Chapter 002 Inheritance

The Matriarchy – Compound of the Inheritor

“Julip,” Vincent called to his wife’s eldest daughter. Ugh! He’d used that singsong voice that neither Julip nor Dara could stand. Julip defiantly tossed her pixie-like chin to the side making her dark luxurious hair bounce defiantly over one finely boned elfin shoulder. Dara would have followed any ridiculous beauty routine to be as perfect as her petite cousin and the woman’s daughters. Alas, it was not to be. “Julip, I have addressed you and you will respond when I speak to you.”

“Yes, Vincent.” The young teen arched one elegant eyebrow as if daring him to call her on her antics as she coyly acknowledged him. It was no secret that Julip hated her stepfather with a vengeance. Especially when he interrupted her reading sessions with her older cousin.

“You have a meeting which you need to attend.” Still using that obnoxiously feminine voice that seemed to thrill his wife Attricia, Vincent tried to exert his authority over Julip.

“Oh yes.” Julip huffed through her nose, almost sighing with distaste. “Anothersuitor who isn’t what I’m looking for in a man.” Hopping off the marble bench that she and Dara had been chatting on before their interruption, Julip waved a farewell to her. “Later, right Dara?” She gave that pert, perfect smile that was all roses and sunshine but held the icy edge underneath which said or else.

“Of course, Lady Julip.” Though Dara was four years older than Julip, nineteen to the younger girl’s fifteen, she was still of a lower rank than her and must behave accordingly. Though Julip put on this big show of being cold and hard, just like her mother taught her to be, it was only a protective shell on the outside and she hadn’t yet quite turned into that kind of woman which the Freyan family was famous for producing. It was the kind of woman who had allowed the Freyan’s to rule the Matriarchy for the last six generations.

There was still hope for Julip yet and Dara smiled fondly at the girl as she left. Vincent for his part, stood stock still almost simmering while he pointedly ignored the child’s brazen attempt to rile him up. Well, if he couldn’t handle a child disrespecting him, it was no wonder he had to make his career in life by marrying a woman who would pamper and take care of him. Useless man.

“Daraleeeiiiii,” No matter how hard she tried, she was afraid that she was never entirely successful at avoiding the way her forehead and eyebrows crumpled as if in pain every time he used her full name. Especially because of the way he twisted the syllables to make it sound like he was calling her ‘darling’ as he simpered his flattery at her. “You really shouldn’t let her speak to you like that. You are of the same line and in the same place in the succession you know.” He lowered himself beside her on the seat she’d been sharing with her cousin and Dara had to snatch her favorite book away before he rudely sat on it.

“But we really aren’t in the same place in the succession.” She corrected insistently. In an unsuccessful attempt to avoid eye contact with the greasy slithering man, Dara lowered her head and let her thick dark locks fall around her face. “I have no place in the succession.” In the two months since she had been installed as a nanny in her aunt, Attricia’s household, the young woman had yet to figure out what game her aunt’s husband was trying to play. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it.

He fawned at her, flattered her, and spoke as if they were long friends and confidants. He implied through his actions that they were more. His clammy soft flesh came too close to her when he put his arm around her or took her hand. It seemed as if he was trying very hard to convince her that they had some kind of special connection, and all Dara wanted was for him to keep himself to himself. Besides, it was all a lie, a game. Men in the Matriarchy preferred their women petite, like Attricia and Julip. Not tall and broad like Dara.

“Ah, but your father was my wife’s brother, and any right that Attricia has, you have also.” Dara found herself snorting at that statement. They lived in a Matriarchy. Which meant that inheritance was passed only through the female line. Her father had been a useless male. He had no place in the family. That’s why he had gone away and come home with a foreign bride.

“But my mother is not even of our country.” It didn’t hurt that she was never really considered to be one of their own even among her kin. This was the way of it. “And therefore, I have no right to inheritance.”

“Yet you do have an inheritance my Daralei.” Vincent’s words turned hot and breathy and she didn’t realize until he was sitting down in front of her with a crooked finger tilting her face up by the chin that he was so close. “Your mother left you that secret treasure that everyone knows you have, yet you refuse to divulge to anyone.”

“No. There is no treasure. No inheritance. I have nothing.” So, it was this again. Yet another one of those men. He would try to seduce her to get her to share the secrets of the treasure with him. He would fail of course since there was no treasure. Then she would be accused of being the seductress. It was so… depressing, so droll, so repetitive, and unimaginative.

“I see.” The smarmy Vincent nodded his too pretty face sagely as if he understood some great secret had passed between them. “You’re afraid to reveal the secret to someone who will take it away from you. But I can protect you Daralei. I can make sure no one takes what is yours by right. And I can make sure you have your rightful place within your family.”

“What?” Shaking her head, Dara’s long tresses bounced around her head as she shook it. “I don’t have a secret. There’s nothing to protect.” Nervously the young woman scooted away from her admirer till he stopped her with a viselike grip on her thigh. The other arm came around her securely before the hand on her thigh started pulling the skirt of her dress up. “Please stop.”

“Oh, come now.” His hazel eyes were far too close for Dara’s comfort. This was not good. This was not okay. Her breath started coming in quick fits as she tried not to panic and faint. That would be bad. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been trying to show me how much you want me. Dressing so prettily. Smiling so kindly at me. Being so submissive and good with the children.”

