Fandom Castlevania: Wounded [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

The islands of the Dodecanese had proven an adequate haven for Hector, and Dracula found the devil forgemaster still there to that day. He hadn’t been chased from Rhodes or too badly treated in his years since moving there, though Dracula was glad to find that his hatred for humanity was still in tact. It was a shame that he did not wish for the same genocide that Dracula himself did, but there was no pang of guilt in lying to him.

No, as his red eyes settled on the castle before him, Dracula would admit he hadn’t felt much of anything at all since Lisa had died. Even his hatred and his malice had dulled, though they were not at all gone. More than anything, he still craved his revenge, however he just wished it were already done with. That he did not have to go through the tedious task of actually exterminating others.

Tedious tasks such as talking to more vampires he did not care about, and bringing more people into his castle.

The castle before him was a marvel of stone, with flowers spilling out from it and gold glistening under the torchlight. The torches, more than anything else, told Dracula its resident must still be within, a vampiress that Hector had mentioned in passing as someone Dracula might want to consider recruiting. Given Dracula hadn’t recognized the name, he presumed it must be a fairly young one – he knew most worth knowing.

Youth was not often a good thing in these cases. The young ones were still close to remembering being human. Even if they chose to throw it away, it still seemed to hinder them. He was half-expecting he might have to kill whoever was in the castle as he approached it, the cobblestone path cleaned and easy to traverse up to the steps of the large structure.

His eyes found the head of the beast being used to hold the metal ring for the knocker, and though he nearly scoffed at it, he used it, rather than use his bare hands. Once his hand withdrew from it, he pushed back some of the strands of black hair that had fallen over his eyes.

He heard the sound even from outside, as the knocker’s drum bellowed within, enhanced through whatever architecture or auditory manipulations the crafter had installed into the castle to make sure they would know they had guests.

‘And why would you have guests?’ Dracula could remember never caring for such a thing. No one ever came to visit him. No one until Lisa….

And how he could still hear the sound of the hilt of her knife as she knocked to gain entrance to his home, to demand knowledge from him.

He’d never hear that again, and it caused his posture to slump slightly forward, the black cloak that was covering him seeming to pull forward more to hide his imposing figure beneath its folds.

It would all just be a memory, now.

Now all he’d hear would be the steps of the vampires who didn’t know they were just as damned as humanity, as heard the steps of the occupant within the castle moving, no doubt to check who had come to visit them at this late hour of the night.

He had come fresh from seeing Hector, after all. It was closer to day than it was to night.

~***~

Craiova was the location Carmilla had indicated in the letter that Antonia Pullus went over again while sitting in her carriage. Unlike Dracula, she didn’t have a magical moving castle – traveling in the day was a necessity, so she had a rather large carriage for such ventures, and human attendants she wasn’t about to see massacred by Dracula. ‘All for his wife.’ She could empathize with his pain, but his reaction was ridiculous.

The carriage came to a halt, and she heard those very humans speaking, getting a place to put the carriage and rest. Directions to an inn were provided, and soon they took those turns through the city, until they came to a stop and one came around, opening the door, “We’re here,” the man smiled and stepped aside, allowing the three vampires within to step out.

“Get things settled here,” Antonia gestured to the inn, folding the letter back up and placing it back on the seat of the carriage. She wasn’t dressed for combat, and didn’t have a single weapon on her. “I’ll go alone for now,” that was spoken more to the vampires, “I was the only one invited.”

“We saw some of Carmilla’s guards in town,” the blond human said, “Are you sure—”

“I’m sure,” even unarmed, the black-haired woman was hardly ill-equipped. Though her nails were shortened, she had all the reflexes of any vampire and could bring fire to her fingertips with a thought, as quick as any Speaker magician, though not with such variety. She hardly thought it would go to such a thing, though, even if Carmilla was one of Dracula’s generals.

The letter had implied that she was just as aware of how stupid this war was.

“Be safe, Rabbit.” A gentle hand was set on her shoulder by another dark haired vampire, his smile soft but tinged with worry. His gaze shifted only slightly when her red eyes met his, and she shifted her gaze to see the rather large crucifix in his sights.

‘Ah.’ Well, Craiova was a rather large town. Church presence was expected.

“You, too.” She said, though she understood why his concern was more for her. Her red eyes left no question of what she was, and even if they had – the pallor of her skin was inhumanly white, and her ears were quite visible with her hair pulled up as it was, corkscrews around her face, and dress as burgundy as the Imperial color of Rome.

She’d be called out for a witch, or demon, all too quick – but she imagined most were going to keep silent, unless this was a trap planned by Carmilla. “I suppose I can indulge your worry a bit,” she said, and pulled a few pins from her hair to drop it so they covered her ears. “Better?”

“Better,” he chuckled, and squeezed her shoulder before letting her go, while he went to take the steeds from the carriage and the others moved about preparing to get rooms and make this seem normal, while she left them, recalling the instructions from the letter to finding and meeting Carmilla.

 

[Blushing]

Evelynne wasn’t quite sure of exactly when she’d fallen asleep. But upon waking, she’d found herself drenched in a cold sweat. She felt absolutely awful. With a dull, throbbing headache that lingered just behind her eyes and an unnatural fatigue aching her body.

She’d managed to fall asleep on the sofa within her study. Laying in a rather unnatural position with an old book splayed carelessly upon her chest. The once roaring hearth had long since died out, it’s warmth replaced by a lingering chill and the faint scent of smoldering cinders. Evelynne shuddered, and had gone to rekindle the flames when she’d heard it.

Knocking. Faint, but distinct, the sound would reverberate throughout the keep and inspire a sense of uneasiness within her. Had that been what roused her from her troubled sleep? For a moment, she would stop moving and listen. Her heart threatening to burst from her chest as uneasiness gradually became fear.

A visitor? At this ungodly hour? Surely, she must have been mistaken. Since Lucilla’s passing, the castle had been devoid of visitors. Unlike Evelynne, she was quite social and often held parties and other events on their grounds. That all stopped upon her death, however. The warm, inviting atmosphere of the castle dying with her. Leaving its remaining inhabitant all since forgotten. Or, so she thought.

It’d been nine years since anyone had darkened her doorstep. Evelynne wanted so desperately to believe that it was her imagination. A remnant of a nightmare experienced in her dreary stupor. However, somehow, she knew it was real. Very real; and that fact frightened her.

Typical humans wouldn’t stray this far from their villages at this time of night. Not with beasts lurking about in the darkness. Though, she didn’t fear typical humans. It was the foolhardy ones with nothing to lose. The ones that had killed Lucilla and left her alone to silently suffer in her ceaseless grief. She feared those that disregarded the rumors of a monster residing here. Those who would have come with intent on slaying whatever was inside. No matter the cost.

Evelynne steeled her nerves. Swallowing the nearly painful lump in her throat as she’d begun to make her way to the foyer. This castle, these extravagant possessions, even Evelynne herself; were all a part of Lucilla’s legacy. As fearful and hesitant as she was, Evelynne was prepared to die to preserve it if need be.

As she hesitantly approached the large, oaken doors she’d find herself pausing. Listening to whatever lingered behind their threshold. Something definitely was there, and as far as she could tell there was only one.

She’d started slowly. Gradually unlatching each lock until a door would creak free. The old wood groaned in protest, threatening to possibly splinter if pushed too far. Evelynne let it swing just far enough for her to meekly peek through and see exactly who darkened her doorstep.

The man that stood before her was incredibly imposing. With tired, crimson eyes that struck fear into her very soul. This man, was no man at all. Somehow that fact reassured her, yet she still remained safely tucked away behind the barrier of the door. She’d silently hoped her vampire ancestry was obvious enough, lest she end up worse off than she originally imagined.

Her apprehensive gaze would meet his, revealing what was once hidden by her somewhat messy ivory curls. Pink irises. Somewhat glazed over yet clearly able to provide some vision. Her eyes, or rather, the skin that surrounded them was heavily scarred. Appearing as if she’d been mauled by something with rather wicked claws.

“Hello?” Evelynne finally spoke, her voice hardly much more than a distressed whisper. “What do you want?”


////


It was sufficient to believe that Carmilla had silently claimed Craiova in the night. While the people of the ancient township slept, she’d been hard at work ensuring the safety and secrecy of her rendezvous point. Months of rigorous planning had come to this one night of perfect execution and it’d all gone according to plan. By now, Carmilla’s men would have scoured and secured the city. Keeping anyone who’d threaten her or her potential ally at bay.

Carmilla and her entourage had arrived earlier in the night. Just as the moon had begun descending from its peak in the sky. As she’d expected, the streets were nearly empty. The only ones really still stumbling about being thieves and the town drunkards. Some stood in drunken, mystified awe as they’d passed. Others rightfully cowered. Their visage a proving a truly daunting barrier of claws, muscle and steel.

In between that barrier, rode Carmilla. With two iron-clad vampires at either side of her. They were donned in black and silver armor, which appeared as pristine as the day it’d been forged. Quite the immaculate display indeed.

The small entourage passed through the city towards its outskirts without incident. Perhaps it was luck or perhaps it’d been intimidation that kept the typical watchful eye of the church and its followers away. Though, Carmilla hardly feared their petty wrath.

They’d arrived early. By now, a thin veil of mist had begun to settle upon the horizon. Slightly obscuring the more populated parts of the city that now lay behind them. Gradually, they’d stopped encountering people as they strayed further from the heart of the city. Here, there were none. Just as she’d expected.

The location she’d chosen was an ancient, abandoned crypt. Visibly distinguished by the church bell that had long since fallen from its perch and caved the roof above. It wasn’t exactly glamorous; perhaps even a bit cliché. Vampires meeting to discuss treachery within such a dismal, death ridden place. It was safe and secluded, and that’s what mattered.

The entourage passed through a large steel gateway ensnared by wild ivy. Beyond that was a church. Or, the remnants of one. It’d long since been abandoned by both god and man alike, and its outward appearance certainly reflected that. However, that wasn’t where she’d be meeting Antonia. No, it was the underground crypt beside the structure. Like the church, its only stone entrance appeared aged and brittle. With small tufts of ivy growing through the steel bars of its partially unhinged gate.

Carmilla was the first to dismount. Two of her soldiers immediately followed suit, whilst the other two stayed back to tend to tie steeds. Her guards took the lead. After prying the gate open, they would descend the stone staircase that lead into the main chamber. They were down there for a mere moment before returning to signal that it was clear.

Carmilla descended after them, with the two remaining men tasked with keeping vigil over the one and only entrance. It was dark and cobweb ridden, but bearable. The vampiress sat down upon one of the many tombs that resided there and slowly removed the hood of her cloak. There was nothing left to do now but wait.

 

[Lucyfer]

Lock after lock was undone. Dracula listened to each one and idly wondered at the paranoia of the one behind the door. Though, given the state of the world and how treacherous those within it could be, it was perhaps a smart thing. He waited until the door eventually creaked open, revealing not a vampire.

No, if it was a vampire, the wounds around her eyes would have healed by now, and he frowned a bit as he saw them, and acknowledged the glazed appearance of her gaze, even if it was focused on him and not at all distance. They were aware of his presence, and his existence, but perhaps not as well as they could have been.

‘Not human, either.’ Dracula realized with another thought, even if ‘albino’ might have fit, given the color of her eyes and her hair. No, but she had some humanity to her, and it took him a moment to realize he was looking at a dhampir.

They weren’t exactly common in this world. Alucard was still something a novelty and not exactly embraced by other vampires…or embraced by humans.

His attention snapped back to the moment, leaving thoughts of his golden-haired son to the back of his mind as she spoke to him. There was no way that she was who he was looking for, but she must know who he was looking for. Her question was a bit rude, but at least it was to the point.

“I am looking for the vampiress who resides in this castle,” he answered her, “Is she present?” He wished then he’d gotten the name from Hector, but he hadn’t known it. “My name is Vlad Dracula Tepes,” he presumed it would be known. Almost all vampires of some power knew his name, given most acknowledged him as a king among them.

Plenty made a point to come out and meet him, even in his isolation, once they understood that. Even those who had chosen to turn against him now had once come to see him and acknowledge his position in their world and society. “If she is not present, I would like to know where she is or when she should return. I do not believe I am mistaken in seeking one here?”

He did arch a brow.

Perhaps this dhampir was the child of her? He hadn’t heard of any such thing, though – after all, a dhampir child would make him wonder how loyal the vampiress could be, given she would likely have an attachment to humanity still and not wish for their annihilation. That could make her troublesome, and certainly make him question what rumors Hector had heard.

~***~

The location of the meeting was somewhat cliché, but cliché came from truth. Vampires could meet safely in locations that humans avoided. Humans tended to avoid locations of the dead, or ruins, and the abandoned cemetery that Antonia approached seemed to be both of these things. The vampiress noted the guards outside the crypt, and she gave one a polite nod of acknowledgment before continuing forward.

