“Well darling, that’s the old law, no one uses it anymore.” Bianca remarked with a soft laugh. “And I don’t care for that Santino. He burned Marius and took Amadeo from us.”
“And burnt Claudia,” Nijah huffed.
“And that’s why I don’t like him.” she said, pursing her lips. “I would have loved to kill him if I had the chance.”
“I have met him,” She shrugged.
“You have? Well then, point me his way. There’s no harm in meeting an old friend.” Bianca said, laughing a little.
“Well darling, that’s the old law, no one uses it anymore.” Bianca remarked with a soft laugh. “And I don’t care for that Santino. He burned Marius and took Amadeo from us.”
“And burnt Claudia,” Nijah huffed.
“And that’s why I don’t like him.” she said, pursing her lips. “I would have loved to kill him if I had the chance.”
“Who’s there?” she asked softly, her voice eternally child-like.
This was rather interesting. A thought suddenly entered Montague’s head, when did she started picking up opera singing? He knew coming from a well known gentry family in Italy, she would have been trained from all kinds of skills that was seen fit for a proper lady. Embroidery, singing, playing musical instruments, or paintings. Therefore it did not surprised him that she knew how to sing and sing well. But to put such an voice of an angel to the career use….that would require some discovery and ingenuity.
He let his azure eyes gazed around the theatre. Even under the single light on stage, he could still see how beautiful the place was. Exquisite, intricate, totally divine. It was the first time he entered the Royal Opera house and he found he was agreeing with the vampire’s words, that this was somewhere very special and beautiful.
“This place is quite something.” He nodded, tugged his hands into his trousers’ pockets: “If you don’t mind I am asking, Bianca. When did you become a opera diva? Were you train as one when you were young?”
“Three years ago. I was discovered by Anthony Pappano, the musical director of this opera house. I wasn’t trained to sing until he discovered me. I had raw talent, he said, and through training, he taught me the techniques, and harnessed my full potential. But I have been singing since I was a child. Music is one of my passions, and there was never a night or day where my house was not filled with music. My mother had a beautiful voice.” she smiled, remembering how the soft lullabies her mother used to sing to her, lullabies that Bianca now sang to her daughter, and will sing to her children when they are born.
“Actually, when I was young, I was trained to ride horses and fight with swords by my Papa. My Mamma wanted to teach me all the things a lady should do, but I didn’t want to do it. Embroidery and keeping house is not really my forte. But I can cook though.” she said with a laugh.
So she was trained with some skill a gentry gentleman would wield as well as a Lady should. He must admit that was rather impressive. Her parents must had dotted her, it seemed. As for cooking, well, the majority of respectable families at the time would hired a cook below the stairs, so he would guess she was either learning it from the cook or from her mother, who may also enjoyed cooking. That kind of explained how she knew which poison to put into which food later one to achieve the maximum effect, when she was in the grasp of her relatives and was being force to eliminate their enemies during the parties.
“You can?” He arched his brow, feigning a surprise look: “Who taught you how to cook, if you don’t mind I am asking?”
“My Mamma, and the cook. Well, I used to sneak into the kitchens when I was younger, observing how they spiced the meat, or cooked a certain type of soup. My mother, though a noblewoman, loved being in the kitchen. It was where she would bring out all the love she had and put it in the food, which is why guests loved being in our house all the time.” she smiled, the faint remembrance of the spices filling her nose, and she sighed. “It turned out my Mamma knew I was observing, and one day, she taught me how to cook.”
Bianca curtsied gracefully low, and smiled humbly at him. “I am glad you enjoyed it. Oh, how I miss this place!” she looked up at the gilded balconies and private boxes, and when her eyes went to the grand chandelier, she giggled. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful opera house? Well, I know there are older and more grand ones, but this one is dear to me, as I have made my debut here, and I have made friends here. Who would’ve thought that a single place could hold so many memories of different people? It is quite amazing actually. And now it shall keep your memory of being here.
This was rather interesting. A thought suddenly entered Montague’s head, when did she started picking up opera singing. He knew coming from a well known gentry family in Italy, she would have been trained from all kinds of skills that was seen fit for a proper lady. Embroidery, singing, playing musical instruments, or paintings. Therefore it did not surprised him that she knew how to sing and sing well. But to put such an voice of an angel to the career use….that would require some discovery and ingenuity.
