The Widow of Craxton Park.

[Tiny Dancer]

Few ever dared to go this deep into the darkened forest after the sun had set. Only the most courageous or stupid would hire a coach to take them north of Flinders Peak. But there had been a change in the guard, and while the roads were often only used by farmers that needed to get their crops and herds to market, it would be now that a blackened coach that was pulled by a team of four jet black horse, galloped along the gravel track. Death, which was not uncommon to the down trodden, happened at the Craxton Park. Whispers from the local village had spoken of how the Late Lord's estate had been to a left to a mysterious cousin, who had been out of the country for well over decade. The red satin curtains that lined the windows, hid the face of this newest heir to the Lord's estate.


Would they suffer...the same fate?


And what of the young widow, that had not left Craxton since the funeral? Yet another mystery to be unraveled.

 

[ricegoddess]

This was possibly the stupidest idea in the whole world. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it made it to the top five at least. Children always joke about walking down the path heading to the north towards the "haunted" estate, even daring their friends to take the journey. Of course, no one ever went through with the dares. Except today. Ethan anxiously gripped his dark trousers, releasing it and then gripping it again. He can hear his friends howling at him, trying to "encourage" him to walk down the path and to "check things out for them". Ethan was terrified of the forest but he never admitted it aloud. It's just a scary story, right? It's not really... Cursed, right? Rumors always circled Ethan's village about murders, ghosts, curses, and deaths related to this estate in the dark forest. The story was always changing, so no one ever knew what had actually happened to the Late Lord. And a bet was made today that Ethan would be the one to find out what happened and report back. When Ethan finally gathered up enough courage, he took a timid step onto the hard road, and then another... Before he knew it, he was far into the darkened forest. A lone crow's cry causes the young man to jump in fright, quickly looking around before continuing to walk slowly. He couldn't hear his friends' loud voices anymore, whether they ran away when his back was turned or he was just too far away, he didn't know. Glancing around the forest, the setting sun's lights only helped in creating large, intimidating shadows around Ethan. He wrapped his arms around himself, his short, dark blond hair being ruffled by a passing wind. His honey colored eyes dart at each subtle movement, darting at each sudden sound he hear. He shook because of the fact that he forgot to bring a light jacket with him, being cold in pale blue t-shirt, and also for the fact that was he was scared out of his mind.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

Amazing how much the landscape changes, just by the setting of the sun. Shadows stretch on forever, and this is also the time when the night creatures come out from their burrows and knotted stumps. Under the cloak of darkness, and only bathed by the moon's light when it peaked out from behind a grey cloud - the many small creatures went about their evening as per normal. But this place. This cursed place was not for the faint of heart. If the signage did not warn off the curious, than the narrowing of the path, and the overhanging branches that encroached upon the winding road only made the trip forward very hard going. Was someone going to dare to make it through? Children and the young at heart often egged on the weak, to test their spirit and their resolve. Tales told by travelers and merchants around the fires of the local inn - fueled by drink and bravado, were not favorable of the terrible Lord of Craxton Park. He did his farmers and workers no favors, and often kept pretty much to himself within the walls of his Manor. Only sending out his man servant to pay wages and arrange business dealings on his behalf. The more one keeps to themselves, the likelihood of gossip and innuendo spreading across the lands. He could be just a miserly recluse, but there were other events, strange and terrible that happened every time he returned from abroad. On his last trip, he did not return alone. Bringing with him a new wife. The only knowledge of her, was when she had come into town with a black veil to order a dress to be made at the seamstress. She already looked as though she was dressed for a funeral. It was not long after this time, that it was said that he passed on from this earth to the next. Though the villages were not welcome to the funeral. The hearse had passed through the town, with just the widow and the man servant following the hearse. Even then, her face was covered and it all seemed to be so strange. There was no autopsy, no word on how he died. Just a simple parchment hammered to a tree in the village square.


But back to this night, when a young lad decided to take his chances and see just how far he got, on the road to Craxton Hall.


He had long left his friends behind, and he carried no torch or light. His colorings however did illuminate in the light of the moon. Just enough to be seen by those with exceptional vision at night.


