Dante curiously raised a brow, side-glancing her. “Studying?”
“Well, perhaps, saying studying is too much, rather I flipped through it. I don't know Heggas’ language after all but there were little notes and symbols written in known language to both of us. Not much but I found it pretty interesting.”
Dante listened to her, watching his footsteps.
“Some of the pictures,” she continued, “seem to be written with different inks or written much later, as the whole text is more dingy. I don't know if it's on purpose or she just swapped the inks but you can clearly see some of the little images that have been drawn have a different shade.” Violette's gaze followed Dante, waiting for him to say something but the cracking of the snow under the boots was the only sound stirring the air.
The awkward silence, settling between them, made her push the conversation further. She wasn't sure if Dante was thinking about her words, trying to come up with ideas or just didn't want to talk with her. As she learnedthis evening – he didn't like to talk about his past, and it was beyond just spite, he really didn't have any desire to talk about it. Out of fear? Regrets?
“So,” she tried nonchalantly but was cut off too quickly.
“You might be right,” the words left his mouth,
Violette curiously fluttered her lashes.
“I've been thinking about this book since we found it,” he went on. “To be honest, I am glad you looked through it. Perhaps you could notice something I couldn't, you are a part of the magic world after all.” His eyes slid to her. “Did you find something?”
“I think I need to investigate more,” Violette confessed.
“Fine, maybe, finally it can be a useful thing for once.”
She knew what he meant. She noticed how Dante didn't like Heggas and this book, partly because it belonged to the witch who cursed him, though she'd suspected he didn't like the magic this book holds overall. It's most likely Dante had learned a lot of interesting things that, probably, were unfamiliar even to some wizards like her, over the course of his long life. How much can you learn in centuries? It seems some things are incomprehensible even over thousands of years if you don't try to understand them. She gaped at Dante; he was extraneous to compassion and concern for others if they weren't useful for his affairs. Violette wondered if he'd always been like this? Just a few hours before, he told her that vampires don't remember what it's like to be human, andtherefore they themselves disdain human life. Does that mean that she shouldn't judge him too harshly? But she couldn't just accept it, letting him and the other vampires treat her and other people like toys.
Violette pushed her luck forward. “Was this book written by her?”
Dante looked at her from the edges of his eyes. “Yes.”
“How could she be a Hegga and a Queen?” She truly couldn't comprehend this fact as Heggas were known for being outlaws even in the wizard’s world.
Dante’s gaze fell to the ground as a stone under his boot bounced off to the side. “She had Heggas’ blood, but she wasn't a direct heir. You perhaps noticed she wasn't an old crone.” His jaw strained.
“She was beautiful,” Violette affirmed. It really made her ponder about her heritage. “She had a magic wand.”
Dante again looked at her from the side.
“I saw it down in the secret passage. I thought Heggas don't use magic wands.”
“She practices different magic. I am not really familiar with it,” he admitted.
“You seem to know a lot about her. Were you close?”
“I'm observant.”
It was true. She remembers how easily he exposed her worrying about her father when they met in the shop, he indeed had a keen eye to the details. But it wasn't an answer she wanted to hear.
“That guy…Nigel.” Violette’s fingers were tugging the ribbon on her cloak. “He has something against you.” She wasn't sure if it was a question or confirmation.
“Everyone has.” Another truth from his mouth.
She averted her gaze. “I noticed this.”
The questions were dancing on the tip of her tongue, however she saw Dante wasn't really in the mood for questions. But that guy whoever he was and whatever connections he had with Dante was making her exceptionally curious. If Dante wasn't a pleasant company to have, then Nigel was someone she'd rather eat her own arm than spend more than an hour with, not to mention days. The only vampire who seemed to be bearable, except Dante, was Caidas. Others were bloodthirsty and haughty, making her want to dissolve into the air.
After a short pause words left Violette's mouth on their own, “So who exactly is he?”
Dante didn't look at her, but still answered her question.
“Insolent idiot. A disdainful bastard. Mistake of nature. Call it the way you want,” his voice dripping with contempt.