He let his azure eyes gazed around the theatre. Even under the single light on stage, he could still see how beautiful the place was. Exquisite, intricate, totally divine. It was the first time he entered the Royal Opera house and he found he was agreeing with the vampire’s words, that this was somewhere very special and beautiful.
“This place is quite something.” He nodded, tugged his hands into his trousers’ pockets: “If you don’t mind I am asking, Bianca. When did you become a opera diva? Were you train as one when you were young?”
“Three years ago. I was discovered by Anthony Pappano, the musical director of this opera house. I wasn’t trained to sing until he discovered me. I had raw talent, he said, and through training, he taught me the techniques, and harnessed my full potential. But I have been singing since I was a child. Music is one of my passions, and there was never a night or day where my house was not filled with music. My mother had a beautiful voice.” she smiled, remembering how the soft lullabies her mother used to sing to her, lullabies that Bianca now sang to her daughter, and will sing to her children when they are born.
“Actually, when I was young, I was trained to ride horses and fight with swords by my Papa. My Mamma wanted to teach me all the things a lady should do, but I didn’t want to do it. Embroidery and keeping house is not really my forte. But I can cook though.” she said with a laugh.
Montague only hesitated for a moment before he decided there was no harm for following her. He could see she was quite different than what he read tonight. Actually, almost every vampires he had spoken to over the last few days turned out to be rather different than what the organization had told him. It was either how they managed to trick the mortals or they had got something fundamentally wrong.
“Private performance sounded nice, ma’am.” He chuckled: “But I am afraid I am not familiar with the opera thing, you might have to fill me a little. I heard of Carman, but that’s about it.”
“Well, I think you don’t really need to have a certain understanding of opera to get it. It’s all about feeling the music in here.” she said and pointed to his chest. She exited the park and she led him to the side of the opera house, through the entrance that the performers and orchestra use. She opened the stage lights, and she took out a seat, placing it near the front of the stage so Montague can sit there. “Now, I shall sing to you one of my favourite aria’s to sing. I hope you like it.”
Bianca opened her mouth to sing, and it was as if by magic, the effortless notes flowed out, encompassing the whole opera house. This was one perk of being a vampire, she could raise her voice to painfully high levels, and whisper so that no human could hear. She regulated her voice to suit his hearing, and she sang of a dear name of a lover. Bianca loved singing, and she was blessed to have her beautiful voice even before she was turned, and she never flaunted it. She always wanted to use it to make people happy. She finished her song and gave a curtsy, smiling at Montague, hoping he liked it.
For a moment, he thought as if heaven just opened a gap before him and he just heard the angel sang. He vaguely aware it was from the opera Rigoletto, written by Francesco Maria Piave, based on the story written by Victor Hugo. He had heard it mentioned by one of his superiors in the past. As far as he knew it was a rather sad story. Yet from the tone of the diva’s voice and her expression, he had a feeling it was something about love, about someone deeply in love. It wasn’t sad at all.
He was not aware he had sat up straight, his elbows on his knees, and gaped at the vampire through her performance. He could no longer sense his surroundings. His senses were surrounded by the brilliant voice of hers, the soft tone of them, as well as the high tone. So this was opera, in the highest class he could have ever experienced. Right in front of him, privately, in the Opera House.
Why was she being this kind to him? In the mist of his reeling sensations, he found himself wondered once again. He was a total stranger, and should she read his thought, like several other vampires had done, she would know who he was and what he was here for. Yet she had shown him nothing but respect and friendliness since they met. He did not understand.
Why is that?
The songstress finished the performance. Her final note still lingered among the intricate plastered ceilings and walls. He felt himself drifted back to his body slowly and blinked at the woman with long blond curls before him.
“Beautiful.” He breathed, then he clapped his hands at the earnest: “Absolutely beautiful! Bravo, Miss Solderini! Bravo!”
Bianca curtsied gracefully low, and smiled humbly at him. “I am glad you enjoyed it. Oh, how I miss this place!” she looked up at the gilded balconies and private boxes, and when her eyes went to the grand chandelier, she giggled. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful opera house? Well, I know there are older and more grand ones, but this one is dear to me, as I have made my debut here, and I have made friends here. Who would’ve thought that a single place could hold so many memories of different people? It is quite amazing actually. And now it shall keep your memory of being here.
Let’s do a small research here, blood drinkers.
How many of you play with your food before eating them?
If I am in the mood, I play with my food.