Neither spoke to her or asked who she was, or what business she had there.

Perhaps they knew enough not to – or perhaps they weren’t expecting any other vampire to come that way. They likely would have stopped a human, or a male vampire.

The path was dark, dank, and covered with cobwebs and moss. It was easy enough to ignore as Antonia took each step, eyes adjusting well to the darkness. It’d certainly be a curse if her eyes didn’t adapt – she could only exist by night, by darkness, and so it was fairly easy to recognize the shapes in the darkness as she came to the end of the stairs.

Two more guards, and Carmilla herself, sitting upon a tomb, clearly undaunted by the fact that some would consider it a desecration of a sort to rest on a tomb.

Antonia tuned out the guards for the moment. They all seemed the same, covered head to toe in the same armor, nothing to distinguish rank on them, so she presumed they all held the same rank for the time being. She fixed her gaze upon the other woman, briefly wondering if they hailed from the same place or time, given the name seemed such a Roman one – but she didn’t know.

Carmilla certainly hadn’t been in any of the circles of Rome in the early days, before the Church crushed that presence. With how far Rome and her influence had spread over the years, it was quite possible the name was mere coincidence.

“Lady Carmilla,” she addressed the formerly hooded woman. She had briefly debated calling her ‘General’ as a reminder of the status she was considered to have. However, she opted for ‘Lady’. It was less offensive, as well as less of a veiled threat.

They were there to discussion the matter of Dracula and his decisions, and the gist of the letters had made it seem that Carmilla was not quite in support of him, despite her invitation to join him. Antonia had received a similar invitation, after all, but turned it down. “It is good to meet you in person,” so there was no risk of letters being interrupted, given the nature they had taken, “I am Antonia Pullus,” a proper introduction felt necessary, despite it all.

She did not step closer, nor offer her hand to indicate anything resembling warmth right then. She was still measuring the other woman before her, and wouldn’t risk stepping into a trap by stepping in too close.

It only took one stake.

 

[Blushing]

By the glimmer of disappointment in his eye, Evelynne knew immediately that she was not who he’d been expecting. The man’s expression would change, and quite suddenly she’d begin to feel insecure. Without even uttering a single word, he’d made her feel so insignificant. As if her presence were a mere hindrance in whatever business had had here.

It was almost spiteful. The way he’d gazed down upon her in his silent judgement. When he’d finally brought himself to speak, it was in a blunt, borderline rude manner. One that made Evelynne question why she was even entertaining him in the first place.

Lucilla. Of course, he was here looking for Lucilla. The man insisted that she retrieve her, or tell him where she was by just speaking his name. Vlad Dracula Tepes. It appeared that he expected her to just bend to his will as if his mere name held any sway with her.

Evelynne narrowed her eyes in a somewhat accusing manner. The name sounded familiar. As if she’d heard it in passing or perhaps in idle conversation. Yet, she’d spent the majority of her relatively short life within the safety of these walls. She was ignorant and sheltered, and his name meant nothing to her.

Like her, there was no way he could’ve known. He didn’t even know Lucilla’s name let alone that she’d been slain.

“I’m sorry.” Evelynne begun. Her tone soft and apprehensive. “You’re not mistaken but you are too late, I’m afraid.” The woman would trail off, averting her gaze as she’d did so. It was clear she was struggling to maintain her composure. “Lucilla, the previous vampiress of this keep, was slain some time ago.”

“So, Vlad Dracula Tepes.” Evelynne insisted, her tone turning ever so slightly spiteful. “It appears you have no business here after all.”



//////



Carmilla was genuinely flattered by her caution. A smile would spread across her ruby lips, and she’d chuckle ever so slightly. “It is nice to finally put a face to the name, my lady. It’s an honor to speak to you in the flesh.”

She’d shamelessly glance her over. Bringing her clawed hand up to her chin as she did so. She didn’t blame her for being hesitant. They were, after all, meeting to discuss treachery against the king of their kin. It certainly wasn’t a matter to be taken lightly.

“I’m truly grateful that you’ve travelled all this way for my sake. Welcome to Wallachia.” She spared Antonia a shallow nod meant to be a bow. “I’d love to catch up, but I’m sure you have no interest in idle pleasantries and want to get right into things. So that we shall.”

“It’s irrefutable that the old man has gone mad in his grief.” Carmilla hummed, seemingly quite sure of herself. “Dracula wants to eradicate humanity, and for what? Over a short-lived, misguided attachment to a particularly favored pet?”

She spoke freely and without worry. As if she weren’t bothered with the idea of possible repercussions from conspiring against their king. “He’s come completely and utterly undone, Lady Antonia. He plans on damning both human and vampire alike in his blind tantrum across the land.”

“You’d think his council would be able to talk some sense into him. But, of course, they’re blinded by fear and loyalty. Unable – or unwilling rather, to see what’s right in front of them. Honestly, it’d be comical if it weren’t so disheartening.” Carmilla’s rant sounded more like mere gossip than it did an actual accusation.

“I intend to dethrone him.” Carmilla purred, clearly unbothered by blatantly baring her ambitions. “And I’m sure you have allies you’d like to protect from his intent.”

She knew of her human attendants. Word spread quickly among her soldiers that had caught sight of her entering the city. Carmilla wasn’t exactly all that surprised. Humans, admittedly, did make good beasts of burden. Though, with how they’d been described, she doubted they were simply that. She cared for them, and they for her. A touching display of fraternity between the lion and the lamb; and a perfect opportunity for her.

 

[Lucyfer]

At first, the dhampir before him started out apprehensive, and Dracula thought his name must have been known as she offered him an answer. The vampiress, Lucilla, was dead. Slain. He felt more disgust rise up in him and he tossed a glance over his shoulder, as if expecting those responsible would be there. Of course, there was no one – no one but the dhampir before him, who could have passed for albino.

When her tone changed and sharpened, his red eyes flicked back to her. The way she enunciated his name suggested she had no idea who he was. That was enough of a surprise, both the tone and that realization, for his brows to raise as he looked down at her and tried to read her own expression.

His brows lowered, his expression turning pensive.

It’d been almost too long since anyone challenged him. Alucard was perhaps the last…and now Alucard was gone. Lisa, before him…and she was gone, just as well. Perhaps he’d grown too soft….

“So it would seem,” though he mused the thought aloud, he stepped forward rather than back, his imposing shadow falling across the threshold and so, the dhampir inside, “Except that I wish to know who slew her, and what information you have on it. It is curious that you were not slain alongside her.”

His tone didn’t suggest curiosity, however.

It suggested accusation, that she may very well be responsible for having slain Lucilla and then taken up residence in Lucilla’s home instead. Humans didn’t seem to care much if one was a dhampir or a vampire, though some dhampirs could pass for human when needed. Not Alucard.

Not this one before him. Her features were too inhuman to ever be mistaken for it. “Won’t you invite me in?” It was unlikely, but he asked all the same.

If the dhampir had nothing to hide, he had no reason to harm her. Dhampirs weren’t human…and it was possible she’d gone unnoticed, unknown. Hector hadn’t mentioned her. She might be hiding out here to avoid being slain, just as well, but his mind seemed to always linger towards the worst options, rather than the best ones. He’d never been an optimist in his life, not even with Lisa around…but at least then he could humor some of those positive thoughts.

~***~

Carmilla spoke with a certain lilt that Antonia was familiar with in dealing with saboteurs. It made her wonder if Carmilla was even aware of it, as her tone danced over flattery as easily as her eyes did, and the lilt seemed to suggest a certain…well, Antonia didn’t have the word for it, but it made the listener not want to take it as seriously as it should be taken. It was a way to appear not as intelligent as one was, to be underestimated.

She'd heard that tone enough amongst her spies in the early years, when she was gathering information. Women were quite useful – and so many mastered that art of seeming not at all imposing, with flattery and deferential words, and that gossipy lilt.

Though she wanted to smile at the familiarity of it, she kept her expression stoic, listening to the words more than the tone, waiting for Carmilla to get to the heart of it and trying to make out the importance of those things that weren’t at the heart of it. “I have allies I would like to protect from the intent of many, Lady Carmilla, and I have made no secret of it. My stance against Dracula is an open one, unlike yours, as I hear they still consider you to be a General in his army.”

No one was going to make that mistake with her, unless she had a change of heart, which was quite unlikely. “Had he stuck only to the Church, or those who caused him this grief, I would not have minded, but I am aware that his plans include genocide. Even if I were not so attached to humanity,” she allowed a sly smile to touch her lips, “I could hardly abide starving to death.”

Personal attachments were one thing, of course, but it seemed that quite unlike Dracula she knew how to deal with grief and loss. She had lost hundreds over the centuries. It came with the territory of befriending humans. Their lifespan was akin to a pet, and she’d not argue with Carmilla’s choice of words. “I am pleased to hear that you are not so blind or suicidal as his other followers, but it does beg the question of why I’ve heard nothing of Styria preparing for a war, and why people still speak of you as a General of Dracula,” she gestured with one hand out towards the other woman, “You either intend to destroy him from the inside, or you are looking for a life line.”

That could be why she sought to meet with her, to pull herself out without being murdered by those who followed Dracula once they learned the truth. Styria was not so large as other territories, mostly overlooked, rather like Carmilla herself in the larger game. ‘No wonder she’s developed that lilt….’ And it was that thought which led Antonia to consider that fleeing likely wasn’t Carmilla’s plan.

Saboteurs had their place in every war.

 

[Blushing]

In an instant, whatever nerve Evelynne had managed to muster had vanished. Leaving her stunned in flustered silence as Dracula made his steady advance. His eyes flickered with hellfire and his tone seethed in condemning malice as he demanded to know more. More about Lucilla’s slaying. More about her.

Evelynne was surprised, no; she was offended by his blatant disrespect. He’d come to her dwelling in the middle of the night and started making demands and halfhearted accusations. Now, he stood before her with a spiteful glint behind his eye. As if she was the one at fault here.

If he had known Lucilla, he would have never suspected such a thing. It was a laughable thought, though. That a petite, meek creature like Evelynne would nor could even consider conspiring against an established elder vampiress like Lucilla. Regardless, the man persisted. Now insisting she bade him permission to enter her home. Lucilla’s home.

He must be mad to think she’d willingly invite him inside. Though, she knew her preference meant very little to him. His intent was clear, and she didn’t really have a choice. Providing the illusion of one was just a pleasantry.

Evelynne relented, albeit unwillingly. “Very well, Vlad Dracula Tepes.” Her words were soft yet hollow, barely above a whisper. “If you’d please…" The old oak would groan in protest, but gradually the door would open. Revealing the visibly apprehensive dhampir inside.

The keep’s interior was truly extravagant. Golden fixtures and furniture, freshly cut flowers, and pieces of beautifully crafted artwork. The dhampir who stood before him was no different.

Evelynne donned a lengthy ivory gown sewn in sheer and silky fabrics. By the way it complemented her petite figure, it was clear it’d been custom tailored for her. Messily loose, snowy curls cascaded down her shoulders. Appearing as if they’d only recently been ruffled. She bore no jewelry, yet she certainly didn’t appear out of place amidst the luxury.

“Come now.” Evelynne greeted with a slight bow. “You are welcome. Please close the door in your wake.”

She awaited his approach, and once he’d made his way inside, Evelynne would beckon him to follow down a neighboring hallway. It was poorly lit, with only one door amongst the many that were open. Behind it, a light shone faintly.

Evelynne entered, leaving the door open for him to follow. Inside, there was two lavish sofas, towering bookshelves, an intricate fireplace and above that was a large gilded portrait of Lucilla herself.

The dhampir set to rekindling the fire, expecting him to make himself comfortable in the meantime. Once she’d managed to ignite something respectable, she’d return her attention to him. Taking her place on the nearby unoccupied sofa and drawing a deep breath.

“My apologies.” Evelynne had begun all too casually. Her tone meek and apprehensive. “It’s not every day I have company. It’s been – ” She trailed off quite suddenly, falling silent for a moment before bringing herself to speak again. “No. Lucilla.” Her gaze would trail off of the vampire before her and up to the portrait. “Shall I start from the beginning, then? On…how it happened?”

\\\\\\

Carmilla would give a soft, thoughtful hum as a knowing smile crept across her face. She wasn’t quite sure why, but Antonia had already roused her interest. “What you’ve heard is correct.” The vampiress purred. As far as they knew, she was just as loyal as the rest of them. She couldn’t risk being exposed in her treachery, after all. Not this early. Nearly everything relied on Carmilla’s ability to maintain the illusion of her allegiance.