"Only the brave or foolish dare walk this path." It was a feminine voice, that spoke as the mist enveloped the roadway. A cool breeze nipping at the boy's neck. If he did turn, he would see the prettiest girl he had ever seen, though she had a haunting smile. Dark flowing hair that was tied back fashionably, and wearing a flowing black gown of the age.


"Which are you?" She asked.

 

[ricegoddess]

The young man felt a sharp chill run up his spine at her voice, slowly peeking over his shoulder at her. The images of haggard, old witches quickly dispel from his mind when his eyes fall on her, put off by her beauty. The question came back to his mind again, gathering up enough confidence in that moment to reply to her, "I-I'm brave enough to walk the path!" Ethan felt mild embarrassment at his stutter, but he took the moment to examine her appearance. Despite her dress blending in so well with the shadows and being shrouded by the sudden mist, he can still see her practically perfect figure clearly under the moonlight, and... Was that a sparkle in her eyes? He shivered at the realization, unsure whether the shine was a bad sign or a good one. He tugs on the sleeve of his tunic, having become nervous when they lock eyes for a brief moment, looking away quickly after. The quiet cry of a crow seems to mock his nervousness, but Ethan stands his ground, hesitantly speaking up again, "May.. I ask why you're out here? Are you also brave...?" Just pulling out questions that came quickly to his mind, he momentarily forgets about the cursed estate and its widow, shifting on his feet while he holds the edge of his sleeve, still trembling slightly from his nerves and the chill.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

If Florina had meant to startle the young man on his trip into the forest, she did a good job. Though, he may never admit his fear it was easy to tell by the way in which he stuttered out that he was in fact brave enough to walk this way. "Mhmmm." Was all that the strange woman said in return as though she was mocking his answer. Her crimson stained lips curved upward into a smile that was both wicked and fun. It was almost as though she enjoyed toying with the man. Funny how the moon's soft light brought out a sparkle in her eyes. Collecting the edges of her lace and silk skirt, she circled around the young man, looking him up and down, as though he was intriguing. It may well make him all the more nervous. A crow's call only added to the mix, making the scene even more bizarre. Ethan stood his ground however, and was bold enough to ask of her what she was doing out here. Why was she also brave? The reaction was for Florina to stop in her tracks and whip out an ornate black fan. Snapping it open with the flick of her wrist, and fluttering it about like one of those fine ladies of the royal court.


"I wouldn't say I am brave...just I prefer to walk beneath the light of the Moon. You see I am very fair and burn easy under the heat of the Sun. Think of this as my daily stroll." What she just said could have been taken a different way from what was offered. Perhaps there was more to the Widow of Craxton Hall then met the eye. She did have porcelain skin that seemed to be radiant underneath the starry night sky. It even heightened the colour of her eyes, and the red rouge of her cheeks. Almost like a fine china doll. Perfection. Yes that was the word you would use. Florina could see that the young man was feeling the cold, having just come out in a light tunic. It was enough to have Florina ask of him.


"Craxton is but a short walk up this road. Care for a night cap? A hot beverage?" The black haired vixen then lowered her fan closing it slowly and offering her gloved hand. Should he take it? Or did he need to know just who she really was?

 

[ricegoddess]

Her circling did make him more nervous than he already was. It almost felt like she was a predator hunting and cornering its prey. But he did perked up at the mention of her fair skin. It did make sense with how her skin glowed under the moonlight, looking incredibly smooth and soft to the touch. The color of her lips and her cheeks complimented her appearance well, making her look very beautiful in Ethan's eyes, but it was also a very sinister appearance. It made the young man uneasy, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her either way. Her movements were graceful and elegant, the fan being a nice touch. Craxton? The name rang bells in Ethan's mind, but he couldn't quite place where he heard the name from... He looks at her small, gloved hand, tempted by her beauty to accept her offer, but his heart thumped loudly and nervously. He didn't know who she was, but the hot beverage was very welcoming on the chilly night. "May I ask for a name at least?" Ethan looked back up at her face, "My name is Ethan..."