“Come, follow me.” she said and smiled, beckoning him to follow her. “The opera’s not too far a walk from here. Well, since you seem to have time on your hands, I think it would be wonderful to give you a private performance. What say you?” she asked, smiling
Bianca knew the opera house from the inside out. From secret ways that the performers and orchestra use to get to the stage, to the quickest way to the restroom was. She loved the opera, and she thought that it would be devastating when there would come a time where she would have to leave and lay low for a while, as she would never age and people would start to ask questions. That was the hard thing about being a vampire, they always had to be on the move. It was like that with Nijah. They always were on the move, from France, to New York. They never had a permanent place, and Bianca secretly hated it as she was the kind of woman who liked to stay in one place and settle there for good.
Montague only hesitated for a moment before he decided there was no harm for following her. He could see she was quite different than what he read tonight. Actually, almost every vampires he had spoken to over the last few days turned out to be rather different than what the organization had told him. It was either how they managed to trick the mortals or they had got something fundamentally wrong.
“Private performance sounded nice, ma’am.” He chuckled: “But I am afraid I am not familiar with the opera thing, you might have to fill me a little. I heard of Carman, but that’s about it.”
“Well, I think you don’t really need to have a certain understanding of opera to get it. It’s all about feeling the music in here.” she said and pointed to his chest. She exited the park and she led him to the side of the opera house, through the entrance that the performers and orchestra use. She opened the stage lights, and she took out a seat, placing it near the front of the stage so Montague can sit there. “Now, I shall sing to you one of my favourite aria’s to sing. I hope you like it.”
Bianca opened her mouth to sing, and it was as if by magic, the effortless notes flowed out, encompassing the whole opera house. This was one perk of being a vampire, she could raise her voice to painfully high levels, and whisper so that no human could hear. She regulated her voice to suit his hearing, and she sang of a dear name of a lover. Bianca loved singing, and she was blessed to have her beautiful voice even before she was turned, and she never flaunted it. She always wanted to use it to make people happy. She finished her song and gave a curtsy, smiling at Montague, hoping he liked it.
“Opera? No, I have not.” He shrugged, lowered his gaze, aimed and kicked a pebble toward the side of the footpath: “Again it’s all work related. I do not have much privilege to stop at the big cities very often when my work assigned me aboard, Bianca.”
Or anything artsy for that matter. All he could managed is sitting in a few decent enough cinemas and watched some second run movies. Perhaps this time, with him stationed in London a little longer, he could manage to do a little more.
“Come, follow me.” she said and smiled, beckoning him to follow her. “The opera’s not too far a walk from here. Well, since you seem to have time on your hands, I think it would be wonderful to give you a private performance. What say you?” she asked, smiling
Bianca knew the opera house from the inside out. From secret ways that the performers and orchestra use to get to the stage, to the quickest way to the restroom was. She loved the opera, and she thought that it would be devastating when there would come a time where she would have to leave and lay low for a while, as she would never age and people would start to ask questions. That was the hard thing about being a vampire, they always had to be on the move. It was like that with Nijah. They always were on the move, from France, to New York. They never had a permanent place, and Bianca secretly hated it as she was the kind of woman who liked to stay in one place and settle there for good.
“Mm hmm.” she said, smiling, she suppressed the urge to giggle at the mention of Skia, her babies’ father. “He’s Greek. I always thought I’d be alone, as I had always been, but their father, he just gives me so much joy.”
Skia did give her joy, and though it would be quite hard for her to say it to him, she loved him. He gave her nothing but joy, he took care of her, and made her feel special. Something she hadn’t felt. Sure he wasn’t around sometimes, but he would always come back to her. A small smile crept upon her face and she looked down, her eyelashes fanned out against her pale white cheeks.
So he did not sounded like a blood drinker. Then what was this extra post-it notes in the report saying she and another vampire great, Armand, was to be wed? There were more and more question popped up inside his head as he watched the young songstress talking about her lover with a glow on her face.
“I am glad to hear the children’s father care about you so much, Miss Bianca.” He commented, still willed his face mildly interested, just as a polite stranger would do: “I suppose you will be marrying to him soon, then?”
“No.” she plainly said. “Marriage apparently does not suit me. It never did.” Her thoughts suddenly drifted to her ex-husband, and dark memories plagued her. She remembered him locking her in her coffin to starve, and as much as she wanted to use her powers against him, she didn’t want to. She loved him too much, and in turn, he hurt her, used her body against her will and starved her. She shook those memories off and she looked up and smiled at him.
