At some point I began asking about the apple trader who'd just vanished from existence. My father told me he'd changed his line of business and all contacts between the Karnsteins and Angel Hassenpflug had ended. The only boy whose eyes I could really see myself in had vanished. All I did was collect apples from trees with peasants to pass my dull adolescent years.
Until one night when I eavesdropped and listened to my father telling my mother that he had discovered that Angel was a descendant of the Sorrows. How ironic was it that I was on the verge of standing up to my parents and opposing the possibility of that? With my erased memory, I couldn't believe this to be true. But I had no means to know or be sure, and continued the lost haze of my teenage years, barely interested in life—when this should have been the best time of my life.
When I think of it now, my teenage years were the basis for the hell I went through later. I mean, what does a girl have when you take her face from her, and then you take her memories too?
Eventually, I grew bored of collecting apples. Then a few weeks later, I began losing my appetite for everything—all but milk and chocolates, which I began to crave all the time. I didn't understand why then.
My land's economy prospered and prospered, and my family had never been happier. None of this made sense to me. I was like a prophet before the words of God came down on them, knowing for sure something was wrong with the world around them, and that whatever rules, religions, or false gods people hung to couldn't be right. There had to be more—but I had no epiphany, and no alternate God talked to me.
Until Angel came back…
***
At first I thought I was being followed by some witch or stranger in the forest, or my father's warriors, who discreetly followed me everywhere in case I weakened and tried the Pond of Pearls again.
This time it was different. I knew I was being followed by someone I trusted. Someone I longed to meet. With each approaching footstep, I thought I was remembering what had happened to me.
The feeling of being watched was breathtaking, until Angel stood right in front of me. Right there among the dense trees and white snow in the middle of the forest. He had disguised himself, of all things, as a priest.
"Apple trader," I shrieked. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning creased through my mind when looking into his eyes. It wasn't really light, but a memory. Real memories: bloodstained, full of pain and pleasure.
I remembered everything that he wanted me to remember. That was why he had come back.
I warned him of my father's warriors nearby, and he smiled, almost pompously—he had taken care of them, but hadn't killed them, thank God.
"I'm sorry it took me two years." He held me by the arms, a look shimmering in his eyes, as if there was no woman on earth but me. "I thought I was strong enough to forget about you," he added. "I thought I could leave you be, to live your safe life without me and the sorrow I bring along." He stopped to catch his breath. "But I couldn't, Carmilla. I just couldn't."
"How could you do this to me?" I pushed his hands away. I didn't fear him as the son of the vampire king. I was angry at his foolishness in seizing the moment and believing in one heart. How could he not see how much my heart flowered in his presence, bloomed to the sunrays of his eyes?
"I did it because I care for you, Carmilla." Angel's eyes moistened. I couldn't think of a sincerer voice talking to me. This dark man longed for me in the strangest way. "It doesn't make sense. We're enemies. Our families are practically fire and ice. I'm designed to kill you as a human. I was created to rip the likes of you apart. I should drink your blood and leave your rotten corpse behind me, but I just can't. The years I've spent with humans, disguised as one of them, I ended up with a softer my heart. I spent so many nights wondering if there was ever a way for me to become one of you, and release myself from being a vampire. But every time I thought of it, there wasn't enough reason for me to become one. Until…" Angel shrugged. He almost looked away. "Until I laid my eyes on you."
"Angel…" That was all I said before I curled myself in his arms and began crying joyful tears. He was reluctant to hold me closer at first. Holding me was a big commitment. Both of us were signing a contract in blood, to be cursed by our families, and the world, for the rest of our lives.
In all those years living in Styria, I had always been squeezed in my father's arms, kissed and cuddled by Mother before sleep. Still, I never felt at home until Angel took me into the walls of his ragged yet tender heart.
He finally did. He squeezed me hard enough to forgive him for the lost years without him.
"Tell me something, Angel," I said. "Why do I feel so strongly about you? Although we've been through many things in a short time, it doesn't make sense. I am so into you."