 

[Tiny Dancer]

How delicious. Florina thought, as she watched the young man's chest rise and fall sharply. Each breath he drew was making his heart beat faster. If it had been any louder, it would have echoed out from his chest. All this from the simple gesture of offering her hand for him to take. She noted how he appeared timid at her suggestion. Begging the question as to what her name was. This would unravel the mystery of her identity. Dare she keep him further in suspense? Curling in her bottom lip, she made out as though it was a great secret. Leaning forward to whisper her name so softly that he may barely hear it. "Lady Florina Craxton." Only when he had said his name, did she draw back with a cat like grace. Her bottom lip released from the bite of her teeth and it appeared more plump than before.


"Ethan. Such a wise choice of name by your parents." Her smile grew as she continued with a tit bit of trivia. "I do believe it means strong." Florina had to be the Queen of small talk. Knowing that the young man still may be wary, she lowered her hand and then snatched up the edge of her skirt, in order for her to be able to walk on without getting the lace edge caught on the ground. "Well, I am ready for that night cap. You are welcome to follow, or return to the village. I shan't tempt you further."





And with that, she continued on down the path, leaving the young man to his thoughts.


"Good eve, Ethan."





Strangely enough as she left the scene, so to did the rolling mist. It was almost as though it traveled with her.

 

[ricegoddess]

Lady Florina Craxton... Ethan thought, the name was very fitting for her he believed. He felt his cheeks grow warm at the indirect compliment of his name, unknowingly giving a tiny smile. But when she left, his heart relaxed its beating and his shivers reduced to trembles as his body is now only trying to keep him warm. He blinked his eyes, noticing how much clearer his surroundings became as the mist left with the Lady. Ethan didn't get a chance to wish her a good night, but he glances over his shoulder back towards his village, then looks back to where Lady Florina had walked. Would he follow her? He was tempted to, oh so very tempted to. The young man's mind was practically screaming at him to run since he had the chance, but his heart yearned to know more about the mysterious, beautiful woman he just met. Ethan had meet many women in his life, his parents always trying to set him up and even arrange marriages for him, but none of them ever stirred emotions in his heart like how Lady Florina did. He didn't understand what he felt, maybe it was fear, anxiousness? Or maybe even... Love? He shook his head at the silly thought, but he knew he felt something. He decided that he would go back home for the night and return the following night. Maybe fate would bring them back together, he thought hopefully. And maybe he would be smart enough to bring a small lantern with him next time, along with his leather-like vest. At that resolve, the young man nodded slightly and turned back to his village with almost a small skip in his step, the shadows and thin, gnarly trees no longer causing him fear as he walked. The lone crow that was mocking him earlier just watched Ethan this time, quietly observing before taking off into flight into the clear sky.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

Did the Widow of Craxton expect the young man to follow her so easy? She tested him to some extent, only to find he was still not sure of her - refusing to take her hand and be led into the unknown. That being Craxton Park. Few dare go past the wrought iron gates and come back. Even those making deliveries know that it is best to leave the parcels and the outer perimeter and ring the large bell, that alerts the man servant of the arrival of goods. This was part of the gossip of the town. Did Ethan realize that he was one of the first to actually speak to her? The Seamstress was on a confidentiality clause, if she wanted the Widow's business, and so she had to refrain from speaking about what they had discussed in the shop. Why would someone go to that extreme? It only adds to the mystery. And what of the new Heir? Since the late Lord's wife did not bare him a son, his estate and holdings went directly to the next in line among his family.


There were those that spoke of a black carriage that had passed through the town not long after the funeral, but it never left the estate. Did the Widow have something to do with this?


Florina's dress swept along behind her as she entered the grounds, the gates closing in behind her as though to lock her in. Few lights were seen in the darkened windows, but enough to light her way. Waiting at the entrance, was the former Lord's faithful servant and now the one and only that was to care for the Widow. He bowed low as she lifted her skirt enough to climb the stairs.


"Enjoy your walk, M'lady?" Curious to know why she was out so very late. Florina stopped, as though to ponder this very question. "I had no idea that the locals were so...nice." The way she said the last word was done with a mischievous tone. Bertie blinked. "You actually met one?" He knew that few dare venture down the dark forest road, as the gossip was enough to keep people away. Florina's eyes sparkled as she recanted in her mind, the meeting with the young man. "A young male. Handsome too. Almost had him come back for...a drink." There she went again. Speaking with double meanings. What she said, when mixed with that gleam, that smirk on her crimson lips was enough to make the man servant shudder. But what could he do? Did he want to end up like his Lordship?