“Have you a sweetheart, Montague? I hope you don’t mind me asking you this question.”
Bianca was asking him the same question many had asked recently. He found it rather amusing that Bianca so far had not barred her guard up and still treated him as if he was one of the friend she bumped into at the small grocery stores around the block. He tilted his head to one side and frowned as the vampire looked him with almond eyes of hers.
“No, Bianca,” He replied slowly: “I do not have one. I am afraid my work always comes first most of the time. It will be rather unfair for whoever my sweetheart, will it?”
“I see. Well, you seem like the man who takes his work seriously. That’s nice.” she commented. “Well, it wouldn’t be unfair if you can manage your time, but I understand why your work is important as well. It must a passion of yours, I suppose. Have you ever been to the opera, Montague?”
“Mm hmm.” she said, smiling, she suppressed the urge to giggle at the mention of Skia, her babies’ father. “He’s Greek. I always thought I’d be alone, as I had always been, but their father, he just gives me so much joy.”
Skia did give her joy, and though it would be quite hard for her to say it to him, she loved him. He gave her nothing but joy, he took care of her, and made her feel special. Something she hadn’t felt. Sure he wasn’t around sometimes, but he would always come back to her. A small smile crept upon her face and she looked down, her eyelashes fanned out against her pale white cheeks.
So he did not sounded like a blood drinker. Then what was this extra post-it notes in the report saying she and another vampire great, Armand, was to be wed? There were more and more question popped up inside his head as he watched the young songstress talking about her lover with a glow on her face.
“I am glad to hear the children’s father care about you so much, Miss Bianca.” He commented, still willed his face mildly interested, just as a polite stranger would do: “I suppose you will be marrying to him soon, then?”
“No.” she plainly said. “Marriage apparently does not suit me. It never did.” Her thoughts suddenly drifted to her ex-husband, and dark memories plagued her. She remembered him locking her in her coffin to starve, and as much as she wanted to use her powers against him, she didn’t want to. She loved him too much, and in turn, he hurt her, used her body against her will and starved her. She shook those memories off and she looked up and smiled at him.
“Have you a sweetheart, Montague? I hope you don’t mind me asking you this question.”
She shook her head and smiled. “No, I’m Italian actually. I was born in Florence, then when I was sixteen I moved to Venice after the deaths of my brothers.” her smile faltered for a moment, and she continued. “London is a busy city. Everything and everyone changes. There will never be a city and an inhabitant of it that won’t change, as change is a part of life. But the mist and shadows you talk of are always present. I don’t know why I decided to live in London. I guess it was because I just had to escape from the pain I felt when I stayed in New York. I got married there.” she scoffed and stopped to look around before picking a small flower from a nearby bush, twirling it in her fingers. “I could’ve easily gone back to Venice or Florence, but they still give me the sting of painful memories. I guess I could say London offered me a new start.”
The organization had a record of her marriage in their dungeon archive, if Montague remembered correctly. It was shortly afterwards, she arrived in London to join her friend Nijah, who had been residing in London for almost a hundred years. They did not figure out the link until they found out about Nijah earlier this year. To them, Bianca disappeared after Armand’s sighting in Paris. Therefore it was easy to see that they were totally rejoiced.
He nodded toward the young woman, as if hearing it for the first time, while tilting his head to looked at the pigeons picking the seeds not very far from them.
“I see,” He said at length: “So London is the place where you met your children’s father, yes?”
“Mm hmm.” she said, smiling, she suppressed the urge to giggle at the mention of Skia, her babies’ father. “He’s Greek. I always thought I’d be alone, as I had always been, but their father, he just gives me so much joy.”
Skia did give her joy, and though it would be quite hard for her to say it to him, she loved him. He gave her nothing but joy, he took care of her, and made her feel special. Something she hadn’t felt. Sure he wasn’t around sometimes, but he would always come back to her. A small smile creeped upon her face and she looked down, her eyelashes fanned out against her pale white cheeks.
He looked at her, a little warily, before nodded his head. Taking a stroll with a vampire would not be so different than trailing one, which was, to be frank, what he had been doing most part of his job. He ran his long fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and followed Bianca toward the direction of the park.
“The babies’ father must be thrill to have twins.” He commented casually, hoping to draw out the identity of the father. He wondered if it was another vampire, or some mortals by some magical reason, able to plant a seed inside the womb of a vampire that was no longer function.