“Though, as good as it’d feel to openly bare my ambitions to the world, I’m afraid my current position is too advantageous to forsake.” Within his court, she held sway. Not just over the council themselves but the methods that could be considered by Dracula. “They trust me, for now. Heeding my advice just enough to sow seeds of doubt within those more lenient with their loyalties. These plans for genocide are a great concern, after all. For humans and vampires alike.”

Vampires couldn’t feed on loyalty. A simple revelation, and yet it was baffling how many elder vampires still stood firm in their belief in their lord. Seemingly content by the idea of breeding and bleeding animals to sustain themselves. “Yes, starvation is a concern for…a few others. ” She’d tilted her head in a casual shrug. As if even she couldn’t believe what she’d just said. “Though, apparently, it isn’t as pressing of a matter as being ripped apart by a raging madman.”

Of course, she’d ask why she wasn’t rallying her own soldiers against him. Carmilla obliged the inquiry, answering as genuinely as she could. Something quite rare for her. “The old man has been blinded by his grief and desire for revenge. But he is no fool. Having even a trivial region like Styria openly preparing for war would see my efforts quashed before my forces could even reach the castle. Surely, if he was to discover my treachery, he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy me, my soldiers – my entire country.”

“You, however…” The Vampiress continued, her grin never fading. “I admire you. You openly oppose Dracula, and yet – he hasn’t saw fit to neutralize or even address Alamannia. Even so, conflict is inevitable. I want to help you protect your people, Antonia. Your own country.”

Carmilla would flash a devious grin. “I need allies. Permanent, more reliable allies. I cannot forsake my position yet, but I can offer you something else in exchange for a silent pact. I’ll spy for you. You’ll conveniently know everything. From his current war plans to the location of the castle. Of course, if that’s something that you’d be interested in.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Despite the way that the woman shrank before him, she still had enough spite to spit his name like a curse ,and it caused Dracula’s nose to wrinkle in annoyance. It did not stop him from stepping across the threshold once he was allowed, and he did have the courtesy to pull the door shut behind him, before he was taken in by the grandeur and opulence of the home he was brought into, still kept up.

Lucilla was, evidently, not a scholarly woman.

He could easily imagine jealous humans coming to strike out at her, particularly if Lucilla used some form of tax or protection fee to fund her extravagant life…if she even bothered to pay for all that was here. He followed after the dhampir who’s name he still lacked, until they reached a lounge with a fire burning in the hearth. He stepped in, and again, shut the door after himself before taking in the images.

Lucilla did strike him as an imposing figure – at least, to humanity, in that portrait that was depicted over the room. She certainly wore quite a bit more in the way of jewelry than the dhampir, though his eyes strayed back over to her. Despite the lack of such adornments, the embroidered and fine clothe indicated that Lucilla must have had some care for her. The attire she wore fit too perfectly to have been stolen from the vampiress’s own closet.

Was it care for a servant? Some would deck out their servants just to show they had the funds to waste.

Somehow it didn’t seem that way, given the lack of others present here – unless they’d all fled after the death of Lucilla. Though, that would only stand to prove that this dhampir was not like them, and her relationship with Lucilla was something different.

Again, his eyes strayed to the portrait, looking for something like resemblance, but he didn’t find it in Lucilla’s image. The snowy dhampir did not resemble the portrait in the least.

‘Not that many can claim Alucard looks of you.’ He had his mother’s hair. His golden eyes were a mystery. Perhaps he held some of his regality in the way his face was shaped, but…no, Alucard did not resemble him greatly.

When the dhampir began to speak, his gaze left the portrait to see she had settled into a couch. He glanced at his options, and went to occupy a seat across from her, a low table between them. He did not sink into the soft cushions, but remained a bit rigid as she apologized, trying to play off that meek act again after being so spiteful before. Perhaps it was sincere, given the apology, but he doubted it, eyes trained on her face, looking for a hint of deception.

He only relaxed as he didn’t find it, but not quite sinking back or losing his posture. “Start with your name, if you would. I realize I have been rude in not asking and immediately accusing you of action against her. Tell me how you came into her household,” he invited, trying to put some warmth into his voice as his own way of tempering his earlier approach.

They were both off to a bad start. He wasn’t exactly used to company anymore, either…nor did he care much anymore, and he shouldn’t have cared how Lucilla died. The dhampir had been right, his business should have been done, but now he sat here, lingering to hear how another vampire had been killed when it shouldn’t matter at all to him.

Was it because a dhampir was before him? He was tempted to chalk it up to that, and not the fact that she’d been confrontational enough to annoy him. To remind him….

~***~

So Carmilla was intending to play the saboteur, and in a way, she was also looking for a hand. If it all went to hell and she was revealed, she would have a place to run – assuming she could get out, assuming Antonia opted to help her. “Dracula knows my history,” Antonia noted in explanation for why Dracula hadn’t yet attacked her, “He’s given the humans a year. He is gathering his forces not only for them, but for those like me. I imagine that once he has his army, my home will be among his first targets – once he is done with Wallachia.”

Distance was nothing to Dracula, but it was likely he’d still try to deal with Wallachia first before turning his sights on other places. There were others like her, she knew – Egypt’s vampiric leader was rallying to stand against him, as well, the so-called “Sun God” of the vampires.

He was madder than Dracula, but at least his madness was left to fester in Egypt and he was mostly harmless.

What Carmilla offered was of interest, there was no denying it, but she had left out one key thing: “I am already going against Dracula, without your help,” she pointed out, “offering to assist is welcome, if you understand you will be left out of the loop of my plans.” There was the chance that Carmilla would play double agent. “More importantly, I need to know what you want out of this arrangement, Carmilla. You’re offering me help for something I needed no persuasion to do, and you want a permanent ally. You mentioned usurping Dracula. Are you intending to place yourself as the new Queen of Vampires, and you’re seeking allies to help you hold that after Dracula has fallen, or is there another matter at hand?”

Antonia would enter no agreements without being aware of what was involved, and what was expected.

Given…she was fully aware of how dishonest anyone could be. She’d seen enough ‘knives in the senate house’ in Rome. Words were wind.

Even so…Carmilla took a risk in coming out here to arrange anything at all.

Antonia hoped she would take a risk in baring her actual ambitions, even if she hesitated to do so in front of Dracula and his generals.

 

[Blushing]

Evelynne was unsettled by the way Dracula’s gaze shifted around the room. When it’d finally found her again, she’d look away. Unpleasant was hardly a way to describe it. That sharp, condemning glare that betrayed him even now.

The vampire spoke warmly. Or, he’d tried to. A halfhearted attempt to ease her mind and quell any lingering tension between them. Evelynne’s expression remained somewhat stoic; appreciative yet unconvinced by the sudden shift in tone.

“My name?” She’d replied rather softly. Evelynne had only then realized that in the midst of this nightmare she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to introduce herself. Or, rather, maybe she hadn’t wanted to.

“Evelynne.” She’d answered with a clear air of uncertainty. “Evelynne Averell.”

The name had come easily enough, but the story of how she’d come into Lucilla’s home was a long and tedious one. One she hardly had the strength nor will to recount. After drawing a deep, defeated breath; Evelynne would fold her hands upon her lap and clear her throat, preparing to speak once more.

“…I met Lucilla quite some time ago.” Evelynne began, her tone somewhat weary. “I can’t say it was under particularly pleasant circumstances. I’d come to her door an absolute mess. In tears and rags, having just fled the squalor of the human village I was born in.” Evelynne’s eyes fluttered, then closed. A faint smile beginning to spread across her cheeks. As if she were reminiscing.

“Lucilla though…she was radiant. Even in the throes of panic, I’d found myself positively smitten. Nothing like the horrible monster the humans had made her out to be.” Evelynne’s smile gradually begun to fade as she’d continued. “Knowing what I was she took me in. I thought I’d only weather out the night before leaving in the morning. Yet, come first light, she’d insisted that I stay…and how could I deny her?”

The meek dhampir’s voice trembled. “Saying it aloud makes it seem so…trivial. Yet, it’s impossible to describe the impression Lucilla had on me that first night. For once, in my short life, I’d felt safe. I’d felt happy. So I stayed.”

“Days, months, years…and then decades passed. I was introduced to Lucilla’s inner circle, and discovered a whole new world here in her extravagance. It was like a dream, and everything was perfect…until she died.”

\\\\\\\\\

“The people of Wallachia won’t willingly submit to Dracula.” Carmilla hummed. “Despite what they may think, the mortals can’t wage this war. However, their casualties are mostly irrelevant to us. As long as they defy him, the window of opportunity to protect those outside of its borders will stay open.”

For the first time since they’d met, her tone remained thoughtfully confident. “If we approach this with the appropriate finesse it isn’t likely he’d ever get as far as to personally see to you and other foreign threats.”

Carmilla couldn’t really blame her for being cautious or questioning her motives. They were speaking of treachery, after all. Deception certainly wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. “I understand your reservations and hardly expect you to commend your war plans to me so early – if at all. I’m the one proposing betrayal here. I’d be foolish to expect anything less.”

“…As for what I want?” The vampiress purred, her eyes glimmering with desire. “To secure a future for our people, Lady Antonia. Humans too – and myself. Once Dracula falls another must rise to take his place, and I do intend to bear that burden. Though, to call me a queen would hardly be necessary.”

The vampiress chuckled softly, somewhat amused. “However, yes, possessing allies will be necessary. If I’m to hold the throne, I’ll need them to keep those seeking retribution at bay.” Of course, she had her loyal countrymen. But even she questioned if it would be nearly enough.

“I won’t expect you to linger when the smoke clears, of course. But having someone as influential as you at my side would certainly be a benefit. Even so, I think we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves – aren’t we?”

 

[Lucyfer]

Nothing about his tone softened the dhampir at all. Her expression remained fairly stoic, an odd pairing with her soft voice. Yet, still, she did not seem to avoid any question he asked, or falter. Her name was given – Evelynne. A fitting name for a dhampir. ‘Eve’.

He could not help but think it. There were few dhampirs out in the world, that he could only imagine plenty ended up with names akin to Eve or Adam, imagined in the eyes of their loving parents as those who could be founders of new bridges between humanity and vampires, or else as the start of their own race.

What naïve fools. ‘It must have been the human who named her.’ He did not ask, though. He presumed it was the mother, as well. Pregnancy among vampire women was rare, from either vampires or humans. Their main source of ‘children’ remained the standard process of turning a human to a vampire.

Or adopting others in, as Lucilla seemed to have done with this girl.

Smitten was indeed one way to describe the way the young dhampir still spoke of Lucilla, seeming to think nothing could have, or should have, been denied her. He took another glance at the portrait, not seeing it himself, but then again there weren’t many who understood his tastes. Humans had burned who he loved, and other vampires rarely considered looking to humans as anything other than food. Livestock.

They forgot humans could think and act, reason and strategize. It was why he took his time in preparing, and why he sought the forgemasters he had the pleasure of meeting.

His gaze returned to the trembling dhampir, not interrupting her story to confirm her concerns that it was all trivial. Perhaps it was, but what did it matter? He knew what it was to be smitten over trivial things, like the way Lisa had apologized for eating a bit of garlic – as if he’d care. But she had been so concerned, rather than afraid…yes, he’d been smitten early.

This much, he could understand, and he envied Evelynne the decades she had with her Lucilla.

“What happened?” He asked, lifting his hand and circling his wrist a bit, gesturing out, “Who killed Lucilla? Where were her friends and her inner circle?”

Perhaps, most importantly, “Where were you?”

It was a question he’d asked himself enough.

He had been so close. He had nearly been home…but it was too late. It was all too late, and he would never stop criticizing himself for it.

He never should have listened to Lisa.

He knew humans better than her. He knew how cruel and stupid and monstrous they could be. He should have insisted on at least hiding her lab better – or given her a mirror that she could use to travel – anything, he could have done anything better.

And while he would never forgive himself for this lapse, he knew the fault still rested on humanity. They were the ones who took her, that trusting, kind woman who only wanted to help them.

~***~

‘If at all?’ Now that did arch an eyebrow from Antonia, and in spite of herself, she felt her expression soften. The woman wasn’t asking for battle plans, nor did she seem to desire to ask for them. She may be content to relay information and hope Antonia used the information to end Dracula? It was a rare spy who would hope for such a thing, to be left in the dark entirely, and risk being killed in an attack.

Carmilla was confident.

Apparently, in herself, and in her choices.

She sought to be the new leader of them – but did not expect Antonia to hang on. She sought her help now, but seemed to think she may be able to handle keeping the vampire world, and likely, the human world at bay long enough to secure her position. There was some deception there, something wrong with all of that, but if Carmilla was expecting nothing…demanding nothing…there was little risk.

