A House Filled With Night
Snakes in the Grass

“Did you come with the Sons of Midnight?” Lady Sabia asked.

“Oh, them.” Runa nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“I, um…just happened to come with them. They brought me along.”

“Why?”

“They…hm, well, I don’t honestly know why.”

“Where did you meet them?”

“At a ball.”

“You? But I’ve never seen you before. You’re not of noble birth, are you? You don’t look it.”

“I’m not.”

Lady Sabia waited for her explain, but Runa was just thankful to take a breath after the stream of relentless interrogation. With each question, the lady backed her farther and farther into a corner of the room. Runa’s eyes flitted this way and that, looking for some sort of escape. Sylvain’s strict warnings of secrecy aside, answering questions from Lady Sabia was anything but pleasant.

“But what are you doing with them?” Sabia insisted.

“Attending a ball.”

“That’s not what I mean. You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure that I do, actually.”

A small group of women approached, only further encasing Runa against the walls of the room. One linked arms with Sabia’s and leaned into her ear.

“Is this the girl?” she said quietly, but not too quietly. She turned to Runa. “You came with the Sons of Midnight, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Where do they live? What are they like?”

“They live…in a house. I suppose they’re nice, most of the time.”

“Oh, you’ve been to their house?” said another.

“Yes.”

“What for?”

“They just brought me…to visit…for an extended period of time.”

“You live with them, then?”

“I…yes.”

“So it is that way.”

Their wagging of heads and knowing hums immediately made Runa’s stomach take a distasteful turn.

“No, no, it’s—it’s not that way. It’s only because, well, they have to keep me there for a little while—”

“They’re keeping you there? Oh, my.”

“I’m telling you, you’ve misunderstood.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, men never keep a woman for any other reason except as a wife or a mistress.”

“There’s no shame in it, dear. Especially if you’re getting just as much out of the bargain as they are. None of them are ugly, either, which must be a great comfort to you. I might not be opposed to such a bargain myself.”

Runa could feel herself trembling with anger. She hated it when she got too angry, because words became even more difficult to formulate.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” Runa tried. “None of them are like that.”

“Like what? All men are the same.”

“Oh, come. You might as well admit it. Why even bother?”

“Tell us the truth.”

“You can’t keep pretending forever.”

“May I have this dance?”

A distinctly male voice sharply cut through the chatter of the women. They turned to replace a gentleman had wormed his way through their little crowd and was holding out his hand to Runa, as if the others weren’t there.

She stared at his hand for a full ten seconds before grasping it. He pulled her away from the women and back to the dancefloor. Finally, she could breathe again. She was almost certain the air had grown stale from too many lungs occupying the same corner.

“Women are some of the most relentless creatures in this world,” her new partner said.

Runa just nodded. Thankful though she was to be free of the ladies, she wasn’t exactly happy to be dancing with a perfect stranger, either. Now that she’d had a chance to look at him—his neatly combed hair, ruffled collar, and shiny cufflinks—she had a feeling he was going to be just as snobbish as her previous company.

“My name is Ennis Montel. May I ask your name?”

“I’m Runa. I’m terrible at dancing by the way, so you may want to replace a different partner.”

“It’s charming.”

Runa coughed a little. Did he say charming?

As she and Ennis began to move through the ballroom, Runa noticed she’d caught the attention of all the Sons of Midnight. Sylvain gazed at her with unnerving steadiness, Fiske wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, Casimir stared blankly from his piano, Torin tripped over a chair and fell into a table, and Niko completely stopped dancing so he could thoroughly glare as if she had just betrayed him.

Runa sighed. If he hadn’t just gotten her out of an awkward situation, she wouldn’t be dancing with Ennis at all. But as it was, she thought she at least owed him one dance. Afterward, she swore to plant herself next to Casimir and hide behind a cello for the rest of the evening.

“I must admit,” Ennis said, “You came with rather unusual company.”

“Yes, well, I’m not normal myself…sorry, I mean, I’m not normally at places like this. As a guest, anyway.”

“I see. I think I understand. Are you a commoner?”

Runa hesitated before answering simply, “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“You would also grow tired of the noble and the wealthy, if you were me.”

“I think I have already.”

He laughed. “What a strange thing to say, for someone who was with the Sons of Midnight. Aren’t they extravagantly wealthy?”

Runa thought. “I don’t know. They’re wealthier than I am, but I don’t know if they’re extravagantly wealthy.”

