AN: Hello, wonderful people! Hope summer is treating all of you super well! ^_^

I'm again sorry for the long wait! In a pure me way, I spent a lot of my summer days nursing a pesky cold. Again. Combine that with not knowing how to write out a chapter though you have the ideas for it (apparently it can happen, oops), and you get a mess. *crossed fingers* The next update should be up soon-ish. :)

If you like the chapter, leave some love please :D.

Your Fearsome Hamster

The bell of Mr. Fredor's library rang out, startling Margo from yet another gripping romance of hers. Ah, just when the viscount was going to confess his undying love...She reluctantly raised her eyes from the book. No one was waiting in the library's foyer. Strange. She climbed down the flight of stairs and opened the wooden door. It let out a loud screech, making her wince. Mr. Fredor needed to have it fixed. 

Outside, the stone paved street was deserted, but for a stray cat who rummaged endlessly through some bits left probably by the butcher's down the road. Margo stepped over the threshold and squinted in the distance while holding the shawl closer to her shivering form. Fog was heavy that morning. The fire lit lamps on the street were long extinguished by the frigid wind of November. Looking left and right did not reveal the identity of whom had visited earlier. 

Few people in town faced the cruel weather of the coming winter, and even fewer did so for a book. She sighed. I don't know why I keep hoping for customers. Just when she was about to close the door, a mewing sound was heard. She jumped slightly.

Looking down, she saw the culprit with the big yellow eyes. The vagabond feline was rubbing itself on her dress, stopping every couple of moments to look up at her and mew for attention. However, it was not the fluffy cat who made her heart beat faster in trepidation.

A small piece of parchment laid on the library's doorstep. Innocuous in appearance, but threatening in message. She bent to take it with shaking hands.

Those who choose evil, have only one salvation. Death. Choose wisely.

Margo disbelievingly read it a couple of times. Who could have written this sick joke? She turned the paper over searching for a name. Nothing. Surely, it ought to be just a morbid prank probably pulled by young boys. Maybe it was not even meant for her, but for poor Mr. Fredor, the librarian the children liked to tease for his unconventional taste for the supernatural. She crumpled the message in her hands. Her eccentric old owner did not need this.

Mewing was heard again. The grey cat raised one of its paws, its long claws slightly scraping her legs. 

But what if this has to do with the damned creature from the cemetery?  Cold lead filled her veins. No, Margo, do not even go down that path, this has no–

"I did not know you were a cat person, Margo," a familiar male voice suddenly said.

She yelped. The stray feline yelped as well, quickly dashing though the library's shelves far in the  back. Sneaky animal. Still holding a hand on her heart, Margo turned to face the unexpected guest.

"What did I tell about startling me, Benjamin Verant," she crossed her arms, tapping her shoe in a show of amused irritation. 

"To never do it again," he smirked.

"Exactly. And what did you just do?" She fought to keep her expression neutral.

Benjamin laughed, no trace of guilt on his face. "I startled you," he quickly advanced grabbing her by the cheeks and pulling. "I apologise, I cannot help it. You, bookworms, are such easy preys to this." Margo rolled her eyes at her friend's antics. He stopped and admitted sheepishly. "Subconsciously, I guess I am also trying to make up for the pranks my little sisters subjugate me to daily. What is worse, nowadays Celine is teaching the twins new tricks, my once peaceful home has become a minefield with these crazy sisters of mine," he tiredly sat in a chair near the entrance, sighing dramatically. 

Sitting herself opposite him, she laughed. "That is exactly why your siblings are my friends." Speaking about pranks..."Ben, did you happen to see anyone in the alley when you came here?"

"No, it was just me, why?" I have just received a life threatening warning. "No reason," she replied.

After a few moments, Ben scooted closer to the edge of his seat, his green eyes taking a sober glint  "Margo, you know you can trust me. You have always been like a sister to me and as your unofficial older brother there is a rumour in town that unsettles me. Something about a well off gentleman pursuing you, is it true?"

She sighed. Burying her head in the sand like an ostrich and denying the truth would do no good. Especially now since the certain gentleman  had started to occupy her thoughts more and more each day. Especially since she shared a first, rather passionate, kiss with the certain gentleman. 

Margo took a big breath and nodded. Ben jumped. "It is in fact the truth, Ben.  You need to sit down for this." She proceeded to tell her friend about her father's fateful gambling night, how it resulted in her arranged marriage, her hurt anger at her parent and her chaos of feelings regarding her fiancee. The incident with monster attacking Boore was carefully overlooked. Some secrets were best to be kept. 

"–and after the day spent at the horse farm with him and Thomas, my eyes were opened to a different side of him, a side that is neither domineering nor conceited, a side that can be compassionate, a side that I can begin to..." 

She stopped herself in time. A bit timid she had shared too much, Margo carefully tried to assess her friend's current state of mind. Throughout her speech, the young man had jumped from his seat, slammed his fist on the small table between them, ran his hand over his head at least a hundred of times all the while alternating cursing her father and Zachary to hell and back. His present stillness and silence troubled Margo. 

"Ben,–"

"What did you say his name was?" he interrupted her abruptly.

"Zachary Frost."

He nodded solemnly, a faraway look in his eyes "I promise I will look into his history. If there is anything rotten about this man, I will try my very best to unbury it to the surface."

"Thank you, Ben. I really appreciate it." Margo observed her friend. He was very deep in thought, probably looking over all possible scenarios of escaping her impending nuptials. His defence mechanism was certainly better than her own nervous breakdown when she had first found out about her situation. Deep down, she had known that every girl her age would feel lucky to be chosen as bride, after all spinster hood was almost a guaranteed destiny for those over twenty two. Too bad, she did not feel blessed at all for her twist of fate. 