She would have time to weigh whether or not she chose to support Carmilla. In truth, she didn’t care. Dracula as king had never impacted her much. To her it seemed almost as if it would be better if there was no one propped up as a monarch.

“I do not believe you have ever played at war before, Lady Carmilla, if you believe questioning the motivations of your potential allies is getting ahead – or else you presume I have not, which would be a grave error on your part,” Antonia answered, but not without a smile this time as she went on to add, “It is good to know your aims. It means I know what you would betray me for, and what I would have to defend in myself, as well. Trading one monarch for another only makes sense if I can claim to support your desires.”

Knowing more would be relevant later. “You are fortunate that I tend to trust selfishness over all else, so for the time being, I can see working alongside you to dethrone Dracula. At that point, I will certainly be interested to learn your plans as…hm, Empress?” If not Queen, what better title? “to see if I find it worth supporting.”

If not, she’d have the task of taking down Carmilla. After all, not to do so would be to imply she agreed, given her hand in putting Carmilla in such a position. Carmilla was fairly lucky that Antonia had no such ambitions of being the monarch herself – it was too tedious for her, in truth, and she’d be too inclined to take it seriously as she did with her current lands.

She did step forward, not ignorant of the guards, but not so wary of them. Her arms fell from their crossed position and she held one hand out to Carmilla, palm up, as if to help her to rise, “Unless you have any qualms or questions for me, it seems we find ourselves as allies.” A certain tension still remained to her, still half-expecting something.

The ambitious were the most dangerous.

Carmilla might expect some ‘reward’ if she killed one of Dracula’s enemies, or brought one before him.

 

[Blushing]

‘What happened?’ Dracula insisted, perhaps growing tired of the dhampir’s ramblings. ‘Who killed Lucilla? Where were you?’

Evelynne’s heart sank. The trivial amount of comfort she’d found in reminiscing quite suddenly asphyxiated by an overwhelming wave of grief.

“Oh…” The dhampir apprehensively exclaimed, realizing he was growing rightfully disinterested. “I’m sorry.” Her soft voice wavered ever so slightly, threatening to break. “Of course. The slaying, then.”

Evelynne drew a deep, trembling breath as she straightened her posture. “It was nine years ago.” She’d begun, making a conscious effort to maintain her composure. “I don’t remember him well, but he bore a Belmont crest. Somehow, he’d gotten in just as dawn broke and managed to cut down every single guardsmen who dared to stand in his path.”

Merely recalling the event made her grow faint. “It was clear he wasn’t there for them. Her peons. No. He’d come for the vampiress herself– the monster of the people. Lucilla.” Evelynne stifled a sob, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

“I was drawn by the commotion in the foyer. Ashes and blood stained the walls and the carpet. I held my breath, fear gripping my throat as he’d finally laid eyes on me.

‘Well…’ The Belmont’s words echoed throughout her consciousness. ‘Lucilla. Look at you.’ Evelynne vividly remembered his arrogance – his gracelessness as he shamelessly glanced her over like a piece of meat.

‘ You’re what they’re afraid of? You don’t look too scary.’

He had taunted, emboldened by her meek appearance. His shit-eating grin made her blood boil. Even now. “Somehow, he’d mistook me for her. He mocked me – my fear. The first strike really didn’t even hurt it’d happened so fast.”

Evelynne would bring a clawed hand to her chest, as if grasping at an invisible wound. “I…I think he was surprised that I didn’t just die like the rest of them. He’d hesitated as I stood there in shock, blood beginning to heavily seep into my gown.”

‘The fuck are you?!’

“I’d heard my name, and the pain hit me. I doubled over, tears obscuring my vision as I struggled to stand. I thought I was surely going to perish – until I saw her.”

Tears begun to streak down her pallid cheeks. “Lucilla had struck, and Belmont shifted all attention to her. The rest…is a blur. I must have collapsed. When I’d come to, all I could sense was blood. My blood that had pooled beneath me. Staining my skin and clothing in a deep crimson. I remember glancing over through the railing of the staircase, vision fading as I watched her flesh burn away and fall to ash. He’d staked her. He’d won. I still wish I’d died on those stairs.”

Evelynne closed her scarred eyes, wiping away the tears as they’d come. “When I’d come to and had the strength to rise, everyone was gone. Even Lucilla’s allies seemed to vanish. The idea of a Belmont taking tips and bribes apparently too much for the vampires of the region. I’ve been alone since.”



///////////



Carmilla shrugged lightly. She was right, after all. War as a concept wasn’t foreign to the vampiress. Yet, this was the first time she’d be putting her pieces and plans to practice.

“I can’t say I have, Lady Antonia. Not at this scale.” She’d purred, playing into her banter. “Aren’t you attentive? Though, I suppose that’s only fair. What’s the point of squandering men and resources only to groom yet another tyrant for the throne.”

A cautious smile unfurled upon Carmilla’s ruby lips. “Then again, I won’t promise anything, love.”

It was borderline tasteless, but she hardly cared. This deal was practically struck. Only having had been cemented by her verbal confirmation. ‘Empress’ she’d called her. The slightest hint of contemplation lingering within her tone. Empress Carmilla. What a tantalizing concept. As for her plans, it would all come together in due time.

Antonia approached. The collective gaze of her guards fixed upon her as she did so. They made no move to intercept her, but appeared ready should the need arise. The vampiress extended her hand, an open invitation to join her.

Carmilla would give a soft, pleased hum and accept her hand. Rising with a surprising amount of grace. Now, they stood as allies. “Excellent.”

Despite having just accomplished a particularly necessary goal, Carmilla was undeniably disappointed in how effortless it’d been. Tension lingered between them. Though, neither would address it. It simply was to be expected. After all, their pact was in its infancy. Trust had to be built. Nurtured.

“Let us escort you to your inn, Lady Antonia.” A simple enough gesture. “You’re welcome to a mare, of course.” She’d spared her a smile as she’d begun to ascend the crypt’s staircase, holding her own pallid hand out as if to beckon her to follow. “I can have my men secure a path whenever you’re ready to depart.” Her voice echoed as she continued. Wouldn’t want to keep your entourage waiting, after all.“

 

[Lucyfer]

There was no need for apologies, but Dracula did not say as much. He had asked how the nearly albino woman came into contact with Lucilla, it was only appropriate she linger on the good parts. The slaying was, of course, now more of interest given what he knew of the relationship, and how Evelynne should have been there.

He was rather surprised it was so long ago, given that Hector knew of Lucilla.

Perhaps the townsfolk continued to believe she was alive, though, given how the mansion remained tidy.

‘Belmont?’ That was surprising. He was fairly certain that all the Belmonts had been killed nearly two decades ago by the Church, supposedly for dealing in the dark arts and things such as that. He certainly hadn’t been upset to hear that the family was at an end. They were a thorn in his side, even if he hadn’t seen one since Leon Belmont himself. He knew they were out there, killing vampires, and trying to find a way to his castle.

He did wonder if it was truly a Belmont, or some vampire hunter just using the name. Either way, they sounded capable enough, and it did make him wonder if there might be some truth to it.

The detail that Evelynne hadn’t died when struck through the heart did cause Dracula’s brows to arch. Even a human would be dead if their heart was pierced. He had presumed Alucard would suffer the same weakness. Perhaps the hunter’s aim had been off? It was the only conclusion that he could come to, though he didn’t say so aloud. It was hardly the point of the tale – the tale was that Lucilla had been slain by a Belmont, and had done so, it seemed, in her effort to defend Evelynne.

He nodded a bit at the end, “I see,” he didn’t mention his surprise at the Belmont, for it would hardly matter as well, compared to everything else. “He must have left you for dead, if he was so certain of his aim. He must have been off,” he did conclude that aloud, “though I will not call you fortunate for your life. It is not fortunate to live through the passing of a loved one,” Dracula understood that much, his tone losing some of its stability under the weight of that knowledge. He certainly wished for death…but that would come, once it was all over, most likely.

It would be a long, and a dragged out death…no more than he deserved for his failure to protect Lisa. “Why have you not left this area?”

Why would she wish to remain in a place where her loved one had been murdered, and she had nearly died herself? It seemed strange to him. Of course, it was part of what made his own castle hell, but it was large enough for him to avoid those areas that had been dear to Lisa, or their son. If all of this had been Lucilla’s, he found it hard to imagine that memories of her could ever be avoided in this place.

He also wondered how she was acquiring food – dhampirs needed more than blood, something he had learned fairly quick. It was possible she was stealing it, he doubted she was buying it from the townsfolk, and had a feeling she preferred not to be seen at all.

~***~

Antonia did not speak to Carmilla’s comment or easy endearments. ‘I would not trust your promises.’ Even now, there were many things she had yet to trust. They had a similar goal – to dethrone Dracula. As far as that was concerned, she could support Carmilla. Carmilla was asking nothing of her, after all.

It would be easy to do nothing if she found it unsatisfactory, if the information presented wasn’t useful to her. She was not being asked to give Carmilla any information on the size of her armies, or the locations. Any and all strategy would be kept to Antonia herself, based on the information given.

If she didn’t move, she would not have to explain herself beyond ‘it wasn’t good for her’.

None of that was mentioned – Carmilla had already made it clear she intended to ask for nothing more than an agreement that they wanted Dracula dead, and would make moves to see it done. At the end, more would be considered – and by then, Antonia would have a better idea of Carmilla and how she chose to work. Much as Carmilla would know more of her. Her pretty words wouldn’t save her then if her actions proved contrary during the course of her sabotaging career.

Just a slight grin touched Antonia’s lips as Carmilla rose to stand with her, and she followed after the other vampiress, moving even before her guards, not worried of having her back exposed. “I appreciate the gesture, Lady Carmilla,” though she nearly threw in the ‘Empress’ title again. She had seen the effect on Carmilla.

It was quite a grand title. It implied leadership over kings, after all. “It seems we have everything handled here, so I am ready to depart. It would not be to either of our benefit for my allies to determine we’ve spent too long together.” Even if it would be easy to explain to them – sometimes, these matters took a while.

This one would have, if Carmilla had been demanding anything. Yet, she wasn’t, and so Antonia took a mare that was offered, not bothering with thoughts of modesty as she sat as a man would, dress lifted on one side to allow it.

Side saddle never suited her.

The path to the inn seemed fairly clear, though Antonia did keep her eyes sharp for any indication of Church presence or movement. So far, she noted nothing, but she wouldn’t be lax in it.

The black-haired vampire was waiting outside the inn, arms folded over his chest. He moved as he saw the approach, pushing away from the wooden building and clearly sizing up Carmilla when she came into his sights, everything about his movement tense, as if expecting some last minute act against either himself or Antonia. “Well?” He lifted his voice as Antonia brought her mare forward, and then shifted down on it, dress coming back down to cover her legs easily enough.

“Carmilla intends to provide us with all we may need to act so far as information goes. It is our choice if we do anything,” she answered. “I find nothing disagreeable. Do you, Cyrus?”

He arched a brow at that, finding it hard to believe more than anything, before he shook his head. “Hardly.” Obviously they wouldn’t be doing ‘nothing’.

 

[Blushing]

‘He must’ve been off’ Dracula had commented, his brow arching in doubt. Evelynne gave a soft, thoughtful hum in response. Somewhat disconcerted by his sudden suspicion. Did he think she’d claimed to have been staked and live?

“Oh.” She’d exclaimed meekly in her realization. “No. Belmont never attempted to stake me. I…wouldn’t know why.” Evelynne sighed, growing visibly troubled as she forced herself to continue. “I suppose he’d just assumed that he’d dealt a lethal blow with his whip.” She shook the thought away, catching herself mid ramble. “…I’m sorry. I try not to dwell on it too much. It… depresses me.”

Evelynne had always been a fragile soul, and the death of Lucilla had ruined her. Dwelling on the past too long was always a dangerous affair. The threat of being dragged down and asphyxiated by her grief always looming.

Dracula continued, expressing something akin to empathy but not quite there. She could sense the regret lingering within his words. She hated to liken him to herself, but there was indeed, a parallel.

‘Why have you not left this area?’ Now this had caught her off guard.

“…Where else would I go?” Evelynne meekly murmured, slightly offended. “My place is here.” She was the only one left, after all. “How could I forsake their memory by leaving this place untended and vulnerable to rot and mortal scavengers? This is a shrine dedicated to them. To her. ” Evelynne’s voice would break ever so slightly.“…It’s all I have left.”

Evelynne took a moment to regain her composure, wiping away a few stray tears that had fallen. “Now you know. Whatever business you had with Lucilla died with her. I’m in no state to handle whatever affairs she left behind. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”


---------------------



Carmilla spared her newfound ally an acknowledging nod. A playful smile touching her rubied lips as she’d done so. “Oh, please think nothing of it.” She insisted, seemingly quite pleased. “It’s the least I can do for making you come all this way.”