“They’re dressed better than kings. They must live in luxury.”

“I suppose—” Runa stopped herself, remembering Sylvain’s stern warnings. Tell no one about us, who we are, where we live, or anything of the like. “I suppose that’s possible.”

“Possible?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? I thought you lived at their estate!”

“Rumors are very unreliable.”

“Unreliable, although generally founded in some truth.”

Runa said nothing. She was beginning to think it was time for their dance to end. To her great discomfort, she discovered that they had danced themselves to the back of the ballroom and were backing away further still.

“Living arrangements aside, you clearly share some attachment to them. No one else can say the same. I wonder, why you, of all women?”

“I don’t think there’s any reason at all. It was simply a coincidence.”

“I doubt that! Do you know you’re the first person ever to be seen with them?”

“I didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why not?”

“From what I’ve seen of them.”

“What have you seen of them?”

“I just meant, what they’re like.”

“What are they like?”

“They’re—I—”

Somehow, they had ended up in one of the corridors adjacent to the ballroom. It was darker here. Ennis had stopped dancing altogether. It was time to take her leave.

“I really don’t know much about them,” she tried. “I’m sorry, I should go—”

“But you must know more than others.”

“No, not really.” She turned to leave.

Ennis grabbed her arm, pulling her back. He took a step forward, pressing her against the wall.

“That’s absurd. You must know something.”

“I don’t, really—”

She felt the frieze of the wall grinding into her back. Her pulse pounded in her head.

“Stop pretending to be so naïve,” he hissed. “You can’t fool me. They must have told you something, something about where they live, where they found their wealth, how they became so powerful—something!”

Runa said nothing. Her hands were pressed against his chest, and she was doing her best to push him off her. He was too heavy. She tried to slip down and duck under him, but he just grabbed her arm and yanked her back up again.

His eyes burned beneath the shadow of his brow. “You don’t think I’ll get it out of you. I will.”

He drew back his hand, ready to strike—and suddenly, he was motionless, his face contorted with anger, one hand gripping her arm, the other frozen midair. The next moment, Ennis was yanked off of her and tossed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Runa looked up into the large, worried eyes of Niko. He had crouched down in front of her and was grasping her hands, searching her face, then her body, for any sign of injury.

“Miss Runa, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

He had just discovered the red marks on her wrists and settled on fretting over them, when Ennis grabbed Niko by the shoulder and took a swing at his face. Niko answered with equal force. The ensuing brawl brought Sylvain and Fiske to the scene, as well as a crowd of other onlookers. The music stopped, and Casimir rushed over as well.

“Niko!” shouted Casimir, “What’s going on?”

Ennis struggled up. He was outnumbered; there was only one option left. He wrapped his arm around Runa’s neck and pulled her between himself and the Sons of Midnight. She couldn’t help but gag. Why didn’t you run away when you had the chance?

“I’ll choke her,” Ennis said. “I will.”

Sylvain held his hands up and took a step back. Casimir had to restrain Niko, but the younger brother continued to glare at Ennis regardless.

And then, Torin arrived.

His eyes fell on Runa, down to the arm around her neck, then back up to her eyes—her horrified, frantic eyes. Something inside him snapped.

Before anyone could think, he lunged at Ennis, wrenching him away from Runa and tossing him to the ground. Sylvain and Casimir grabbed her and pulled her away from the fight.

“You shouldn’t watch this,” said Casimir, trying to block her view.

It wasn’t enough. She could see Torin on top of Ennis, pounding into him relentlessly. He wasn’t stopping. The crowd of onlookers had receded like an ebbing tide. Men grunted and backed away. Women gasped and hid their faces. A few brave guards approached in an attempt to stop him, but a mere shove of his hand had them flailing on the ground.

“Torin!” Sylvain barked. “You need to stop.”

Casimir left Runa’s side in an attempt to help his brothers restrain Torin. Niko and Fiske eventually managed to wrap their arms around Torin and pull him up, although he fought like mad. There was blood staining his knuckles. Casimir grabbed his face with both hands and studied his eyes. He turned to the brothers.

“It’s happening again, it’s happening right now.”

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~ A/N ~

Isn’t it annoying how your brother’s mysterious demony powers always seem to act up at just the WORST time ever?

Thanks @Nana for your sweet review!!

And thanks to everyone who reads, likes, and comments - you fuel my writing powers :)

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