"He turned you down, M'lady?" Bertrand was now going into dangerous territory, with his questioning - but he just had to know.


"Would you accept the offer of a night cap from a stranger, Bertie?" The Widow took out her fan, with the edge of the lace touching just under his chin, causing him to gulp. "Only if the stranger was you, M'lady" The Widow chuckled lightly at his response, and she gave his cheek a little...playful swat with her fan. "And that is why I keep you on. Now...get me a drink, and make sure its...freshly squeezed." The man servant bowed and raced inside as the Widow glanced back over her shoulder at the darkened forest, where she had met what she hoped would be her newest friend.


"You won't turn me down next time....Ethan."





Smiling to herself, she started up the stairs, the doors closing when she had gone through into the majestic foyer.

 

[ricegoddess]

The village was quiet when Ethan returned, everyone having gone to sleep while he was away. Maybe he was out longer than he thought? It only felt no more than an hour or two had passed, but it seemed he was well into the night when he arrived home. He quietly slips into his home so to not wake his parents and changed into his night garments before flopping onto his bed, heaving a heavy sigh. He felt physically exhausted but his mind was racing, thoughts constantly going back to his interaction with Lady Florina. He longed to take her gloved hand and hold it tightly, and he wasn't sure why. She gave off an aura that screamed at anyone sane to run, to stay away, to not draw near. But Ethan felt like there was something about her that made her... Intriguing. Fascinating. Even though he was scared of her when they first met, he wanted to get to know about her. The mysterious, unknown mixture of her auras made the young man even more curious about her, rather than being terrified after conversing slightly.


He tossed and turned that night, only finally managing to sleep once the sun came upon the horizon. His parents, unaware that he is home, continue their daily lives as if they didn't have a son to wonder about. News had spread around his village that he had wandered the forest, his friends claiming they had waited as long as they could for his return, but knew that he would never make it back. Of course, they only waited for about five minutes before being scared off by the creeping shadows from the forest, the cry of a lone crow being the final straw. The news spread like wildfire and eventually, false tales were created to accompany it. While Ethan slept peacefully in his room, the villagers told stories on how the Widow had trapped him in her estate, his screams being heard the prior night. Stories of how the path had a blood trail leading to his supposed prison, where he was made into a fine meal for the Widow and her "companions". Slightly believable stories to the wildly ridiculous ones circled the village as the sun came and went, Ethan opening his eyes to see the setting sun through his bedroom window.


He gave a quick stretch and changing back into his tunic and trousers, gathering a small parcel filled with bread and an apple, his leather vest that was lined with an unknown animal's fur, and a small lantern from his bedside table. Making sure there was enough oil, he lit the lantern, slipping out of his house before his parents returned home from their daily duties. No one saw him come and go, so no one could confirm the stories as true or false. But no one truly cared what happened to the young lad, and oddly enough, that included his parents. It was as if he was wiped from their minds or they were so quick to give up hope on him upon hearing the news. But Ethan didn't consider his family or his village. As a young adult, he was just another member of his society, another face in the crowd. He never had any close relationships with anyone, not even with his parents. He realized he was detached from them, and if one went missing, the mass would not take notice and just continue on with the cycle of life and death.


Ethan followed the path again, taking it slow as to let the sun hide behind the grassy hills and for the moon to peek up above the naked treeline. He felt his heart pounding anxiously again at the flickering shadows from his lantern, but he was determined to meet with the Lady again. He wanted to know more, even if it meant risking his life. Curiosity killed the cat.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

[media]



[/media]
Bertrand could be seen in the fading light of the sun's rays. It was as though he was the sole resident at Craxton Park during the daylight hours. As was his duty, he tended to the many rows of rose beds that featured the many shades of red. Oh the roses grow so beautifully within the ancient walls. Surely there was a secret to the earth that gave life to these exotic blooms. Carrying a small woven basket, he carefully cut one stem after another. Choosing only the most perfect of blooms for the Mistress of the Manor. ~Snip....Snip~ He handled the stems with care, for their thorns were so sharp that it could cut him with ease. Each flower he turned around ever skillfully, to check the petals for blemishes, before laying the budded stem gently in the basket. Once he had collected the required dozen, he pocketed the small hand shears and placed them back within his coat - making sure the flap sealed back over. Lifting his head, he could see the sun had now kissed the horizon. Soon, it was time to waken his Mistress from her slumber. For Florina, beauty sleep was everything.