Her guards, steadfast in their duty, tended to their matriarch. Assisting her onto her gilded steed and making the final preparations for their departure. They already had their route prearranged and relatively cleared. Walking amongst humans was always a relatively delicate affair, and with two influential vampiresses among them it wasn’t worth it to take risks.

With two men in the front and another two lingering behind, they would set off. As she’d arranged, the streets had been kept relatively empty. Only a few oblivious humans dawdling about in the streets. However, Carmilla’s attention wasn’t on them.

Carmilla had been stealing glances at her companion. Not much was said amongst them, and Antonia herself seemed rather preoccupied in her vigilance. The asphyxiating presence of the church here was a burden on both of them. It was unpredictable, and the devout were far more brazen than their faithless counterparts. She couldn’t blame her for being on edge.

Eventually, the entourage would approach the inn. The adjoining streets slightly livelier than those they’d passed. Some of those who lingered would stand in awe, unaware of what they were really gawking at.

One, however, had caught her attention. Not a human, oddly enough, but one of their kind. He stood tall, with a surprising amount of confidence. His gaze narrowed into an accusing glare as he’d shamelessly looked her over. Oh, if looks could kill. Carmilla arched a brow. Visibly amused by how genuinely threatened he appeared to be.

Antonia effortlessly slid off her mare, addressing the vampire before her. She sought his approval, and he’d only offered a meager, uncertain response. Clearly, this man wasn’t easily convinced.

Carmilla edged her gilded steed forward. Approaching in a slow, predictable manner. She dismounted, and her men followed suit.

“Lady Antonia.” The vampiress purred, her gaze tracing over the raven-haired vampire. “Now that we’ve gotten our business settled, why don’t we all sit down and get better acquainted over drinks? My treat, of course.”

 

[Lucyfer]

The death of Lisa was all that Dracula dwelled on. It was all that drove him. He could understand not wanting to dwell on it – plenty, no doubt, likely wished that he didn’t. But he had to live every day without her now, and it was humans who were responsible. Just as a human was responsible for Lucilla’s death.

Just so, Evelynne’s answer did not surprise him.

This was all she had left of her dear Lucilla. She had seemingly wandered to Lucilla, injured, and come into that world. Lucilla’s friends had abandoned them both, and she had nowhere else to go, but here. To rot. Perhaps she did not see it as such, but Dracula did. He recognized one making a grave of their living quarters.

She kept it beautiful, but that was all it was – a place for her to eventually die.

He could have left it at that.

He could have left her there.

“Perhaps, it did not,” his own musing words even caught him a bit off guard, as he leaned forward, arms crossing over his knees as he seemed to assess Evelynne. There were parallels between them, even if Evelynne was not seeking revenge, perhaps it was only because she had not thought of it. She had not seemed to think of much beyond existing in the old comforts. “You have lost your Lucilla to humans. I have lost my Lisa to humans. I came here to find someone who would understand the monstrosity that is humanity, and help me in ridding the world of it.” He shook his head slightly, “I do not know if Lucilla would have been that person, but you have seen what humanity is capable of.”

He did not know if Lucilla was ‘deserving’, certainly Evelynne wouldn’t think so, and that was enough. Lucilla had died an unfair death, at the hands of a Belmont – a human, who had likely been hired by others, or tipped off by them.

“You could leave here with me,” he offered, making sure to try and hold that gaze of hers, in spite of her clear sight complications, “I am leaving with a young man named Hector who also understands that humanity is a blight,” perhaps one that just needed controlled rather than eliminated, but…well, that was a bridge he’d cross later. “A human who agrees….” It was almost comical, if Dracula had any humor left.

Sometimes…he felt it. When he considered Isaac and Hector, and what good souls they were.

~***~

Slow and predictable was quite good for Cyrus’s nerves, and his gaze followed Carmilla’s movements and those of her men. No matter how relaxed Antonia seemed, he wouldn’t quite let up his guard until he was certain of her – and he wouldn’t be certain of her until Antonia could speak plainly, which would hardly be in the presence of Carmilla.

He’d seen her play this game often enough; they had both survived the early years of the Church, after all. He scoffed a bit at the idea of drinks, “I don’t see any humans with you to treat with,” though he supposed she could have been referring to something more mundane, or they could be elsewhere.

He knew some vampires still kept to human habits; Godbrand still drank ale, strange as it was.

Antonia touched his arm and his gaze turned from Carmilla to her, “Go see to Niamh and Cassion,” she instructed, rather than let his question of Carmilla’s offer remain. It was one to accept, and if Carmilla wished to get to know her and her allies, then she would know the highest at her side, presently – some remained back to watch her territory, naturally, her direct second staying there, but she had not brought mere grunts with her.

Cyrus gave a nod, only glanced to Carmilla, “Are we to be staying at this inn, or did you have somewhere else in mind?” So he would know if he was telling them to prepare to leave, or to just come out into the tavern area of the inn. That was likely a more prudent question, anyways.

It certainly didn’t stir Antonia to correct or redirect him, this time.

 

[Blushing]

“I have and I do…but –”

‘You could leave here with me.’ Dracula proposed. Seemingly concerningly serious in his offer. Leave? But how could she? She’d be abandoning everything she loved. Her comfort, her safety, her memories. “I…” She’d trailed off, scared by her sudden sense of uncertainty.

Deep down, Evelynne knew her time was limited here. A part of her had accepted that, but the thought of slowly perishing here alone frightened her. She’d grown too accustomed to the endless cleaning and crying. Finding comfort in lovingly caring for her precious things. It was nothing but a gilded, glorified tomb. A place for her to inevitably die once she grew too weak to continue – and she knew it.

He’d preyed on her hatred for humans. To his merit, he did despise them. Though, Evelynne couldn’t help but feel that he just pitied her. A formality that he’d extended to someone who would hopefully share in his views. After all, he’d invited a human. So why not a dhampir?

“I…” Evelynne’s gaze wandered restlessly. The thought of leaving visibly troubling her. “But what would become of the castle?” It sounded as if she were more so asking herself rather than him. “Would something like me even have a place with you and…Hector?”

Evelynne hated herself for being tempted. A large and intimidating vampire, Dracula would no doubt be able to keep her safe. More importantly, she wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Even with so little on the table, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the offer.

“I can’t…” Evelynne finally spoke again, her tone apprehensive. “I can’t stay here anymore. This place is eating away at me. Driving me mad.” It felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders from just saying it aloud. A realization she’d made long ago but had refused to accept until now. “I’ll go with you.”

Evelynne hesitantly stood, grasping her hands together worriedly before her as she’d done so. “I just…” She’d trailed off once more, her tone quite suddenly strained. “We need to leave now.” The dhampir insisted. “I can’t be given the luxury to think about it too much. This is the only second chance I’ll ever have…”

----

Carmilla was nothing short but enthralled by how intimidated this vampire was by her presence. She couldn’t blame him for his skepticism. After all, they’d only just met. She’d be a fool to expect otherwise. He held his tongue, for a time. Choosing to speak only after she’d suggested they continue the evening.

Carmilla’s gaze shot to Cyrus. An unidentifiable emotion lingering behind her eyes. Antonia was infinitely more tolerant than she was. Insubordination in her underlings simply wasn’t to be tolerated; and not one of them dared to question or defy her in the presence of a potential ally. Lest they wished to fall out of service. Permanently.

The vampiress arched a brow, a sly smile spreading across her lips. She didn’t have a chance to respond to his rather cheeky quip. His master quickly changing the direction of the conversation, requesting that he go and retrieve some other members of her party. How it warmed her heart to see him whipped back into place.

“Perhaps here.” Carmilla hummed upon stealing a glance inside. “The sun rises fairly soon. I doubt we'd have much time to gather everyone and wander around the city. I wouldn’t want to get trapped here, after all.”

Carmilla glanced to the four men behind her, three of which stepping forward at her vocal cue. The other lingered behind. Rounding up their steeds and leading them away to be tended to elsewhere.

“Of course, only if you’re comfortable with such a thing. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to do so.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Dracula was silent through Evelynne’s process, as she moved through the indecision that seemed more like a decision she didn’t want to acknowledge. As if it would be some insult to Lucilla’s memory. He did not speak to who would take care of her home. They both knew the answer to that. Soon enough, it would fall into disrepair. If humans remained, they would rob it. Destroy it.

But they wouldn’t remain.

Not for long.

“Someone like you would have a place,” he agreed, “for someone like you sees humans differently than the rest of my host.” Who saw them only as food, and would certainly oppose the idea of their genocide. They could live on animals, of course. It wasn’t the tastiest way to go, but then, Dracula wasn’t planning to even eat animals.

He wasn’t planning to do much in the way of preserving his own life, once humanity was gone. Starving was acceptable. The pain would never match what he felt for his loss.

He was surprised, however, as she determined she would leave, so suddenly, with no desire to find some things – clothes, valuables, sentimental objects, whatsoever.

“Very well.”

He would not question it, either. Such things as clothes would not be difficult to come by, and if she needed to distance herself from the memory of Lucilla, then taking items of any value to her would only hinder that. He rose immediately, and offered his hand for her to rise, as well, “We shall gather Hector, and leave immediately.”

He would not give her those precious seconds to reconsider, as she desired. He would bend that request, and get them out of there. His business had been done after he spoke with Hector, anyway. The man would have prepared his things to leave now.

~***~

Carmilla’s expressions were not so hidden, and Antonia had made note of the flash of her gaze, that shift that couldn’t be discerned immediately, when Cyrus had spoken out of turn. His new question earned a decent enough answer – here, then. Antonia was pleased to have only asked one of the humans forward then.

She wouldn’t be sharing any of them, of course, but she didn’t want them all at such obvious risk. Better to keep the hunter present instead of the others who were less equipped for such a thing.

Cyrus inclined his head before turning off with that answer, not asking if that meant Carmilla intended to stay with them through the morning or not. He would try to think positively and assume they would run off before then.

“Yes, I am comfortable with such a thing. This is hardly my establishment, or home,” it was not offensive to Antonia for Carmilla to want to stay there. It was not an imposition – she had already shown Carmilla where she and the others were staying by allowing herself to be led back here with them, as if they didn’t already know.

“Shall we, then?” Her smile came easily, as she gestured forward, and would take a step ahead, asking, “I would also like the names of those with you, if we are to be getting to know one another. I can introduce them,” she supposed Carmilla could do much the same if she preferred, but so far her guards had seemed little more than glorified servants. They worked in the background, adding no input whatsoever, only responding.

It was certainly strange to Antonia, who was hardly interested in an army of faceless individuals who conformed to her will unquestionably. Such a thing only encouraged stagnation.

 

[Blushing]

Evelynne hesitated. Reaching for his hand but slightly pulling away at the last second. Was she really doing this? Forsaking her home – her beloved Lucilla for a stranger she’d just met. Just thinking about what fate would befall this place made her stomach drop. Eventually, the parasites would come. Ravaging her home like depraved parasites until nothing was left. They deserved what was coming to them.

"I…” She stood on her own, completely pulling her hand away. “…Okay.”

Hopelessly defeated, it was all she could bring herself to say. She was, admittedly, comforted by the promise of a place among them. Though, it hardly eased the heartache.

Dracula respected her wishes. Gently ushering her out without another word. Evelynne couldn’t even bring herself to look at what she was leaving behind. Keeping her gaze firmly fixed upon the ground. She felt traitorous. Less than scum. Lucilla would’ve been rolling in her grave…if she had one.

As they approached the door together, Evelynne would hesitate. This was real. It was happening, and if she stepped beyond the threshold of those doors there was no going back.

Slowly, almost apprehensively, she’d step forward. Leaving the castle with nothing but the clothes she wore. She didn’t even bother to lock the door. It, and everything inside was as good as dead to her now.

----

“Excellent.” Carmilla purred. To ask was more of a formality than anything. One offered just in case she felt the need to keep the more intimate aspects of her stay here private.

Carmilla merely nodded upon her invitation. Together, they entered the inn. The three guards funneling in behind her. Against the lively, casual atmosphere of the inn’s tavern, her men truly stood out. Their polished silver armor and pallid, stoic expressions drawing more than a few glares from those inside.

‘I would also like the names of those with you, if we are to be getting to know one another. I can introduce them.’

Fair enough, Carmilla supposed. Her gaze flicking back to those dutifully following her. Admittedly, she didn’t personally know many of her men. They were there to serve a purpose, and most of them understood and were content with that. However, her more intimate guardsmen were another story. Steadfast and loyal, these vampires were the best Styria had to offer.

“Of course.” Carmilla obliged with a warm smile. “This is Lucien.” She’d gestured to the vampire lingering to the left of the group, who’d nodded upon being addressed. “Marcellus.” The man in the middle would mimic the gesture.