“Qwa?” It wasn’t an actual word, yet it was the most eloquent expression of her shock at that moment. How could those listed behaviors have been an indication of attraction? Her plain governess’ garments? Pretty? Her attempts to not look at him; smiling kindly? Okay, she had to give him the last one because it was kind of true. Dara was great with the kids. But they weren’t his kids. She was definitely not taking care of them to get his approval.

“I’ve been thinking it over for the last month, wondering what to do about you.” Closer he got, lifting her hem higher and higher.

“Stop.” Again, she tried scuttling away and he came after her, the two falling into a heap on the floor, with Vincent on top. Drat. “I said stop it, Vincent.” He chuckled briefly and grinned as he successfully pinned her to the floor.

“You don’t really mean that.” His breath reeked of whatever liquor he’d been drinking and his fleshy lips were so wet and gross. What had Attricia been thinking when she married this winner? “You just want a man to prove that he’s going to be there, that he won’t steal your fortune and run off on you after you trust him. You can trust me Daralei.” Clearly, she couldn’t trust him. He didn’t listen to a thing she said.

Quickly he shifted his weight and made sure both of her wrists were secured in one hand as he used the other to finish lifting her dress up. She wriggled her body as forcefully as she could to get him off of her, but he only tried harder. “Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.” All of a sudden, her mind was on overdrive. The word echoed so swiftly that she wasn’t sure if it was actually coming out of her mouth or not.

“I’ll give you my child and then you’ll know that you can trust me.” His hand went to his belt and it was as if all the strength in her body deserted her at that moment. Her traitorous living shell gone limp with shock that he would even suggest such a thing. No. Not now. Please body not now.

His buckle undone, Vincent unbuttoned the front of his trousers, pushing down his underthings and pulling free his…. She had to stop panicking. Had. To. Stop. “You can look. I know you want to. You want to see the thing I use to put my child inside of you.” Revulsion rolled over Dara in waves. This wasn’t the first repugnant man to try such a thing. Luckily the last man had been interrupted. Attricia was at council, the younger children were with their tutors Julip would be dealing with a courting suitor for at least an hour, and Vincent had replaced all the loyal household retainers with those loyal to him not long after he moved in.

There was no one to interrupt this time. She had to do this on her own. Had to get free. Had to function. Loathing and disgust ripped up from her belly like she was about to vomit all of her hatred for him onto his face. And when that rising bile of blistering abhorrence reached the surface, she pushed at this vile little vermin of a man with every ounce of strength she had.

It was a lot more than Dara had ever thought to possess. Vincent’s body was smashed against the far wall. He slumped momentarily as he stared at her in shock.

“You Nefhilim bitch.” This wasn’t the first time she had faced the untrue accusation, but she knew that this time the words would hold far more weight than schoolyard bullying. “You bastard wench, I should have known that you were too tall and strong to be a normal woman. I’ll see you executed for this. I could have given you the means to power. We could have ruled together after you used your magic to get rid of Attricia. Now you’re going to burn.”

Dara ran then. This would no longer be her home. Like the boarding school her grandmother had fostered her out to could no longer be her home after the headmaster had bent her over his desk two and a half months ago as punishment for reading a book he disapproved of and tried to do much the same thing that almost happened now.

Where could she go? None of the other homes her grandmother had tried to place her in had been safe. There was no one who wanted her… except for the men. All of the Gods damned men seemed to pay an unhealthy amount of attention to her. Just not when anyone else was looking. Oh no. Ugly big-boned Daralei must be lying because why else would married men want anything to do with her?

Wasn’t there a convent, a temple? Someplace, anyplace where she wouldn’t ever have to be alone with another man ever? It drove her out of her mind. As it was, she still had to get to the Matriarch’s compound before Vincent could spread his lies. Even if grandmother wouldn’t believe her, Matriarch would. She had believed Dara about the headmaster even as her grandmother had tutted at her ‘wild tale’ and accused her of lying.

Until that moment she’d been traveling in random directions, trying to avoid people while she cried so that she didn’t have to look at the questioning or the pity in someone else’s eyes. Of course, she’s crying;they would think. I’d cry too if I looked like that. She was too tall, too broad-shouldered, too sculpted with muscles that many strong men envied. Dara had wide strong hips that would have been revered for childbearing if not for the fact that she was too tall also.

I look half Nefhilim. No one will ever want me. No man would risk marrying a woman who might be part-necromancer. What if she sucked his life out of him? It was stupid to have these same old prejudices so long after the wars had ended. But they were still out there. In the dark hiding places that they stalked the living from, those undead devourers of life still lurked. It was only her dark hair and tanned skin that had prevented open hatred from all corners. At least the Gods had granted her a small grace of not being pale and blonde.

Sometimes Necromancers spread their poisonous seed throughout the land and then hid again to watch as their unsuspecting children ravished civilizations. Now anyone who even looked like they might be part Nefhilim was shunned. Or burned. I’m lucky I haven’t been burned at the stake yet. What was she to do? Dara didn’t know. She’d never had a life plan. She just was. Whatever her family had needed her to be at the moment that was what she did.

The Matriarch would know what to do…