Like so many men, Betrand was fortunate to be the one that toiled for her favor. She had promised him her protection, in exchange for his service. After seeing what had become of his former Master, the Lord of Craxton - he could hardly refuse. But what of the new Heir? That...was a very good question.


Ambling up from the gardens and into the servant's entrance, Bertrand passed the kitchens. The staff had also met a similar fate to that of their Lordship. Their crushed bones were what made the roses so beautiful in the garden beds.


The last rays of light finally flickered away, as darkness once again descended upon Craxton Park. Setting down the basket of roses in the foyer, Betrand selected the most beautiful, and trimmed it of its leaves, before starting down the stairs to the basement where his Mistress lay sleeping. Pushing open the heavy iron clad door, Betrand stuck his head in and peeked to see any signs of her. In the middle of the stone floor was an elaborate coffin. Made from the finest of crafted woods from the old country. Florina always traveled in style. Creeping up alongside the coffin, the servant drew his fingers into a small fist, and then with the utmost care he knocked three times lightly.


"Your Ladyship? It's sunset."





From within the coffin, you could hear the annoyed groan of someone not quite ready to get up yet. Betrand nearly wet himself. He was always told. Three knocks, not another more. The white haired man servant held his breath..and then was about to knock another time, when the lid to the coffin started to open, and a well manicured hand curled its fingers around the outer edge. Forcing the lid up higher, until the glow of the surrounding torches revealed her face.


"Evening Bertie."


"Evening, M'lady." Her manservant offered his hand and helped her up, before she glided down to the floor as though she could walk on the air itself. Bertrand released her hand, and offered her a Craxton rose, which she accepted with a delighted smile. The tell tale showing of one of her glistening fangs, a dead giveaway to what she really was. There was truth in the saying "It is never wise, to acquire a mail order bride." Florina brought the rose bud to her nostrils, and the softness of the petal tickled just under her nose. The perfume, so sweet. The man servant stood back and then bowed before his Ladyship, as she glided past him and headed on out the chamber door and for the stairs. Rising up with an almost wistful smile, she approached the doors that would lead her out to the terrace...where her next fated lover would soon be coming. She started to sing, as she opened her arms out to the moon, her gown billowing behind her. Blacks, reds, grays. Fabric that lifted and danced on the night air.


Deep below the Manor in a pit that was filled with sludge, mud and rats was a man chained to a wall. His face dirty and hair so long that you could never believe him to be a young man. He heard that voice...that lyrical voice as the Widow of Craxton started to sing....


Come into these arms again


And lay your body down


The rhythm of this trembling heart


Is beating like a drum


It beats for you - It bleeds for you


It knows not how it sounds


For it is the drum of drums


It is the song of songs...


Once I had the rarest rose


That ever deigned to bloom.


Cruel winter chilled the bud


And stole my flower too soon.


Oh loneliness - oh hopelessness


To search the ends of time


For there is in all the world


No greater love than mine.


Love, oh love, oh love...


Still falls the rain... (still falls the rain)


Love, oh love, oh, love...


Still falls the night...


Love, oh love, oh love...


Be mine forever.... (be mine forever)


Love, oh love, oh love....


Let me be the only one


To keep you from the cold


Now the floor of heaven's lain


With stars of brightest gold


They shine for you - they shine for you


They burn for all to see


Come into these arms again


And set this spirit free


The man in the pit started to scream...as loud as he could, yet no one could hear him.


"BEWARE THE CURSED ROSE!"





Throughout the forest, Florina's song could be heard, as the gates to Craxton Place slowly began to swing open.