“…And Gallio.” As the others, the man nodded. “Unfortunately, Sylven is absent. He’ll be joining us as soon as he gets the horses settled.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Dracula withdrew his hand when it was not taken, not forcing the matter. So long as Evelynne was willing to move, then he would not take her hand. And she did move. They were able to reach the door without her pausing. It was only when he stepped over the threshold that she seemed to hesitate, as he waited outside, holding the door open for her to follow him out.

Nothing needed to be said.

Evelynne did, eventually, cross over the threshold. Once she did, he shut the door behind her. It may not be locked, but it was at least shut up once more.

He continued immediately, guiding the way down the cobblestone path – until the path broke off, and they were on nothing but a well-worn path made over the years of travel. “I should warn you. Hector is a what is called a forgemaster. Loosely, it means he can bring the dead back to life.” Some had other skills. Isaac was able to mutate the dead, but he had never seen Hector do that. “It frightens some…I mention it only because I do not want you to be too terrified of his dog, Cezar. He’s harmless.”

Just a bit frightening for most who saw him because one leg was all bone and his face was a bit of a mess, but Dracula hardly minded it. Still, he knew it was the cause of much strife for Hector – people who didn’t like his pets, or him, and he thought a fair warning for Evelynne would be beneficial, even if her own eyes might deceive her a bit.

He still didn’t know how well she could see, and wasn’t yet planning to ask since she’d not seemed to need any help with walking or moving about in unfamiliar territory.

“From there it is not far to my castle, it is just outside of Hector’s home. We will leave then to find my friend, Isaac,” who he had not yet spoken with, but he knew that Isaac would be with him, all the way.

Then it would be back to Wallachia…and beginning this process, where it all began. In Targoviste.

~***~

The inn had rooms, but the tavern was lively at this hour with those who weren’t necessarily staying in one of those rooms. Antonia’s eyes skimmed the patrons. She hadn’t entered before, though she presumed the others had and determined it wasn’t too bad. They would, no doubt, do their best to mask what they were. She and Carmilla were lucky enough to have hair that covered some of the unusual aspects, though Antonia did find herself wondering if Carmilla suffered with the similar pointed ears.

Not all of those turned at the hands of others took that change. Much as Carmilla’s eyes remained a human shade.

Her fellows were a bit more noticeable, and a certain quiet did move over the patrons with their entry. Still, Antonia ignored that as she listened to the names and made note of each one individually, lips slightly twitching upward at ‘Marcellus’.

Another name more Roman than anything, and she idly wondered if he might be so old to share in that past, much as she’d wondered of Carmilla.

“Thank you, and it is good to meet you three,” she offered, though she knew too well she wasn’t actually meeting them. They were on a leash of sorts, invisible but obvious.

Unlike her group, and the three that returned from their rooms soon spotted them. Cyrus pointed them out from the steps, and Cassion immediately arched a brow, the blonde human not seeming too impressed, though Niamh moved forward almost immediately, seeming to float with her natural, airy grace, as she moved to where they were first.

She was young, compared to the others, even if they all looked it. Her youth still left her somewhat foolish, and her open interest was obvious in the way those inhumanly silver eyes seemed to glisten with curiosity as she looked up to the new woman in the group. “So this is Carmilla?” The question wasn’t spoken in Latin, nor even Romanian, but Gaelic. It flowed off her lips as if it were natural, which, for her, it was.

Antonia didn’t address what she said, but placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and then gestured out, “This is Lady Carmilla of Styria,” she looked up as Cassion and Cyrus joined, Cassion not at all looking impressed. The blond hunter rarely was, and he’d already spoken some of the rumors he’d heard of Carmilla that made him highly unlikely to ever enjoy the thought of working with her.

His crucifix was in plain sight, along with another symbol, that of Nemesis – a winged eye – that marked him as one of Antonia’s own hunters. What wasn’t so obvious, but present, were the two stakes at either hip, masked only by his cloak – and done more for the sake of the other humans in the tavern. He didn’t need to start a scene with that when they’d already be suspicious over what had entered the tavern.

The crucifix kept Cyrus at some slight distance when he normally didn’t mind Cassion at all. “With her companions, Lucien, Marcellus, and Gallio. Carmilla, this is Niamh and Cassion Hawthorn. You’re already acquainted with Cyrus, of course. Her companion, Sylven, will join shortly. He’s tending the horses.”

“Sorry,” Niamh giggled a bit, “I tend to forget what language we’re keeping to. I meant no offense, Lady Carmilla!” She returned to speaking in the same tongue as Antonia, though it was heavily accented.

Cassion took a step back, and gestured, “I’ve already found a good place for us,” his voice held an accent as well, different from that of Niamh. He was a native of the territory that Antonia resided in; Romanian wasn’t his best language, but he’d learned it. It was the tongue Dracula preferred, so it was necessary in dealing with vampires.

The place he’d found was a decent table along the wall. He thought it would fit many, and it would give him a good view of the room at large.

 

[Blushing]

Evelynne carefully hurried along, wary to mind the distance between them. She didn’t allow herself stray too close. Lingering slightly behind his looming visage. Mostly, she’d kept her gaze firmly fixed on the ground ahead. Only occasionally letting it flit over Dracula, who appeared rather apathetic to her presence.

It was surreal. Evelynne had just lost everything, and yet, she merely felt empty. Completely numb to the ruins of her once enchanted life crumbling around her.

‘…I should warn you.’

The elder vampire’s voice startled Evelynne’s wandering mind back to reality. Earning a meek gasp from her as she’d nearly stumbled over her own feet. He seemingly hadn’t noticed. Or perhaps, simply didn’t care and continued unperturbed.

“Forgemaster?”

The word tumbled gracelessly off her tongue. It was such an odd title for someone harboring the ability of apparent resurrection. Though, that wasn’t what had piqued her curiosity. Through his halfhearted warning, he’d mentioned…a dog?

Cezar, it was apparently called. A doubtful expression lingered upon her features. If Hector was human, as Dracula had claimed, it was far more likely that he would be frightened of her. A mauled, malnourished dhampir.

“Oh…Okay.”

Evelynne eventually responded, somewhat aloof. Seemingly uninterested in conversation. Now, they strayed into new territory. He’d continued, explaining the route they’d take and what would happen once they’d claimed the “forgemaster”. She listened, but most of her attention was elsewhere.

The path they’d taken was in a very poor way. That, combined with the moonless sky, made it very difficult for her to find her way. She said nothing, however. Uncertain how this creature would react at the prospect of her being that incapable. So she simply followed. Stumbling here and there but otherwise staying upright. For now.

----

In unison, Carmilla’s men would give a nod of acknowledgement. The vampiress herself would glance back at them, a soft hum escaping her as she’d done so. Meticulous, obedient and silent. How men should be.

She’d seen how Antonia had glanced them over. It was a shame she didn’t keep her own troupe in such refined order. Vampires were one thing, but humans? Finicky, defiant, and hopelessly mortal. It was never worth keeping them around. However, Antonia had seemingly still managed to find an inkling of potential within them.

The group was obvious among the ambiance of the tavern. Both by the way they looked and how their collective gaze traced over them. They approached, each of them seemingly studying her as they’d done so.

Almost immediately, one of the humans had brought herself to speak. It was a language that she wasn’t familiar with, but she’d most definitely caught her name. Antonia quickly intervened, introducing her to a mass of mixed reactions.

The elder vampiress continued, going through each name of those present and, of course, Sylven. Who’d come in just as his name was mentioned. Carmilla’s men shuffled, making room for their fourth. No words were shared among them, and their attention was now firmly upon their master.

“Oh, think nothing of it.” Carmilla insisted. “It is nice to finally meet the most intimate members of Lady Antonia’s court.”

Formalities were always necessary boredom. However, Carmilla had found herself pleasantly intrigued by the company she kept. A vampire hunter, whose eyes glimmered with doubt. Clearly unimpressed by the display before him. He bore her sigil and a crucifix. It’s influenc seemingly warding off the cheeky vampire she’d met earlier in the evening. How inviting.

And, of course, the bubbly Niamh. Who was the only one among them to seem pleased with the current happenings.

‘I’ve already found a good place for us’

The blonde slayer stated in a somewhat accented voice. It was familiar, but Carmilla couldn’t quite place the origin. Not that she really cared.

“Well, then – shall we?” Carmilla accepted with a sly grin, beginning to saunter her way over. Guards in tow.

 

[Lucyfer]

Dracula had not noticed the way that Evelynne started at his first words, besides her gasp. Yet, as they continued on, he did notice that she seemed to be keeping up rather poorly, and his own gait began to slow to accommodate, until he was nearly walking at her own side. He could hear each stone as it was kicked or stumbled over, each tick as it was moved from its place.

Finally, he slowed to a stop and moved a hand to fall on her shoulder. She had not seemed so clumsy within the keep, but that was likely because she knew Lucilla’s home – or at least, the paths she tread – quite well. She had been there quite a while, and took loving care of the residence. This path, if one could even call it that, likely would have bothered many on such a dark night. Given her eyesight, even if not expressed between them that there was an issue, it was no doubt problematic for her.

“Here,” he let her shoulder go once they had paused, “take my hand,” he offered, extending it out, “I do not wish you to come to harm by falling on the path, and it is not a good one.”

Though, as he said it, he could hear the yipping of Hector’s dog, and soon heard the scurrying of more scattered stones as the creature apparently decided to rush towards them now that it had caught their scent. No doubt it would soon be alongside them, and Hector waiting outside to see what Cezar had noticed.

If he hadn’t already guessed.

“I will help to show you around my castle when we arrive, as well,” she would need to get familiar with it, he supposed, to learn the pathways that were good. “Though I suspect the ground will be more forgiving within those walls….” There may have been just a touch of humor, not quite at her expense, though it could easily be misconstrued that way.

~***~

Carmilla took Cassion’s gaze and gesture, and led the way. Niamh was quick to join her side, the young vampiress almost enthralled with the new woman, and her silvery guards. Cyrus walked ahead of Cassion and Antonia as well, Cassion laying a hand on Antonia’s arm as the others walked.

“You know what they say of her?” He asked, voice low – so low it would even be difficult for a vampire to catch. Antonia had to strain a bit over the din.

“Some. I suspect you’ll tell me more, but later. Let us not sully this with rumor. You know what they’ve said of me,” her own wry smirk said enough, and he matched it, before stepping ahead as everyone positioned themselves. He took to be further from Carmilla, a matter of respect given what he was wearing, while Niamh took a seat as near as she could immediately.

Antonia would also position herself close, as Cassion glanced back and gestured to one of the workers of the inn to come over as they settled themselves.

“Where are you from? How old are you?” Niamh’s questions were always those, first, the vampiress ever-curious about the world around her since she was able to get across the ocean – quite the feat for a vampire, in some respects, but her boat hadn’t sunk and she hadn’t fallen off. “I am from Dan—Ireland, I guess. I did not call it that, though.”

Antonia offered, “She’s young,” as if it might offset any offense, “abandoned by her sire and still learning much.” And Antonia was fairly indulgent with her for it, considering curiosity a boon rather than a bane. Likely why her form was a cat, though others claimed it was based on the moon she was turned on. She wasn’t sure she followed all the same rules as those turned by another vampire.

 

[Blushing]

Evelynne hadn’t noticed him reaching for her. When his hand did find her shoulder, she’d flinch. Pulling away from his broad, clawed hand with a flustered gasp. He let go, instead offering for her to take it instead.

He seemed genuine enough in his approach. Yet, she still found herself hesitating. “I don’t think…” She’d meekly tried to protest. Stepping slightly away from the vampire. Evelynne didn’t mean to insult his gesture, rather, she was at a loss of what to do.

Dracula was no fool. He’d noticed how she’d fumbled about like a fawn learning to walk. He was being kind, and quite suddenly she found herself feeling foolish. “Thank you.” Evelynne relented. Gently taking his extended hand in an effort to preserve what sliver of dignity she had left.

Though, she didn’t seem to dwell on it long. The sound of approaching yipping drawing her attention to the shadows ahead. Evelynne found herself lightly squeezing his hand, unsure of how to feel about the unseen creature approaching.

Dracula didn’t seem concerned. Which somewhat steeled her nerves. He’d continued casually speaking, offering to help her become acquainted with his castle and its layout. Assuring her that its grounds were far more forgiving. She could only muster a weak hum in response. Figuring that if anything, she deserved that little quip.

Soon enough, the pug had found them. It’s tiny shadow dancing upon the muddy walkway as it waddled towards them with a surprising amount of energy. “Oh my.” Evelynne gasped as the pug toddled up to her legs. Almost instantly forgetting her shame. It gazed up at them, wagging its tail excitedly at the possibility of making new friends.

