AN: Hello, wonderful people! 

Summer has officially begun for me, so hopefully more updates are on the way (next chapter is almost done). Sorry for this chapter, I am not completely satisfied with it :(, but the ball needs to keep rolling. Our ship is rocking yet again, will it be a Titanic and sink or will Margo and Zachie make it through? :O

Your Fearsome Hamster

Margo stirred, the unfamiliar satin sheets providing but a slight comfort to the pounding headache she could feel coming. She groaned out loud. Why did she feel like this? She had not even drunk that many glasses of champagne, unlike a certain grandmother. Raising her hand to massage her temples, she could feel a small bump on one finger.

Her eyes blinked open. An opulent ruby ring flashed in the sunlight. Ahh. A big smile stretched on her lips while a blush coloured her cheeks red. How could she forget? Reminiscing what Zachary – her husband– had done to her explained some of the unusual aches in her body. The young woman crossed her legs.

She jumped to her feet, looking around.

There was no sign of her vampire.

She wondered where he could possibly be. Bright light cascaded out of the gothic windows and she gasped in delight finally noticing the fairytale scenery outside.

It was snowing heavily, everything covered in a thick layer of snow and ice. How peculiar. Margo was sure that before she had gone to bed, there had been no sign of such a drastic change in weather. As a child, such snow storms were always a reason for great happiness, the landscape promising great adventures. Now, however, a sense of uneasiness was trickling in her bones the more she watched snowflakes freeze on her window pane.

Someone was probably out there in the cold, with no roof above their head.

Uncle Ray!

Her legs trembled and she barely grasped the window sill for balance. She remembered now. Zachary had known all along what had happened to her friend and had remained quiet. She recalled confronting him– or trying to confront him last night and he had hypnotised her yet again.

"Good morning, my love," the door opened behind her. Her unreliable heart jumped in her chest hearing that suave voice. She spun around. The betrayed look on her face stopped her husband from advancing further. 

Margo warily watched him put the breakfast tray on a nearby table. He had brought her French toast and black tea, her favourite morning dish. Damn him for knowing my habits so well. Zachary cleared his voice.

"I suppose you remember now. I had hoped for more time," he looked tired, his wide shoulders hunched over and the light in his indigo eyes dimmed. 

"More time to lie?" she lashed out before she could stop herself. "You had known about Uncle Ray and yet you said nothing," Margo crossed the distance between them. "What have you done to him, is he even alive? Zachary, if you have–".

His jaw ticked. "The old man is fine," he interrupted. Was he jealous? After what he done, he had no right to be.

"Where is Uncle Ray, now?" she demanded, though a burning part of her also wanted to know why there was such exhaustion painted on his face. He sighed.

"He is at my horse farm, near the border of the kingdom. The one we visited with your little brother Thomas a while ago," he uttered, trying to catch her gaze. Hearing this, she inwardly winced. That place held such sweet untainted memories – it was the first time she had seen a gentle side of him there. To hear that it currently stood for Uncle Ray's prison corrupted it.

"Let us go, then," she did not hear Zachary's response as her hands opened the huge wooden trunk on the side of their bed and took out her winter coat and a warm dress. "Margo." Her boots were hurriedly fished out from under the mattress where a maid had carefully arranged them.

Then, strong arms embraced her waist, ceasing her frantic movements. "Margo!"

"The weather outside is dangerous, little one. I will not risk you." A quick look out the window assured her the snowstorm still battled on. Not sooner had he caressed her cheek than she flinched out of his reach and raised her palm to stop him. Also, to stop herself, as she was not strong enough to continue to reject him.

The coat dropped in a heap to the ground as Margo leaned on a wall, closing her eyes. 

"The end is here. He is here! The very devil! He will not stop till he gets what he wants in his claws!" Uncle Ray waved his arms frantically in the street.

"Stop touching her, old man."

"Come on, do continue old man, I'm curious as to what you have to say about me," Frost sarcastically challenged him.

"You a-are the c-curs–...Margo, h-he...," never finishing his confession, Uncle Ray dropped to the ground, a trickle of blood dropping from his lips.

A sad laugh echoed in the room. She realised it was coming from her. "Ray knew from the very beginning about you. Who you were, what you were, who you wanted. He tried to warn me and I ... I just thought he was crazy like everyone else in town." A tear dripped over her cheek, followed by others. She had been a terrible friend. She had disappointed Uncle Ray. "I should have listened."

Footsteps sounded closer. She felt Zachary hesitate, his hand in the air.

"Please go," she whispered, wrapping her arms around her torso. She could not bear to look at him. How ironic was it that it was her husband she wanted most comfort from in those moments?

A sorrowful growl– or perhaps a whimper– filled the room. 

"I promise I will make it right." 

Margo heard the door open. It was a long time before it finally closed.

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

The fight with Zachary had left her lifeless. She had lain in the middle of the bed, her mind racing with possibilities. Images of a helpless Uncle Ray kept flashing in her head despite Zachary's final assurance. A part of her wanted to believe her husband's words, but experience had demonstrated he tended to act like a a starving rabid dog whose favourite bone was threatened when she was concerned – incontrollable and insane.

Three successive knocks at the door woke her up from her misery. She both dreaded and longed for his visit. Wearily, Margo got up and quickly scrubbed her eyes before opening.

To her surprise, a fine-boned girl, probably in her early twenties, dressed in the household uniform was waiting for her. Margo did not recognise her. The blue eyed attendant greeted, allowing herself in the chambers. 

"Good day, Mistress, I am Lia," the girl bowed and lowered her gaze. 

"Please, call me Margo, we seem to be almost the same age," she smiled, trying to get the girl to raise her head. Formalities were a pain. When she finally did, a strange feeling passed through Margo seeing the current grin on the servant's face. It was suspiciously familiar.

"Mistress, I apologise, but I cannot address you differently, Master would be most displeased with me," the attendant hid her arms in her sleeves. "Master is not to be angered, he can be a dangerous man."

Noticing the movement, Margo's breath hitched. The implication in the girl's voice was clear. "Lia, let me see your wrists, please."

Lia remained immobile while she slowly tugged the material of the sleeves upwards, hoping she was wrong. Horrified, she gasped seeing the darkly bruised bite marks covering the servant's arms, wounds covering the entire elbow. No, she refused to believe what she was seeing. The man she cared about would never be able to hurt someone weaker than him. Abuse his power in such a horrible manner. Still, an insidious voice whispered that he had committed the very same crime to Uncle Ray in the not so distant past. 

Maybe she was just stupid enough not to see the truth for what it was. She pushed aside her protesting heart.

She was startled when Lia, now teary-eyed, pushed something in her palm. "Mistress, I have come to warn you of your friend Ray, I do not have much time before someone notices my absence in the manor. I have overheard your conversation with the Master, I am afraid for your friend's life. Please accept this before it is too late."

Margo glanced down. It was a piece of parchment. Unrolling it carefully, she identified it to be a hand-drawn map. The destination appeared to be the farm house where Ray was.

"My Gratitude, Lia. I shall go as soon as the storm stops."

"No, Mistress!" Margo was then tightly grabbed by the elbow, startled by the urgency in the girl's tone. Lia composed herself quickly, a strange twinkle in her baby blue eyes "I advise you to go now, I shall distract Master Zachary while you are away."

She should have realised that something felt wrong about the entire situation. But remembering Lia's wounds and her horrible nightmare from the day before made her accept without considering the risks.

Margo nodded gratefully, rubbing her arm. "I sincerely thank you, Lia."

Lia smiled again, something about that grin sending shivers down her spine. "You know what you have to do, Mistress."