@ricegoddess

 

[ricegoddess]

As Ethan slowly walked through the darkening forest, he seemed to grow doubtful with each passing second. Was his encounter with Florina a dream? It couldn't have been, it was too real to be a dream. One would usually realize if an encounter was a dream or not, but the way his heart was pounding that night was too realistic to have been a dream. Then, he heard her song. A sharp shudder ran through his body as he listened to her singing, his feet stopping for a moment then quickly moving again to try and find its source. It was as if her singing was calling to him, luring him. When the hauntingly alluring song ended, that moment his lantern light reflected on the iron gates that were open, welcoming him inside. The young man peered around cautiously in the entrance garden before stepping inside, growing hesitant in his want to meet the Widow. His feelings remained the same, he wanted to know more about her, but he wasn't sure going to her place was the smartest idea. Either way, he walked up to the front entrance and gently pushed the door open, the loud creaking of the doors indicating that they were old from use but were surprisingly still well intact.


"Hello...?" Ethan called into the dark house, the candles too far apart from each other to give good lighting to the foyer. He gulped, "Lady Florina...?" Was it okay to just call out to her like this? Maybe he should have just knocked instead of walking in. But he hovered by the entrance, his body tense and almost ready to bolt if a sudden monster tried to make him dinner. There was no lone crow to mock him and the house's silence was deafening.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

"Hello Ethan..." The sultry voice of Florina came from in behind him. She was standing on the top step at the front entrance that he had just climbed. Course, he wouldn't have seen her, or heard her soft footfalls on the stone for she had a way of moving that was deathly silent. Gripping the edges of her flowing dress, she made her way up and past him to only turn side on and admire him in the soft light that the Manor foyer offered. Aside from Florina's haunting voice, there was no other sound. Not that there needed to be. The night's children did not always sing - especially when their Mistress wanted the boy's attention. Lady Craxton was dressed more exotically this eve. In fact, you would say that her gown had been fashioned by very talented seamstresses from the old country. The dress was from a bygone era, yet she wore it as though it was made specifically for her. Accentuating her bosom to a height that may be considered scandalous in some cultures. The corset that was beneath the lace and silk had pulled her frame into an almost unnatural shape. Her body like that of an hourglass. How on earth she could even breathe in such a dress defied imagination. Yet with each intake of breath, her chest rose sharply - only drawing one's eyes closer to her abundant cleavage.


One thing to notice, that while she wore black as part of her coloring, she was wearing others mixed in. Often widows were to wear only black for the first year of a noble's death and yet here she was being scandalous once more. Did she even believe in tradition of any kind? It would be easy to say that Lady Florina was something of a rebel. It only added to her allure. In her hand she was still holding the beautiful rose that Bertrand had gifted her on her awakening. The fragrance wafted throughout the air, making for delightful mix with the Widow's own scent. She was just like the rose in many ways. Beautiful to look at, yet but if one was to be pricked by her sharp thorns they may find themselves forever cursed.


[media]



[/media]
Florina tapped the rosebud to her chin as she mused playfully. "And here I thought you had forgotten about me."





Just as she had done before in the dark forest, Florina extended her hand to lead Ethan inside her Manor. "Would you like a tour of my humble home?" Florina waited for him to take her hand. "I have so many delights to show you, Ethan." If Ethan did enter through the massive doors, they would swing to a close behind him - magically.


@ricegoddess

 

[ricegoddess]

Ethan nearly jumped out of his skin at her voice next to his ear. She was waiting for him? How could he have missed her, he practically walked by her. But even from the minimal lighting, he felt his face grow hot when he saw her dress, gulping quietly to himself. He wasn't use to seeing such a scandalous outfit, his heart nearly exploded from shock and other feelings colliding inside it. His nose tickled at the mixture of her scent and the rose's, surprised to have encountered a rose this powerful in smell. Not that it was a horrendous smell, but it made his nose itchy, wanting to sneeze... And there was... Almost a metallic hint to the Widow's smell, but he didn't take much notice of it. It must have just been the lantern oil or something silly. Despite the house seemingly to look old, it was still very well taken care of, so it couldn't have been dust or anything. "Forgotten about you? Honestly, I couldn't stop thinking about you..." He scratches his cheek bashfully, his face still burning. He looks at her hand and this time, slowly takes it, enjoying the feeling of her silky glove against his rough hands. Though he was not of the strongest built, Ethan had still worked very hard in his village, having his hands and feet calloused. It was rare for him to touch anything smooth or silky, so he took pleasure in holding her hand. "I would greatly appreciate a tour of your humble abode, Lady Florina." He smiles a little, trying to keep his eyes on her hardly lit face and avoiding her chest as to not be rude.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