It was so small. So silly. And yet, Evelynne couldn’t help but feel a twinge of uneasiness. Dracula’s warning hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, after all.

“Hello, little one.” Evelynne greeted somewhat hesitantly. "Aren't you just the cutest wee thing?"

The creature appeared as if it could simply keel over from its excitement. Charmed by its mannerisms, Evelynne would slowly lean closer for a better look.

Almost instantly, the dhampir would recoil in sheer fright. She didn’t panic, but was quite visibly disturbed.

“It…it’s dead.” Evelynne whispered, as if she were scared of offending it. “I…think?”

When Dracula had mentioned Hector had brought things back from the dead, she’d assumed it would at least be…alive. Not permanently stuck in a decrepit state of what appeared to be a walking death.

----

In all her life, Carmilla had never seen one so enthralled by her presence. Save for maybe that red-headed, so-called viking pig. Admittedly, coming from a vampire, it was quite endearing. However, the human among them didn’t seem nearly as enamored; and had no qualms with openly expressing it.

Like a little bird, he whispered to his master. Quite mindful of both Carmilla and his voice. Even she, with her acute senses, could barely understand what had been said. Carmilla’s gaze narrowed. Many an enemy had been made with little whispers. Little nothings that gradually sowed seeds of doubt or resentment within. It’s a game this vampiress is quite familiar with.

Thankfully, for now, it appeared Antonia was having none of it. Carmilla had seen that wry smile. It put her tensing nerves at ease. For now.

The group methodically took their seats. With Carmilla intentionally keeping her men close as a buffer between them. Niamh, however, disregarded them completely. Instantly taking her place as close as the guard would physically allow.

Carmilla couldn’t help but genuinely grin. Not only from the young vampire’s incessant nature but her sudden, enthused questions in that familiarly bubbly inflection.

Antonia quickly chimed in, however. Offering lowkey apologies for her admittedly peculiar behavior. “Well, being inquisitive is healthy.” Carmilla hummed. We’ve all been there, after all.” The vampiress didn’t appear offended at all, seemingly willing to indulge the young one’s curiosity.

“I am originally from Styria.” Carmilla begun rather unceremoniously. “Born in a little out of the way village a few centuries or so ago.” Admittedly, Carmilla had long since forgotten exactly how long she’d been alive. All of those horrendous years spent with her previous master sort of…blended together. Even now, many years later, she wasn’t sure how long she’d spent in that hell.

“My story is a tedious one.” Carmilla lied through her teeth. “Not nearly as interesting as the tale of how all of you had come to meet Antonia, I’m sure.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Dracula’s cold hand enfolded over Evelynne’s own, warmer, hand, to help her along. There was not much further to Hector’s home, but the path to his own castle would still take some time, and the path did not get much better. He could not help but reflect that the last hand he’d likely taken was Lisa’s own, or perhaps Alucard’s – warm hands. Not his own kind, the chill of them was present even beyond their flesh, a chill Dracula felt to his own core more than he ever had before.

He was dead, as dead as the dog that came up to them, even if the dog seemed so full of life, wagging its tail and looking as cheerful as any pug ought to. “Cezar…,” he spoke the name with some amused chastisement for the eager energy of the pup, releasing Evelynne’s hand as she seemed to want to get closer to it.

That closeness came at a cost, as she realized then what it was.

Dracula placed a gentle hand on her back to steady her as she recoiled. “Yes, he is,” Dracula agreed, “but no less energetic or as playful as any other pug,” no less deserving of love, he knew. This creature had done no harm to anyone. Simply for existing, though, others thought it deserved to die, or considered it an abomination. He supposed it was how he and Hector had developed their kinship.

He could see Dracula for his individuality, and Dracula felt no hostility or revulsion from Hector at all. Hector was, of course, a bit too simple…but innocent. Innocent in a way Isaac wasn’t.

He patted his leg with the hand that wasn’t on Evelynne’s back, “Cezar, here,” he spoke softly, but the pug reacted as if he’d been called by a child’s laugh, eagerly shifting from his confusion at Evelynne’s revulsion to go set his front paws on Dracula’s leg and stretch his head up to nuzzle against the long fingers. Dracula scratched the pup’s moving head as best he could from the position he found himself in, ever-careful with the areas of exposed flesh and muscle.

Pounding footsteps caught up with them, and cast in the light of the stars was soon Hector himself, the young man clad in an off-white tunic and dark slacks, not yet adorned as he would be when he held rank in Dracula’s court. He looked almost too simple, if it weren’t for his silvery hair and darker skin. “Oh. Dracula. Hello,” he greeted, before his eyes cast to the woman at his side. “Is this—”

“This is Evelynne,” Dracula interrupted, “It seems the vampiress you heard of was long since gone.”

“Ah…my apologies, I never heard of any…well, nevermind,” he put on a smile, “Evelynne. I’m Hector,” his manners were not rude, but it was clear he was not that used to being around others, but his gentle expression still held wariness. “Is she coming with us?”

“She is,” Dracula answered with a nod, “Are you prepared?”

“My bag is back at my home, but, yes, I suppose I am.” There was nothing really keeping him in Rhodes, after all. “Cezar,” he called to the pug, “Come here, don’t bother them.”

Cezar was quick to turn back to Hector and waddle back alongside him, “If you’ll just come with me, I can grab my things, and we can be off.”

Dracula gave a deep inclination of his head, “Of course,” he had no qualms with that plan at all, given he was planning to go by Hector’s home to pick him up.

~***~

Antonia was grateful that Carmilla was not so inclined to take offense. There were many who would be irked by the too-easy way that Niamh inquired, or even her cheer in doing so. Antonia had seen it before, and imagined she would again – but not that day.

Carmilla wasn’t terribly old herself. Not by Antonia’s standards, anyways. Cyrus and she both were the elders in the room, and Niamh didn’t seem terribly far behind her, if she was only a couple centuries. Of course, she gave no exacts, and seemed to dismiss it all. Niamh was quick to jump in to reassure, “I am sure your stories are just so exciting! I heard of Styria only when I heard of you and what we were doing – I have heard the major tongue there is something, uhm,” she looked to Cassion.

“Germanic. Deutsch.” He clarified for her, and she nodded eagerly at that, looking back to Carmilla, “He calls it harsh, but I would want – I do want to hear it. I enjoy language!”

“Because yours is pretty,” Cassion said. Not that he found fault in his own language – it was pretty. He’d had to learn a few others to work with Antonia, though he had learned Romanian before meeting her. Just as it was a necessity for vampires, so, too, was it a necessity for their hunters. He couldn’t speak Niamh’s tongue, though.

He could speak the native ones of Cyrus and Antonia, at least, though she would be quick to criticize if he slipped into the ecclesiastical pronunciations of Latin.

“Many are,” Niamh countered, but then addressed Carmilla’s own curiosity, “but Lady Antonia found me. She brought me into her home. She was one of the first I met on this land who knew my tongue, and she helped me.”

Antonia did not add to it; she had heard of Niamh’s wanderings from Cassion a few years back, and went to collect her before too much trouble was caused by the confused vampiress who had no one to understand her or no direction. “I always wanted to see more! And so I did. One day I’ll have to see your Styria, and further. I hear there is a place called Egypt where another interesting vampire lives, though it is a sunny land. I want to know why!”

“One day,” Antonia chuckled, shaking her head a bit. The man in Egypt was insane, to say the least, but not in the manner that Dracula was. He was…interesting. Not so hostile. He quite believed whatever demon gave him his power, and Antonia knew he was far older than she was. He would not be supporting Dracula, nor would he be staging any preparations. He never really cared about much outside of his bubble.

Niamh beamed at that hope, as Cyrus interjected, “I won’t be coming along with that one – I never liked Egypt,” rather like Antonia, he’d been there, and he’d met the idiot who stayed there. He had zero interest in crossing paths again with the supposed Pharaoh. “But Antonia and I met…what is it, over a millennia ago now?”

“It seems so,” she nodded.

“Back when the Church was building its foundation, and starting their war with our kind. We both pulled out of the Mediterranean to get a better footing.” And they had. They had started their own reign further north of Rome, and they kept plenty of allies and informants all around. They knew war against the powerful and numerous, and they had won before. Dracula worried him, but not so much. He was just another vampire, a self-declared king they had made a show of fealty to, but who never exerted that authority or bothered them.

“How are you two so old?” Niamh whined, the awe touching her voice along with the jealousy. She knew it, but it still didn’t cease to astound her.

Cyrus shrugged. “Luck?” He didn’t have a good answer for it. Luck, strategy, power? Any number of things could be it, but he’d call it luck before anything else. He’d seen plenty of intelligent and powerful vampires cut down.

Cassion took note of the approach of the waiter, and aware it was his turn to share, decided to have a bit of fun with it, “Our story isn’t that exciting – I tried to adopt her,” he gave a one-shouldered shrug and enjoyed the way Cyrus snorted in surprise, clearly having not heard the story that way, as a keel of giggles left Niamh.

“What?” Niamh must have misheard, or misunderstood, even as Antonia gave a begrudging sigh as any answer would be cut off by the arrival of the waiter who looked the strange group over.

“Hi, uh – what can I get you all tonight?” He could clearly sense something amiss despite the comforting smile that Cassion was presenting to him.

 

[Blushing]

Evelynne was quite disheartened by Cezar’s apparent confusion. Inside, he was no different than any other innocent little pug. The tiny creature happily obliged Dracula’s offer for affection, pattering over and climbing onto his leg as happy as he could be.

A faint smile would spread across her lips. The pug seemed carefree, thoroughly enjoying the attention he was receiving. Even so, Evelynne couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. After she was mauled, many of Lucilla’s court had gazed upon her with that very same expression.

They were never shy with their disdain; and while Evelynne would never say it aloud, their actions had scarred her for life. This small, happy little creature couldn’t have understood why she’d shied away. It didn’t matter. He still deserved the love he so willingly sought – or at the very least to be accepted. With the warning she’d received, she should have known better.

Evelynne, as carefully as she could, would gently scratch behind Cezar’s unscathed ear. A silent apology to the excitable creature. Given his condition, he was surprisingly soft and receptive to the pets. Choosing to lean into her hand as if to demand more attention.

The dhampir was so focused on the suddenly affectionate pug, that she’d hardly noticed the human that had emerged from the shadows.

‘Oh, Dracula…’

Evelynne recoiled from the sudden voice. Her gaze quite suddenly finding that of the supposed forgemaster. He paid her little mind, instead greeting Dracula as one would an old friend.

Like Dracula, this man looked upon her as if some sort of expectation was shattered. Before Hector could inquire, however, Dracula took it upon himself to introduce her. The forgemaster fumbled on an apology, clearly at a loss of how to properly continue.

Evelynne spared him a nod after he’d formally introduced himself. He didn’t really appear all that adjusted, yet Evelynne was hardly any better. She didn’t have anything to say so she remained silent. Letting them converse among themselves while patiently awaiting their decision. When things finally seemed settled, they would embark towards the way the forgemaster had come.

Cezar appeared more than happy to have his new friends follow him home. Struggling to both keep pace with his master and constantly glance back towards them as they followed. Soon enough, the path would come to a relatively secluded cottage. The light from candles flickered on the walls within, and thick black smoke billowed from the chimney. Perhaps they’d arrived earlier than expected?

------

Carmilla could only smile when Niamh took it upon herself to reassure her. As if, somehow, she’d be flustered by the idea of being unimpressive. She knew she wasn’t as ancient or established as Antonia. Even so, the vampiress appreciated the gesture. However trivial it may be.

Soon enough, however, the conversation spiraled into entirely new territory. With Niamh assuring Carmilla that she’d love to hear her speak in her native tongue. Which Cassion had so generously chimed in when prompted. The young vampiress seemed genuinely enthralled by the possibility. Insisting that she truly enjoyed the idea of an intricate language.

Cassion seemed to share her fascination. The two beginning to converse among themselves. He was right, though. Carmilla was familiar with Niamh’s native tongue. While she couldn’t speak it, she could agree that it was pleasant to listen to.

It was only then, after she’d seemingly suddenly remembered her question, that Niamh would indulge her curiosity. She spoke highly of her master. Seemingly very thankful for the opportunity she’d been given.

The young vampiress continued, insistent that she was keen on expanding her horizons. Even playing with the idea of visiting Styria, which earned a chuckle from Carmilla. After the war, she be sure would make arrangements for them. All of them. After all, despite her eccentric behavior, Niamh was beginning to grow on her.

Egypt soon became the new topic. The mere talk of it thrilled the young one, but Carmilla appeared far less enthralled. Like Cyrus, she’d never willingly venture out into Egypt. She’d heard the rumors. The idea of meeting a mad, old pharaoh simply didn’t make the trip seem any more alluring.

