Devareaux only took the blood every two or three days, and we would have sex in between. A lot of sex. At least two or three times. I couldn’t complain. He always left me feeling wanted and satiated. Always. But I didn’t understand why he didn’t take the blood every day. I had been taught it was natural to take the blood daily. Devareaux often looked tired so I wasn’t sure if my blood was enough to satiated him. Was there something wrong with my blood? I couldn’t believe that because he always acted like a starving man when it was time to take the blood. He often said, “You smell delicious.”
I had a month to prepare for the gala so I engaged Miss Gloria in a conversation.
“What do I need to know?”
She had looked uncertain for a moment, but then straightened herself and took my hand. She gently pulled me to the one of the smaller living room areas. I was surprised when Renald peeked in, looking curious.
Miss Gloria noticed him and narrowed her eyes. “The Madam has asked about the aristocrats and galas. I am merely giving her what information I have.”
Renald’s face pinched a bit, but he nodded and came to stand inside the room near the wall.
Next thing I know, Nova, Elise, and Chauffie were seated around me as I sat on a loveseat sofa with Miss Gloria.
Miss Gloria spoke up first. “Okay, so this is what I had observed when the Sir has brought any of the aristocrats to the house, which isn’t very often, thank goodness.”
We all chuckled. Technically, we were all low blood borns, but as the staff to a high blood born, they were slightly more elevated in status than I was. Or than I had been before I became the blood wife of a high blood born.
“Only talk when spoken to. The women are more for uplifting the men.”
“Don’t smile too much, don’t laugh too loud, and don’t say too much when you do talk.”
We all looked at Renald, who shrugged.
Chauffie snickered. “He’s right though. The aristocrats look on their wives as an addition that should make their status more valuable.”
Elise stood, and walked gracefully, yet stiffly across the room. “”And try to look like your body is locked up when you walk, like your not flexible or fluid.” Elise was petite like me, with a darker complexion with light brown hair that was cut short to just under her ears. She had large brown eyes.
I chuckled and Nova giggled. Nova stood next, “And make sure you swoosh your hair back over your shoulder at least once.” Nova’s medium brown hair was slightly past her shoulders, which she flipped back from her shoulder with a slight toss of her head. Nova was a little taller, but looked a bit more awkward as she was incredibly thin with pale white skin. Her eyes were smaller, and you could barely see any other color than black from them.
I laughed at her.
We all started to laugh and joke about the things the aristocrats did, and I was shocked to see even Renald soften a bit to the conversation. He remained standing, but contributed to the conversation.
I did learn some new things, but they left me more apprehensive than before. But I had a month to learn and practice my walk.Within a month, I would be presented as the first low blood born to be blood matched to an aristocrat.
Chapter 7
Odessa’s POV
I was running late for the gala event for the aristocrats. I wasn’t going to lie and say I wasn’t extremely nervous. It had been three months of living with Devareaux as his blood wife, and he had not yet shared me in society. Or met his family. I wasn’t sure if that was an aristocratic thing, or if it was something deeper, darker. I had always equated it to Devareaux being an aristocrat, and they did things differently than suits and workers.
He had insisted on our driver, Chauffie, dropping me off and meeting him at the gala event, as he had to make an appearance early on. I didn’t understand why he didn’t just have me come earlier with him, but again, I didn’t feel it was my place to state this. I was still learning where I fit in, being so low on the status chain and him so high. This was almost unheard of. We were both trying to figure out what that meant for us, I’m sure.
I was in the long, silky silver dress that I did not feel the least bit comfortable in, but I pushed myself out of the car as soon as it arrived at the event location. I plastered on a polite smile, and attempted to be as graceful as I could. I must have pulled it off as several people looked my way and nodded. No smiles, just nods. I did learn that was the aristocratic way. I nodded back ever so slightly.
The heels clicked on the marble floors as I walked through the entrance of the grand room. The place looked more like a museum with its blank white walls, large statues of prominent aristocrats from our history, and golden trim along some of the borders. It was luxurious yet gaudy. I manage to walk gracefullythrough the entryway as I followed others in front of me towards the great room where the event would be held. Most of the guests were dressed in white, silver, or black colors. Men were in suits with ties, women in glamorous and, likely, very expensive dresses. My dress had been expensive too, but I felt like I was wearing the cheapest version of the dresses of others in this room. I felt extremely out of place with my long, black hair flowing down my back in waves. Most of the women had their hair in up-dos. Those that did not, had short hair.
Once I reached the entrance to the grand room, I caught my breath. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I literally couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. I almost gasped trying to take in a breath as I stared across the room at one of the very few women in the room wearing a color other than white, silver, or black. In fact, the woman’s dress was bright red, like a beacon to attract attention. And standing next to her with his hand on her waist, was Devareaux, with a wide grin on his face. He was looking down at her with what appeared to be affection.
Is this why he wanted me to come alone? To show me he had found another to replace me? Why couldn’t he have done this at our home? Wait. But is it our home? If what he is doing now is what he wants, then no, it is notourhome, buthishome. He should have told me he didn’t want me as his blood bride. I would have left. I would have returned home and continued my working life. It would have destroyed me, but I would have honored his choice. But this? This was a public announcement. He was ashamed of me, of his blood wife. I had not chosen to be his blood wife. The blood had chosen that for us. But I would have respected him more for choosing another blood bride if that had been his intent. The pain in my heart was excruciating, making my head throb and my vision begin to blur.
Devareaux’s action made it a point that I was unwelcomed here. Just as I was about to turn and walk away, his head lifted andhis eyes met mine. His smile did not dim, his hand did not move from this other woman. If anything, his smile seemed to grow wider. I looked from his eyes, to his hands on her waist, and back to his eyes again. He did not move or make any attempts to come to me. So, I moved first. I turned without waiting, and returned out through the front entrance. I was able to get one of the staff outdoors to call my driver back. I couldn’t hear or feel anything but numbness. When Chauffie returned, I slipped into the backseat and simply said, “Please return me to the estate.”
Not home. The estate. Because that’s all it really was.
Chauffie tried to ask me questions, but I could no longer respond. I was moving without thinking, without feeling.
I knew what I had to do. What I would do. He made his choice. It was loud and clear. Publicly so. Once we arrived back at the estate, I asked Chauffie to stay in the car and wait for me.
