Currently Untitled
an excerpt

The brunette could see into the nursery, where each newborn infant slept with a stillness their parents prayed would last for a few more months. Her eyes were not focused the group, but a single blonde infant, curled up under a lavender blanket. The name at the corner, read Kent. The brunette woman’s face turned into a scowl as she realized that the infant was a girl. She should have been happy, but she was not.

A dark haired young man entered the hall. The circles under his eyes told of the hours of labour it had taken to bring the blonde into the world. He stood next to the brunette and looked down at the little girl, sleeping peacefully. His look was one of pride as he glanced down at the young girl. A healthy child, which was more than he could have asked for. He turned to the woman and smiled. His gesture was not returned.

Four more entered, and the brunette left the man at the glass, admiring his young daughter.

“I say we kill it,” she said, her voice low.

“Claire Kaetano!” the oldest member of the group said, glaring at the woman. “It’s an infant, what has it done to you?”

“We need a male child. Marcus, you above any of them should KNOW that fact,” she snapped at him. A blonde who had entered with Marcus tucked her hand into her eyes. With Claire acting like this, it was easy to see why Marcus held all the power.

“Please,” she said. “It’s another girl. She can be wed to another line.”

“Forgive me, Zandra,” Claire sneered. “I always seem to forget how much your families love to hide behind that. It’s a wonder how your girls got to be so beautiful when they’re pretty much inbred.”

“CLAIRE!” Marcus raised his voice, causing the brunette to back off the attack. “We did not come here to argue lineage politics. We came here because my nephew has had his second child. For now let’s leave the politics out of it.”

“Marcus,” Claire raised her voice slightly, only enough to get the attention of the others. “Like I said, your line needs a male child. It would have been better if you had been able to father a child on your own. I know you accept your nephew as your own child, but he is…”

“Claire, you just feel screwed out of the fact that you didn’t get to marry me,” a tanned man said, his arms crossed and a wicked smirk on his face. The blonde giggled, looking to the tan man. Claire sneered at him.

“You three don’t get it do you?” she continued. “The second child SHOULD have been a boy. The child should not have been allowed to develop. She…”

“Julia and I had enough trouble trying to conceive Jen. And you think you have a right to tell us that she should have been a he?” the dark haired man finally spoke. “You have no place to speak for our family.”

“The lines are weakening. And DYING, Matthew,” Claire said leaving the group. “Every female that is born means one broken branch. Do you know what it is like to have all girls?”

“You could have tried in-vitro,” the tanned man smirked again. “Then you could have picked out everything about them.”

“Oh shut up! You have no place to talk. Three boys, and all of them so much like their daddy,” Claire said, returning to her group. “No wonder you and Zandra get along so well. Your inbreeding and scheming for control of…”

“SILENCE!” Marcus ordered. “We swore we would not about this except in the confines of out homes. Claire, you should learn to keep a reign on that tongue or I will get one for you. As for you two,” he turned to the blonde and the tanned man who were exchanging looks, “I would advise you two to behave.”

“Of course, Marcus,” the blonde said. “It’s just been too long since we were able to have this kind of fun.”

“Haven’t you two heard of foreplay?” Claire inserted. Marcus rolled his eyes and helped Matthew from the room. The blonde and the tanned man followed. The fourth person who had entered with Marcus remained behind to look over the infant with Claire, who was still scowling at the prospect. She looked to him, before she blushed.

“I’m glad you came, James,” she said, her voice more like one that would come from a young girl rather than a woman of her years. The man said nothing, giving one little nod before looking over the baby, still asleep under her lavender blanket. “I did not mean to make an outburst.”

“An outburst like that, Claire?” James said. There was so much more he could have said about it, but right now it did not make much a difference. “You could have handled it much better.”

Claire threw herself at James, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m just frustrated that you cannot have what you wish.” She took a deep breath through her nose, taking in all of the smell of his clothes. It calmed her and comforted her in such a time. But James wasn’t really paying attention to her. He was more concerned with the tiny newborn girl, who had just woken up.

Small silver eyes stared up, and looked around, as though wondering where her mommy was. James pulled away from Claire to examine the infant more closely, leaving Claire with a new scowl. He looked at the infant, whose face had already begun to smooth out. James could have sworn their eyes connected, even knowing that newborns couldn’t see so far in front of them. His hand curled into a fist as he stared at those eyes.

Claire noticed the man’s change in demeanor and smiled. She approached him in the glass and smiled, placing a hand lightly on his back. “Shall I dispose of her for you?” she said. Her hand slid into her pocket to reveal a knife, encrusted with amethysts and sapphires. Before she could make a move, a clanking sound told him that the knife had fallen to the floor. James was holding the hand Claire had held the knife in.

“If you touch one part of her body, I will make sure you suffer a long, terrible death,” James told her. For the first time since she had met the entrancing man and very much for the first time that day, Claire was silenced out of fear. The light that burned in his eyes told her how serious he was, and she shrunk back.

“But… but…”

“You heard me, Claire. If you want to have anything to do with her, you will protect her,” he told her, his eyes burrowing deep into hers. “She needs it.” He threw Claire away from him, before bending and picking up the knife. He slid it into his pocket and left Claire alone in the hallway.

Claire struggled to get up, before looking back at the infant in the nursery who had fallen back to sleep. She bit her lip. “What’s so special about you, Jennivere Kent? You don’t even bear a noble name. Nor will you ever.”