Carmilla was surprised Cyrus had chimed in at all. She’d taken him for a much younger vampire, and was genuinely astonished to discover otherwise. She’d never say it around, but Carmilla was impressed. Niamh would give a soft, playful whine in response.

Which, is exactly what prompted Cassion to finally speak. Nearly everyone stifled a laugh, including Carmilla. Who’d arched a curious eyebrow at the human’s choice of words. He didn’t get the chance to explain himself, though. Everyone’s attention shifting to the waiter as he’d awkwardly shuffled over to them.

Carmilla would give a soft, thoughtful hum when they were prompted for their order. She wasn’t particularly keen on indulging herself tonight. However, having specifically made the offer on drinks, it would have looked foolish for her to refuse now.

After a second or two of pondering, Carmilla would be the first to speak. “I’ll take a glass of your driest Merlot, if you’d please.” It’d been quite a while since she had humored mortal pleasures. She was curious to see if the humans had refined their craft at all.

 

[Lucyfer]

Dracula paused at the threshold, letting Hector go ahead. He, too, noticed the black smoke, and wondered at what Hector must have been doing to have it running so. Hector noticed their gazes when he paused on the walk towards his door, “Oh. That,” his gaze returned to them, and Dracula noticed then how strangely tired Hector seemed. He hadn’t noticed it before, “I thought I would temper some of my tools before…but I’ve finished. I knew I would have to be done by sunrise. I just need to kill the fire.”

He glanced between them, “You can come in. I’ll only be a moment, but…it might be more comfortable inside.”

He didn’t actually know if Dracula felt much impact by the weather, or even if Evelynne would. He presumed she was a vampire, even if not Lucilla. He didn’t truly know how to tell the difference between a vampire and a dhampir; he’d never met Alucard.

“Thank you,” Dracula stepped over the threshold, and he would follow Hector into his home, helping Evelynne along as he could until they were within the home, which was just as humble as someone would expect, no real doors throughout it, though there were doorways. Hector had not needed them and so he hadn’t wasted the material to build them when he created his home, only marking new rooms in the ways of entryways without doors.

And even then, some weren’t clearly demarked. The kitchen and the living area seemed one and the same, crowded together at the front, before there was a turn towards a bedroom, and on further down towards the rooms that were truly notable, those having to deal with his craft – his true craft as a forgemaster.

There was little to tell of Hector’s story, or personality, except perhaps in that bareness.

And he just walked on towards his forge, with Cezar following after him, though Dracula would let him go so far on his own. He would say then, “Hector is one of two. The other is a man named Isaac, who seems a…little better at making things different,” Hector preserved what was better, while Isaac twisted forms into golems – demons. Hector could do the same, but he knew Hector’s preferences.

When demons fell, Hector would be good at bringing them back.

When humans fell, Isaac would be good at twisting them into the minions Dracula needed – and the cycle would continue until they were all dead. “They have not met before.” And he was worried over it. Their personalities were…quite different. It hadn’t been a concern of Dracula’s, so long as the work was done, but now he considered that he may need to find a way to ease that transition into them working together.

They could hear Hector starting to throw some things into a bag, the clank of metal obvious from where they stood, just outside the forge. “I hope that you will find a way to get along with them. I do not care so much if you get along with the vampires,” a strange confession, perhaps, “but Hector and Isaac are…notable. They are like us.”

They hated humans, “Even if they are human themselves.”

~***~

The waiter took down Carmilla’s order, and Niamh frowned, before speaking to Antonia in Gaelic once more, “Human beverages?” Her query came, seeming to pout a bit, as Antonia nodded, “Pointless, they just go right through – oh what was it I used to like? They told me it was made with honey.”

“Mead?”

“Yes! I may be able to stomach that.” Antonia nodded, and glanced to the waiter, shifting tongues easily, “Do you serve mead here?”

“We do.”

“One of those,” she gestured towards Niamh to indicate who wanted it, as Niamh bobbed her head excitedly, “And a half of whatever port wine you have as well, with a side of water,” old habits did die hard, and while the wine was far weaker these days than it had been in Rome, and far less sweet, she still preferred to mix it with water as she’d done before. Even if she knew it had no hope of inhibiting her. As Niamh said – it was utterly pointless. If she wanted to get drunk she’d grab a drunk human.

Again, a slight snort from Cyrus came at that, as he shook his head at that old habit, “At least Carmilla has tastes – a dry red,” Cyrus said.

“I’ll just have whatever cider isn’t alcoholic,” he’d had it earlier, warmed and delicious, so he knew it was available. The waiter gave a nod, before he would look to collect the orders from the armored men, it rather apparent that they were followers moreso than anything else and likely wouldn’t have spoken before the others did.

With the orders taken, he would leave them to fetch their desires, and Cyrus butted in afterwards, “So what’s this story with Cassion?”

Antonia waved it off, a coy smile curving her lips, “As he said, a grand misunderstanding – I’ve adopted him, after all.”

“Ha!” Cassion couldn’t help the slight laugh at that, but he’d leave the story be for now, allow it to be told another time. He still found it rather amusing and had learned it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d lived for long stretches of time as a cat. It was beneficial that cats were known for wandering off at their leisure and coming back whenever; he certainly hadn’t worried when she vanished and returned. “Well then, all of you must have a story of meeting Carmilla – unless you’re all Styrian natives she’s drafted,” the way he said it spoke to rumors he’d heard, even if it was said with play. “Though I suppose that is a story in and of itself.”

 

[Blushing]

Despite his welcome, Evelynne was hesitant to enter Hector’s home. Only meekly stepping in once Dracula made a conscious effort to aid her. Inside, it was charmingly cozy and pleasantly warm. Hector was quite obviously a simple man. With little need for complex architecture or extravagant possessions.

For a moment, Evelynne would savor the warmth. It was a welcome contrast from the bitter cold outside, and she was happy to finally be rid of it. The forgemaster set off to gather his things. His precious little one waddling on faithfully beside him. Once he was out of earshot, Dracula would speak.

“Different…?”

The act of forging was an entirely new concept to Evelynne. Besides the basic idea of bringing things back to life, it was entirely lost on her. She wasn’t sure why Dracula needed two of them, but he must’ve had a reason.

Each one was essential, apparently. With them getting along being a concern of his. Evelynne wasn’t exactly the friendly type, and she hardly planned on socializing much once they reached their destination. She cared not for Hector, Isaac, nor their work – but for her own sake she would tolerate them. It wasn’t as if she had a choice anyway.

“Like… us?” Her tone was soft, a hint of uncertainty lingering underneath. Hardly anything likened any of them to her. Evelynne held her tongue, choosing to simply agree. “I’m sure we’ll get on fine.”

Vampires, on the other hand, made her nervous. Dracula had been courteous enough. However, she had a sinking suspicion that those she would find in her company wouldn’t be nearly as considerate.

“I must admit.” Evelynne suddenly spoke up again. “It eases my mind knowing I’m not expected to associate with my…brethren?” The last word had come as a question – as if she were asking permission to equate herself to them.

“Vampires can be…fickle. I think I’d be better off keeping to my own around them.”

------

It was clear by their collective expression that none of her guard had expected to have been addressed, even if only in jest. Their stoic expressions never faltered, but instead, their gaze would fall onto Carmilla. Cassion’s inflection implied he was hinting at something. Perhaps a rumor?

It could’ve been anything, but it didn’t seem to shake Carmilla. There were a few stories there. They were her intimate guard, after all.

The vampiress would give a soft, pleased chuckle. If anything, she figured she’d owed them a bit of their history. Something to keep them occupied while they waited for their drinks. Perhaps even spark a few new rumors in the process.

“Marcellus.”

The man in the middle would nod upon being addressed, and in reading the room, would actually respond.

“Yes, Lady Carmilla?” His voice was deep and somewhat monotone, with a touch of a Roman accent dawdling on his tongue. “Won’t you share the story of how we met?”

Marcellus’ expression changed, curiosity now lingering upon his features. He didn’t question her though, instead obliging her with a simple: “Of course, My Lady. I’d love to.”

The vampire would take a chair from the empty table behind them and pull it up. Sitting down behind his master as he pondered exactly how to begin. “I was an Inquisitor of a fledgling Catholic sect just south of the city.”

It would appear that even Carmilla’s allies hadn’t known this. Exchanging curious glances between themselves as Marcellus continued. “I was the right-hand man of the priest; my whole life was my holy work.” The vampire would pause, his golden gaze falling onto Carmilla. “Until I found something – someone worth facing eternal damnation for.”

Carmilla smirked. Oh, how she loved when they swooned. “I saw her once, and that was it. I was smitten. But, my men, not so much. They were already orchestrating a plan of attack. I couldn’t allow that, so I took care of things. I brought her all of their heads that night and that was that.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Dracula supposed it might not be worth worrying over things, if they all just got along and tolerated each other. He knew how Isaac would be. He would not care to make friends. He would just want to do his job, and see the end of things. Hector would mean little to him, except as an ally and fellow general. Evelynne would mean less to all of them, except as a non-human. The world might be better suited for her kind.

For Alucard….

But Alucard would despise it, and despise him.

“Yes, I suppose you will,” Dracula consented. He did not imagine Evelynne making much of a fuss or much noise. She might not even be visible most of the time, hiding somewhere in the castle where she could go undisturbed. He wondered if it was truly better to take her from Lucilla’s…but knew, somehow, it was.

She would rot there, and die.

He would rot in his own castle and die, but at least outside of that ruined garden, Evelynne had some hope in the world, when it was rid of humans.

Dracula gave a slight nod as he heard the inflection in her tone. While Evelynne was not a vampire, she was less human, and she would stand in the ranks of Dracula’s army. If she preferred to equate herself with vampires, over humans, it would be allowed. He would have shown Alucard the same courtesy. “No, I can barely tolerate them myself.” He agreed. The few he could, he doubted were going to join him.

The few who had any sense and understood humans were more than cattle were those who imagined him wrong. It was frustrating that they didn’t seem to understand that the purge was necessary, but they would be dealt with. In the end, all vampires, too, would perish.

“Though I am not sure if I should take offense for being called fickle.”

He wondered if she had meant to include him in her sweeping analysis, but an answer would not be easily allowed as Hector returned with a bag slung over a shoulder, clearly heavy given the way he was leaning. “All right. I’m ready.” He certainly didn’t read the room so well as he interjected in.

Cezar sprinted to the door with no hesitation, clearly reading things as it was time to leave, and he was eager to get outside again.

~***~

The accent was familiar to Antonia, though from a time after her. Ecclesiastical Latin, Italian, and her own Latin had distinct variations – and Italian was a fairly young language now. Still, she had been right to presume he may have been from Rome by name alone. It was notable that none of them spoke without permission, this interaction highlighting it even more.

He spoke easily of his enamored state to Lady Carmilla, and Niamh found herself blushing a bit, before she stated, “Oh! So are these men your harem?” Carmilla seemed a powerful woman, it was nothing to Niamh's train of thought to find it surprising she would have a harem. It was, perhaps, unusual for a woman to do so, but vampires always seemed better than humans at shirking norms and gender roles, something Niamh quite liked.

“Niamh!” Cyrus spoke the name a bit harshly, causing her to shrink, as Cassion just laughed aloud at the audacious question, causing the blood to rush to Niamh’s cheeks to paint them a pretty pink.

“It’s not a bad question,” he said as he regained himself quickly, so that Niamh wouldn’t fuss under embarrassment, “I’m certainly curious the answer myself, though it seems you hesitate to speak of your age," when Niamh had pointedly asked, "so I suspect you’ll hesitate to speak of other things that aren’t ladylike,” like a harem, or lovers, in general. Still, Cassion found it interesting that Carmilla would put such trust in an individual like that, who joined so quickly, with such a heated emotion.

He wouldn’t. Those emotions tended to burn out fast; fires like that were hard to feed. “I’m still interested in the other stories,” Cassion noted, as Marcellus was hardly the only one there. Were they all so truly infatuated with Lady Carmilla? It would be hard to fault them, based on looks alone, she was striking, but then, weren’t all vampires?

Young forever, and eternally graceful and beautiful…Cassion was glad his exposure at least made him not so easily swayed by a pretty face.

The waiter returned with their drinks, but didn’t speak this time, just placed them by each individual, before he would leave them.

Antonia offered no interjection, Learning more of Carmilla’s men, or their relations to her, were certainly on her own radar. She did not mind leaving it to Niamh’s fumbles and Cassion’s queries, and remained attentive, but silent, as she cut her own wine with the water that had been brought, diluting it further to cut the burn of the alcohol and enhance the sweetness, just that little bit.