Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

Rohan had thought that was the last time he would have to handle another human drama, but he wasn't prepared for what met him in Mrs. Bigger's home, where he had rushed to reach, not wanting the woman to lose her life before he got his answers, especially after hearing the words that she was on her deathbed.

The house was nestled deep in the local town, hidden within narrow winding paths, and he had to ask around more than once before he was finally directed to a small house, the pile of vegetables still in his hands. He used his elbow to knock at the door a few times before there was movement inside, and the door creaked open.

It was a young brunette woman with two long braided plaits and soft brown eyes who answered. She peeked her head out, looking up at him first, then down at the vegetables in his arms. Her eyes lit up immediately when he asked,

"Is this where Mrs. Bigger lives?"

"Oh, yes, of course. You must be Mr. Towson," she said, stepping aside to pull the door wider as though welcoming him in. "I thought you refused my father's payment to come here yesterday. It's good you changed your mind." She mused lightly, gesturing him to enter.

"You shouldn't have bothered with buying vegetables for my great-grand-aunt. I know father paid you to come bearing gifts for her, but she won't be able to have anything. Your presence was all she needed at this last moment."

The young girl's words revealed her mistake, she had taken Rohan for someone else. The man they had truly been expecting had refused to play along when asked to impersonate the dying woman's son, yet her father had insisted he would try again to change his mind today. The plan had been for this man, Mr. Towson, to come and act like the son Mrs. Bigger believed was still alive, though in truth he had been dead for many years.

And the girl, who had never met this Mr. Towson before but had only heard he was tall and good-looking, believed it was him.

Rohan, slightly confused, stepped into the small house, which was one big single room divided by hanging screens to separate the bed from the kitchen. The girl hurried forward, taking the heavy bags of vegetables from his hands as she continued to speak, her tone now practical, almost instructive.

"Papa must have told you that Grand-aunt Bigger has a sickness of memories and gets things mixed up? She's fallen into one of those sicknesses again, now believing her son is still alive and was serving in the military. For days she has been crying to see him, saying she has something important to tell him before she dies.

"Of course, her son passed away many years ago, in a fire along with her husband, who was related to my pa. She's never gotten over it, and now it seems worse. She believes that day never happened and insists she must see him. That's why Pa hired you. Please, be careful about her health, Mr. Towson, we don't want her upset. She has become more like a baby than a grown woman lately and gets easily distressed."

Rohan, who had been listening in silence, didn't bother to correct the girl or reveal that he was not the man they expected. Instead, he found himself curious, what exactly did Mrs. Bigger want to tell her son before dying? He knew he would never be allowed near her if they realized he was someone else.

And then there was the detail that caught his sharp mind, she too had lost her family in a fire, just like the Marchants, just like Isabelle… It was another interesting connection, one that made him decide to play along, at least for now, as Mr. Towson.

He still needed to get his answers, and he still needed to return in time to join his wife.

The girl put away the vegetables in the kitchen and came back, motioning for him to follow. She led him out through the back door into a quiet little garden, where flowers and plants grew in neat rows. Birdsong drifted from a single magnolia tree, its blossoms perfuming the air with their sweet scent carried on the breeze. Beneath it, a rocker had been placed, and there sat an elderly woman, her small body almost swallowed by the loose attire she wore. A cap was clasped on her head, pulled down nearly to her ears.

Mrs. Bigger sat unmoving on the rocker, staring blankly into the distance with hollowed eyes, her face marked deeply by age, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. She seemed more like a statue than a living person, her lips moving faintly as she muttered inaudible words under her breath.

The girl went forward and knelt before her gently. "Grand-aunt Bigger?" she said softly.

If the woman heard, she gave no sign, her gaze fixed on something far away that only she could see.

Rohan stood there watching, a strange heaviness stirring in his chest as he considered what he was seeing. The years, which had no effect on creatures like him, had completely transformed this once-living woman into something frail and ghostlike, a person already half departed, so wrinkled and pale.

Would there come a day when his own wife grew this old, with time eroding her body until she became unresponsive to the world around her? Unresponsive to him? To his love?

He didn't want to imagine it. He didn't look forward to that day. In truth, he could not even allow himself to believe such a day would ever come, for the thought of having Isa, yet not truly having her, was unbearable.

What he saw before him was a body whose soul had died long before the flesh would follow.

"Look who has come to see you," the girl continued, placing her hand gently on the woman's knees. "Your son has returned from the military training and has come to see you, just like you dreamed of."

Those words snapped the woman out of her lost world, and she swirled around so fast Rohan thought the effects would have broken her fragile bones, just to look at the people in front of her.

"My son has come… my son has come." She muttered with a voice that had turned shaky, and eyes that had become watery as she shifted them to Rohan, who was watching silently and patiently.

"My son. You… you came back." She reached out her trembling hands toward Rohan, and the girl turned to him and made a signal for him to come forward.

Rohan stepped carefully toward the old woman, then went down on one knee in front of her. She reached her trembling hands up to his face, and because of his height, he had to bend for her to cup his cheeks beneath his hat. He stiffened at the warmth in her palms and looked into weathered gray eyes that had grown teary.

"Oh, my dear son… how much I missed you, so much." A tear rolled down her winkled face as she moved closer and hugged him. "So long… you left me so long, and I… I couldn't tell you… how sorry I was… for causing you and your pa's pain..."