Florina batted her long lashes, when she watched Ethan's nose twitch a little from the over powering scent of the rose in her hand. It really didn't get better than this. The young man had a certain naive charm, and it added to her delight, when his cheeks became aflame at admitting that he had not been able to stop thinking about her. The pink tip of her tongue slipped out between her lips like a happy kitten playing with a little mouse. Ethan truly was unique. Shy and yet curious about her at the same time. Bold enough to dare to reenter the dark forest in search of her...and at night. Her dark eyes though hooded, followed his hand as he scratched his cheek, before he did take her offered hand to enter the building which she had described as humble. It was really anything but. Some might describe it as being like a rich hunting lodge. Walls lined with the heads of deer and other wild game collected over the years by the Craxton family. Funny, how they were the hunters for centuries - and yet it was the same ones who became the prey from the most unlikely source.


"I would greatly appreciate a tour of your humble abode, Lady Florina."





Florina gave his hand a little squeeze, and tried not to laugh at the fact that he was trying to avoid looking at her chest.


On entering the grand hall, you could see that there were still many crates that had come from Florina's homeland that had yet to be opened. Large...wooden boxes. Trunks that one would imagine held clothing, shoes and other personal belongings. Her cargo must have taken up half the hull from the ship she traveled over on. Turning the right corner, they would enter a large drawing room, with a fire place that was well lit. Above the fire place, you would expect to see the painting of the family Craxton's founder, but instead, it had another painting in it's place. it was one that must have been painted by the Masters of the Renaissance, but the shocking part....it was a painting of the Widow of Craxton. The imagery showed her to be half naked, with her gown slung low off her rounded hips. The background of the painting showed a township on fire, and it was almost as though she was set in the ruins of a blooded battle. Such imagination that painter had had. In fact, the painting looked so real, it was almost frightening. Florina's hair was wildly blown about her - the moon in the sky behind her was blood red. It truly was a majestic work of art. Florina stood under the painting, having released Ethan's hand, and she picked up a bell, ringing it. Betrand came in, moments later carrying a small silver tray that had a cup of hot cocoa on it. Florina nodded for Betrand to offer it to Ethan, as she watched him with a beautiful smile.


"Ethan, may I introduce you to Bertie. He is my man servant and he will care for your every need."





Betrand made a curt bow and straightened, but then looked to Florina as though waiting for her to say something else. Instead of speaking again, she simply toyed with her rose and watched Ethan with intense fascination.


@ricegoddess

 

[ricegoddess]

Ethan looks around curiously in the low-lit estate, noticing how there were many crates and trunks around the place. She must have many clothes and merchandise to have this many boxes in the grand hall. He was surprised by the painting above the fire place, unable to resist staring at the details and at the fact that she was half naked in a battlefield setting. His eyes traced her painted hips and how her hair was tossed in the imaginary wind. Props to the artist. He didn't realize the Widow let go of his hand until he heard the small bell ring, looking at her and then at Betrand.


"Thank you." He accepted the hot cocoa but didn't take a sip just yet. The silence felt awkward to him as he held the warm cup, it not being hot enough for him to be unable to hold it in his hands. He nibbled in the inside of his lip nervously, but smiles, trying to start a conversation, "How long has Bertie been around? You must know each other well." Again, Ethan is training himself to not look below Florina's neck, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly on the cup.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

Every move, every twitch....so bewitching to the Widow, that she found herself smiling at the young man. It was like watching a young foal in a paddock, leaping about and not knowing where to turn, or what to do next. Her eyes continued to follow each direction that his took. As though he was trying to take it all in, which of course would be rather difficult considering the nature of the art work that had pride and place directly above the ornate fire place. Yes...look at it again... Whilst this request was alive in her mind, she dared not say it out loud, for appearing to be completely unashamed. Truth was, she was very proud of that masterpiece. It was one of a kind, and she made sure that once the painter had finished his work, that he would never paint for another.


