edmond gasped a little to see it, and Ysanne roughly wiped it away.

"Julien has been dead for a long time, and my heart still breaks for him. It feels as though I will never love again, but time has a way of making all wounds seem more bearable. I hope that, one day, I will find love again," she said.

But not now.

She didn't say it, but Edmond heard it nonetheless.

Maybe Ysanne did feel something for him, but she could not love him. Not yet, anyway.

But as quickly as the hope died in his chest, it sparked to life again.

Ysanne wasn't ready to love again now, but by her admission she would be one day.

Surely Edmond could wait, especially when he still didn't fully understand his own feelings – he needed to untangle them before broaching the subject of what Ysanne felt.

For the first time, he thought he truly understand Richart.

Even if Ysanne never felt anything for him, Edmond was content to stay here with her, forever. It wouldn't matter if she never loved him in that way, they could still be happy together. Richart had chosen a content life rather than one without her, and Edmond understood that now.

Ysanne shook her head, until her hair fell about her face, hiding her expression. "I haven't talked about this to anyone in so long. Julien and I had human friends, but I left them all behind when he died. I left everyone behind. I left this house behind."

"Why did you come back?"

"I wanted to plant a tree for Julien, just as I did for Richart when he died."

So Ysanne hadn't been talking to thin air this morning. She'd been talking to that tree, planted in memory of her first husband.

"The apple tree outside the door," Edmond guessed.

Ysanne nodded.

"Why haven't you planted it yet?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I'm not ready to say goodbye."

Edmond bit his lip, unsure if he was about to overstep a boundary. "You said that Richart would have wanted you to find love and happiness after him. Wouldn't Julien have wanted the same thing?"

"Yes," said Ysanne, her voice barely a whisper.

"Planting his tree doesn't have to mean saying goodbye to him," Edmond said. "But it might be good for you. You've been carrying this grief around inside for so long; maybe planting Julien's tree will be the first step towards healing your heart."

Ysanne said nothing.

"If you need me to help, I'll be here whenever you need me," Edmond said, putting his hand on top of hers.

Still she didn't say anything, but after a long moment, she laced her fingers through his.

A little more time passed that evening, and Edmond ate a simple meal of smoked meat and hard cheese. When he was done, he brushed the crumbs from his hands, and turned so he was facing Ysanne on the floor.

"You need blood," he said. "You said you wouldn't take a drop of mine until I was better, and now I'm better."

She started to protest, but for once he was the one to silence her.

"You need this," he said.

Ysanne's eyes drifted to his neck, and her throat moved as she reflexively swallowed. She wanted this, but she was hesitant.

"You need your strength," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"So do you."

Another pause.

"What do you want in return?" Ysanne asked.

Edmond was momentarily confused, then he remembered the diamond necklace that Ysanne had given him the first time they'd met. The first time she had bitten him. He hadn't thought about it in weeks – it was no use to him out here.

Ysanne had other expensive pieces – though fewer now that she had sold and bartered some to feed him – and once, Edmond would have jumped at the chance to get his hands on such wealth. Now he didn't care. He and Ysanne already had everything they needed.

"I don't want anything," he said. "Except to know that you are well."

Ysanne touched the side of his neck, her fingertips lightly tracing the path of the veins beneath his skin. Red sparked in her eyes.

"I want this," Edmond whispered.

The first time she had bitten him, he'd been too cold, too exhausted to register what was happening. Now he wanted to know how it felt. He wanted to know that he could help her, the way she'd helped him.

He'd seen her rip into men's throats with those fangs of hers, but they didn't frighten him. Ysanne would never hurt him.

Tipping his head to one side, he swept his hair out of the way, baring his throat.

Ysanne swallowed again.

"It's alright. I trust you," Edmond whispered.

Finally, Ysanne leaned in.