“Oh he is!” she smiled brightly. Skia was absoultely thrilled to father her twins, and she was happy as well, and honoured to bear his children. It only proved that miracles can happen. “Do you have children, Montague? Or do you have any plans to have children in the future?”
“I do not have children.” Children. He had given up such a notion long ago. A vampire hunter cannot have what his organization called ‘baggage’. It’s a weakness those creatures could used against him should they known: “I do not believe those mini creatures and I are made for each other.” He shrugged.
“Ah, there are men who are like that.” she said. “It’s your choice. I’ve always loved children, and I never thought I could have one ever, then I got pregnant with twins, and I finally believed that miracles can happen.”
It still leave the unanswered question: How on Earth did she get pregnant? Why did his colleague failed to obtain such an information? It would shock the HQ to the core should they learn vampires could not sire offspring. The report his predecessors were really lousy, it was beyond ridiculous.
But who could blame them? They were trained to track and kill, not to observe and take note. To his knowledge, they were trying to kill Bianca once. It was Nijah who went and fetch her away to Venice. Failed attempt. Christ, they really need to do some basic training, those below his rank.
“I see.” He could not think of anything to reply.
“Sweetie?” she asked, opening a small tin of orange-flavoured candy and offering one to him. “When I feel dizzy I eat one of these.” she took one and popped it in her mouth, smiling.
“Ah, I see. I’m an opera singer at the Royal Opera House. Ive been singing there for three years already.” she smiled. “Would you like to take a walk with me? The park is not near from here, and I might need to sit for a while, my babies are getting quite heavy.” she walked ahead a little and looked back, beckoning him to come with her.
He looked at her, a little warily, before nodded his head. Taking a stroll with a vampire would not be so different than trailing one, which was, to be frank, what he had been doing most part of his job. He ran his long fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and followed Bianca toward the direction of the park.
“The babies’ father must be thrill to have twins.” He commented casually, hoping to draw out the identity of the father. He wondered if it was another vampire, or some mortals by some magical reason, able to plant a seed inside the womb of a vampire that was no longer function.
“Oh he is!” she smiled brightly. Skia was absoultely thrilled to father her twins, and she was happy as well, and honoured to bear his children. It only proved that miracles can happen. “Do you have children, Montague? Or do you have any plans to have children in the future?”
“Montague? Why, I haven’t heard a name in-” she stopped herself. He was a mortal and she almost broke the law by almost revealing her true age. “In a long time, well, since my home schooling days when I studied Shakespeare with my brother. Isn’t this night lovely? I love how cool the breeze is, and I wish I could take my daughter out with me, but she’s asleep and tired from the day’s activities.” she shrugged. “Well, I was spending the time looking at baby clothes for the twins I’m having, but company would do as well.”
Montague’s eyebrow nearly arched to the evening sky above. Babies? Did she just say babies? And twins? Something was seriously amiss with the files they had there. He was under the impressions vampires could not have children of their own. For their organs had altered and could no longer function like mortals did. He was fully aware of the young infant girl Bianca had mentioned. Lily’s profile was also included in the file he had received. Yet somehow his predecessor failed to mention the delicate condition the vampire was in. Christ, what else had they missed?
“I see,” He schooled his expression remain the same, a slightly interested and polite manner: “I suppose a congratulation is in order? How far away are you now?”
“12 weeks.” she said, admiring a small baby brush with intricate patterns. “And thank you. What do you do, Montague, if it’s no bother to ask?”
As much as Bianca wanted to read his mind, that would be most inappropriate. How would she feel if her mind was being poked and prodded for secrets? Well, he wouldn’t know. The temptation was there, but Bianca was determined not to give in.
He tilted his head and looked at Bianca with bewilderment. She was asking what he did, as if she had no idea about him at all, as if she was a mere mortal and could not read the others’ thought. Now why would she want to do such a thing? Any human, when giving choice, would jump at the first opportunity to read the others mind. He was astonished it wasn’t the case when the situation reversed.
“I am a private investigator,” Well, that much was true. It was who consigned him and where he was from that was needed to hide: “What about you, Miss Bianca?”
“Ah, I see. I’m an opera singer at the Royal Opera House. Ive been singing there for three years already.” she smiled. “Would you like to take a walk with me? The park is not near from here, and I might need to sit for a while, my babies are getting quite heavy.” she walked ahead a little and looked back, beckoning him to come with her.