Bertrand entered the room silently, and of course Ethan took the offered drink, though if he cared to notice, there was no beverage for his Mistress. Just the one cup of hot cocoa. Ethan thanked the man servant, who gave a slight smile in recognition, but then there was this pregnant pause, as the Mistress continued to watch the boy with growing interest. Who would be the one to break the ice? Ethan would do the honors....such a gentleman.


"How long has Bertie been around? You must know each other well."


The man servant passed a glance between his Mistress, and the young man, wondering if Florina was going to answer this. The lady of the manor took in a deep breath as though drinking the scene in. "Bertie has served this house and its former Master...for...hmm....twenty years." Indeed, the butler, if you wanted to call him that, was a loyal servant of the late Lord Craxton. Florina had not finished with her answer however. "I am a fairly new addition to the Manor. I'd say that Bertie has come to know me well since the late Lord's passing, which would be about six or so months ago." She then chuckled, as she found amusement in her own words. "Though to me, it feels like so much longer." Florina turned her head slightly towards Bertrand, who acknowledged her. "You are too kind, Mistress." By the growing of her smile at this reply, you would think that they were sharing a private joke. Well, one that she found amusing.


Regaining some composure, she happened to notice the way in which Ethan's thumb was rubbing the cup. Was this some sort of coping mechanism, to train himself not to stare at her chest? Florina gestured for Ethan to sit with her on a love seat, which happened to have a vibrant red velvet cushioning, with a highly polished black timber frame.


"Care to sit with me?" Florina sat herself down, spreading out her skirts, and then easing back - tapping the red rose against her chin as though being playful. "I'd like to hear more about you, dear Ethan." As though a silent cue had been given, Bertrand slipped out of the room, leaving the Widow with the young man. "Then you can ask me anything you like. No holds barred."





@ricegoddess

 

[ricegoddess]

Twenty years, huh... That was practically most of Ethan's life, but he nods politely. Why would she chuckled after mention the late Lord's passing? Maybe she found something funny in the fact. Which would be strange, but Ethan said nothing of it other than an automatic quirk of his eyebrow. For only knowing each other for a couple of months, it seems that they share a lot of... moments together. As the young man took another sip, he nods at her proposal, sitting next to her on the love seat, but not sitting too closely. "What would you like to know about me, Lady Florina...? I'm not very interesting, to say the least." The scent of the rose tickled his nose again, giving a small sniff in hopes that he doesn't let out a massive sneeze. He placed the warm cup on his lap, still rubbing his thumb on its porcelain surface.

 

[Tiny Dancer]

Florina found his masculine scent to be more than just alluring. Already she happened to notice the strength of one of his main arteries as it beat beneath his skin. To her, it was like the beating of a battle drum, having the same affect on her. Anyone will tell you that the sound of war drums moves the warriors into battle and ignites an adrenilan rush; strengthening their resolve to fight. In the Widow's case, it was enough to make her gums ache as her sharpened fangs began to descend, and she had to find all the restraint she had, from not launching herself at him - then and there.


The Widow blinked and then whipped out her fan, to partially cover her growing smile - while at the same time hide those glistening white fangs of hers. She then had to concentrate fully on his question, all the while practically salivating.


"What would you like to know about me, Lady Florina...? I'm not very interesting, to say the least."


The lady in red, giggled at his words like a school girl. Whether Ethan knew it or not, he made her feel so young again. Not that she looked her age, oh no....aging was something she simply didn't do.


"You're very interesting to me. A lot more interesting than Bertie. A widow does get awfully lonely in an old house like this. Some nights I feel like there is just no one to talk too." She continued to beat her fan, much like you would expect to see a woman of nobility do in her palour. You could hear a faint laugh coming from the kitchens and Florina made a little face behind the fan, since Bertie found what she said to be funny. Naughty eavesdropper.


Scooting a little closer to Ethan, Florina asked; "Are you a virgin?" Her eyes looked so mischievous as she asked this. It was the most scandalous thing a woman could ever ask a young man. What would he say?


@ricegoddess