She decided not to share her gloomy perspective to Ben, overwhelmed already by what she had shared so far. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed his form still suddenly. His gaze was on the immense window near them. It overlooked the street which now overflowed with commotion. He seemed to be transfixed by something in the crowd. Tracking his gaze, she noticed his bother.

A hidden figure enveloped in a heavy dark cloak was watching them outside the window. Paying no heed to the annoyed looks sent his way, the mysterious person shamelessly continued to stare. Right in their direction. The man even dared to smirk, a beam of light quickly catching his visage. A horrid scar was all she noticed before the shadows hid the stranger again.

Probably another idiot overdosing on opium.

Irked, Margo turned to Ben. "Only lunatics–"

However,  the redhead was already on his feet, his gaze still locked on the unusual individual. "Apologies, Margo, I have to take my leave." He even nodded at the cloaked person. What was happening?

"Ben, wait, who is that man outside?"she grabbed his hand. Her tone must have been panicked, for her friend's eyes softened and he touched her fingers. "I can't divulge anything right now, it is for your safety. But be sure to avoid going out alone after dusk, Margo. This town has gone mad lately." Her heart stopped with anxiety. Could he know? About the monster?

By the time she snapped out of her stupor, the young man was already out of the library door. "Don't forget about the cat, Mar. Take care," he yelled in the distance, quickly disappearing with the mysterious person in the crowd.

Behind them, a loud crash was heard. The bloody cat. 

.........................................

Margo closed the library door, resigning herself with the furry four legged permanent guest who refused to leave the dusty bookshelves, and started her long walk back to the manor.

Mr Fredor had let her go earlier than usual, claiming it to be a slow day. Everyday was a slow one at the library, truth be told. The real reason for her shorter work day was actually her clumsiness if constantly dropping stacks of books and labelling manuscripts was anything to go by–her gullible employer probably believed she was tired. In truth, she was just suffering from a bad case of overactive imagination. Ever since she parted ways with Zachary, her wild mind, a trait that would help her survive the bleakest of times, now could not cease repeating and blowing out of proportion every gesture her betrothed did. 

The way he talked. The way his voice would deepen with patience when he mentored Thomas in horse riding. Her mind flashed to the way his voice would turn husky and low when he was whispering to her. The way his eyes sparkled with satisfaction when her brother learnt another trick. Her mind flashed to the way his eyes would glint with mischievous desire when gazing at her. The way he powerfully tamed the black steed he was riding. Her mind flashed to way he skilfully tamed her mouth with gentle insistent strokes of his lips, while pressing her close to him on his horse. 

She groaned. There she was doing it all over again! What was more frustrating was that she could not stop getting warm feelings deep in her heart about it. She had to admit it. 

She was happy. Thanks to her fiancee. Thanks to intense, irritating, but sweet Zachary Frost. She had not felt this contentment in a long time and for that day at least she would forget about the damned blood-sucking monster, Ben's bizarre attitude, his even more bizarre cloaked acquaintance and her all other problems and just bask in the warm glow of that sentiment.

With that promise in mind, Margo went through the entrance of HartWell Manor. Too bad the person awaiting for her would soon crash her dream.

In the parlour, comfortably seated in a faded crimson armchair with a wine glass by his side was her father. Appearing surprisingly sober and armed with a wide smirk on his face, Lord HartWell seemed to have been waiting for her.  Dread licked down Margo's spine, a happy Lord HartWell never foretold good news for her.

"Good afternoon, Margo." His tone did not reveal anything.

"Good afternoon, father," the young woman carefully said. "It's a good thing you arrived early, I just received letter from Lord Frost, we'll be sharing dinner tonight," he announced her. She had not been informed about this impromptu meal beforehand, but as far as she was concerned, she had been expecting to be told something much worse. She was relieved. 

"I thank Mr. Frost for his invitation, but tonight I have to be with Madame Percy in town, it's my shift–," she explained.

Her father interrupted, laughing stridently." Oh, he did not tell you?" he mocked, "Lord Frost had already informed the tavern owner you will no longer be in need of..." he spitted the words out "your job. You have no excuse for not attending tonight, and we do not want to upset your fiancee, do we Margo?"

What on bloody earth? 

Frost had fired her from Madame Percy's service? How dare he? He had not right to do so without her consent. A tiny voice whispered that she would have had to retire from the tavern after her marriage anyway, but she squished the reason away. Blind rage boiled underneath her skin.

She was furious. She fought to keep it at bay and prayed for Lord HartWell to leave her alone otherwise stinging words would come to tongue. Either way, she would be the only one to suffer.

On top it all, her father leaned closer, pointing slyly to a forgotten bouquet of red roses that laid on a nearby table. "Lord Frost sent a gift for you, be sure to thank him tonight for his kind gesture." With that said, her father smirked one last time as if proud of his horrible news and left the parlour with heavy steps.

Crossing the parlour, Margo viciously ripped the tiny paper message hidden between the flowers' petals ad fought to read it. Her eyes were foggy with unshed angry tears.

My sweet torment,

The other day was a dream. My soul is already yearning for you.

I hope you could grace me tonight with your presence, I invite you to dine with me at my home. Your family is welcome to come as well if you wish. 

Yours,

Z

Margo crumpled the piece of paper, throwing the offending letter in the fireplace. As the girl watched the flames rapidly engulf it in their deadly embrace, her heart weeped while her mind hardened.

I trusted you were different, Zachary.