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“We were married in July of 1315,” Philippe began almost joyously. “I was 20 years old, and she was 18. Even after all this time, that very day brings a smile on my face. After that ceremony, We had a long party at the reception. We danced, sang, and drank merrily. It was quite a celebration—the best that we ever had.
“A year later, we settled on a farmland just outside of Paris. We were both quite happy living as simple farmers. She also sewed clothing for a living. We never made much money for a living, but we always had food on the table, and we had made enough to survive on. That was always enough for the both of us.
“Then another year passed. She had happily announced to me that she was pregnant. That had happened on my 22nd birthday. How strange was that? Yet that was the happiest birthday gift she could give me—a child. Nine months later, I was even more delighted at the fact that she had given birth to my son, Geoffory Philippe Lexieverre.” Philippe sadly shook his head with a solemn smile on his face. “I was flattered that she gave his middle name after me.”
Philippe sat down, taking a few deep breaths. Telling everyone about his past was much harder than he could ever imagine. He knew it would be hard, but he never realized he would be this emotional about it. Yet he knew that if he wanted them to work with him in destroying Damon, there could be no more secrets between them.
“Once Geoffory was born, she had little time to work on the farm. She was still able to sew in her spare time—what little spare time she had, but it wouldn’t be long before we would need a new farmhand.”
“We went through one farmhand after the other. Finally, when Geoffory was five, he was able to help us on our land, but there was only so much he could do. Yet we still needed someone suitable to work with us—especially during the evening. There were very few who wanted to work during the nightfall.” A grim look fell upon Philippe’s features. “Finally, we found someone.”
“Damon.” The name fell hatefully from Lucien’s lips.
Philippe regretfully nodded. “Yes,” he said slowly. “He had told us he needed some place to stay and would work for us for free if we would give him a room in return. I had some objections—even back then, no one works for free for any reason. Mariam, on the other hand, was all too desperate for a farmhand. Geoffory didn’t have much to say about him at first. So, very reluctantly, I hired him.”
Lucien frowned. “What do you mean ‘reluctantly’?”
“There was something about this man I couldn’t trust, Mr. DeNieux. I didn’t want to hire him. I was very passionate about that with Mariam. Yes, we were a poor family, but that was beside the point. I was not usually the kind of man who ignores my suspicions. But we were worried about our funds—especially as far as our child was concerned.”
Lucien stared down hard at Philippe for a moment before he nodded. He remembered his own hard times as a mortal, and if he had been married with a child, and if his circumstances were the same, he would have done the same thing. “So then what happened?” Lucien asked.
“Geoffory got sick,” Philippe said. “We didn’t know what happened at first. He wasn’t even terrible ill in the beginning—just somewhat pale and weak. Then shortly afterwards he kept telling me about his nightmares.”
Lucien remained silent as Kaitlin turned to face him. She couldn’t dismiss the pale expression on his face as she squeezed his hand.
“He then confided in me one day that Damon was in it. He didn’t remember to much about it—he only knew enough that Damon wasn’t human.” Philippe sighed. “I dismissed it as a strange, childish nightmare, of course. Now, I know that was an enormous mistake on my part.”
Philippe wiped a blood-red tear from his eye. “That same night, he begged me to fire Damon, telling me he was a monster. I told him I couldn’t because we needed him on the farm. When Geoffory wouldn’t stop pleading about it, Mariam walked into the room. She was so cross with him, he would no longer bring up the subject again.”
Philippe choked back a sob as Jane stared at him. It was pretty clear that the topic was quite painful for him to talk about.
“Geoffory wouldn’t stop getting sick,” Philippe continued. “Finally, a few nights before he died, we sent for a doctor—more than one doctor actually. There was nothing anyone of them could do. Hours before he died, I saw two tiny puncture wounds on his throat. I had asked him if he knew who did that to him, and he told me it was Damon.” Philippe let out a deep breath. “That was the last conversation we ever had.”
Philippe remained silent for a long moment as he took a deep breath. This was the most painful part of his past he had ever had to share with anyone.
“Damon started acting quite suspiciously towards me from then on,” Philippe said. “But then, I was quite suspicious of him. As far as Mariam was concerned, well, she was never quite the same again.” Philippe looked around at everyone, facing them one by one. “The death of our only child had made her mad.”
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