Once we're back inside the house, Adrian bustles about, draping a blanket over my shoulders and shoving hot chocolate into my hands. I giggle silently to myself. A little dampness is hardly going to get me sick. He sits behind me, rubbing at my shoulders worriedly.
I pat at his hands reassuringly. Instead, I reach over and pass him his version of the script, still sitting on the table from before, and get up to find myself some food.
But Adrian pulls me right back down onto the sofa. "Don't get up. I'll make you something." I sigh and let him go, but I shrug off the blanket once he's in the kitchen. I don't want it getting soaked from my wet dress. Besides, it'll dry faster if it's exposed to the air.
Adrian brings me a toasted sandwich and some soup, and settles onto my lap to read his script as I eat. But before I have a chance to finish, he's already tapping on my shoulder. "Adelaide. It's really vague here, I'm not sure how to interpret this. What would you be doing here?"
I scan over the lines. It's a section where the princess is taking the fall for one of the foolish prince's mistakes. I reach for the pen, but find myself struggling to find the words. It's not so easy to explain succinctly.
Instead, I draw a little sketch of Virgil. I'm sure he'd be willing to finally unlock my voice, since everyone's on board. Adrian giggles. "Oh my gosh, what an adorable rendition. You want me to go find him, then?" I nod, and he trots off.
But it's a little while before they return. I end up finishing my sandwich while I wait. Finally, I hear Virgil call from the doorway. "I only came because Adrian said you drew me. Is that...true?"
Quickly, I grab the paper and hide it behind my back. Virgil leans over the sofa. "Where is it?"
I shake my head and tap on my neck ribbon. He huffs a sigh and pulls out his key. "Fine." At long last, the lock clicks open.
"Ohhh, my god," I croak. "Finally." I glare at Virgil. "Please don't ever do that to me again."
He pouts. "I'll do whatever I please with my key. But Adrian wasn't lying, right?" His eyes are shining, and he notices my arm tucked behind my back. "Is that it?"
I giggle and pass it to him. "It's not that exciting, so don't get your hopes up too high."
He examines it closely. "Is...is this how you see me?"
"Well, uh…" I shift uncomfortably. "It was just a quick sketch, so-"
"I love it," he breathes, holding it to his chest.
I start in surprise. "You...what?"
"Told you that you'd like it," giggles Adrian, but I can't tear my eyes away from Virgil's intense gaze.
"You'll draw more for me, won't you?" He's so serious, it's ridiculous.
"Umm, sure…" I reply awkwardly, "but I'm really not that skilled. I can only really draw flowers and faces."
Virgil nods and grips my shoulders. "That's fine by me. I can reward you well."
I nod slowly. His expression doesn't change, and I find myself bubbling with laughter. "Virgil, you're so funny," I chuckle. "Getting so intense over something so small."
His cheeks turn pink with surprise. "Well, I just like art, okay?" he grumbles.
I wave my hand at him. "No no, please don't be upset. It's not a bad thing. I think it's cute."
He turns even more pink. "C-cute?!"
"It's a compliment, Virgil," teases Adrian, coming over to sit next to me. "You should be happy."
"I don't want to hear that from you," grumbles Virgil, turning away with a huff.
"Wait," I say, catching his sleeve. "Don't leave, we didn't ask for you just for that."
"Really?"
"Really," I reply, and pat the seat next to me. "Adrian has questions about the play."
At that, Virgil practically leaps onto the sofa. "Finally," he breathes, eyes glittering. "I knew you could convince them. This is going to be so much fun."
As we go over the script, Lucien and Dante both wander in as well, probably hearing the conversation from their rooms. Virgil's enthusiasm is catching, and we delve into the play, discussing our thoughts and deciding how we want to portray the characters. I find myself on my feet constantly, walking around the room as I act out what I would be doing at each moment, giving them each ideas on how to deliver their own lines. Despite their earlier reluctance, I can tell that Dante and Lucien are genuinely enjoying themselves, and everyone is adjusting to Virgil's coaching without argument.
By the time evening rolls around, the three princes are already remembering many of their lines without looking. I'm shocked, but by Virgil's reactions, this is normal for vampires. Lucky them. I may not have hardly any lines, but I need to know exactly what everyone else is saying and when. I start feeling a little nervous, and find myself pacing in a corner of the room.
Adrian notices and calls over to me. "Adelaide, dear, are you alright?"
I chuckle nervously. "I'm looking forward to it, but...this feels very official suddenly, and I don't actually know what I'm doing, and I'm afraid I'll just destroy everyone's hard work."
"I'm sure you'll be-" begins Adrian, but Virgil cuts him off.
"Well, this is a test of your skill."
That just makes me even more nervous, and Adrian shoves at Virgil. "What? It's true. Besides, she'll have me to direct her the whole time. It can't be that bad."
Now I'm imagining an intense Virgil looming over me, directing me to repeat scenes again and again until he's satisfied. "I'm going to cook my dinner," I say, spinning around and heading towards the kitchen.
"She's still just a human, Virgil," chides Adrian in the room. "You can't push her as hard as your usual actors."
"I know that," he replies defensively. "I thought I was being gentle."
Dante chuckles.
"I think she can handle it," speaks up Lucien. "She's plenty resilient. Besides, you want this to go well, don't you?"
Ugh, trying to make my life hard again. I shake my head and focus on my dinner. I'll worry about that later.
As soon as I sit down, Virgil scoots into my lap.
"You called me an 'inelegant eater' the other day, and yet you do this?" I ask him, looking down at his face.
He turns his head away with a slight pout. "Well, you haven't spilled yet. And the punishment would be severe if you did."
"Yes, yes," I chuckle, and start eating, leaning carefully over the table.
Adrian claps his hands together, eyes shining. "So. What about our costumes?"
"Costumes?" drawls Dante. "Is that really necessary?"
"Yes," agrees Lucien. "If it's just to test Adelaide and satisfy Virgil, must we really?"
"No, no, you don't understand," insists Adrian. "There's opportunities here. The princess doesn't just wear court clothing. There's that scene in her bedroom, Dante, with you. And Lucien, when she disguises herself as a barwench? And then at the end, when she's strung up-"
"A-Adrian, that's really not necessary-" I start, but it's too late. Both Dante and Lucien are looking at me with the same glimmering eyes. "You realize that means all of you have to wear costumes as well, right?" I shoot at them.
"Yes, but we'd rarely have to change," shrugs Lucien. "Besides, it's good for realism, wouldn't you say, Virgil?"
Virgil sits up from my lap slowly.
"You know, that's going to be a lot of extra-"
"Yes," he interrupts me. "The costumes are important." His eyes are shining just like the rest of them. I groan and flop back onto the couch. This is getting more and more stressful by the moment.
As soon as I finish eating, Virgil tugs impatiently on my arm. "Come on. I want to keep working on this in our room."
"'Our' room again," giggles Adrian, but Virgil ignores him. I snatch up my copy of the script on the way out.
True to his word, though he's buzzing with energy, Virgil is patient with me as we talk about what I want to do for each scene. He offers suggestions that I hadn't even thought of, and adjusts my poses to become visually stronger. It's fun, but I'm running out of steam.
We're working on the scene where the princess gets kidnapped. He's behind me, holding me by the wrists while I'm on my knees.
"So, when I 'throw you down', you have to land on your shoulder and then fall flat on your face, so you don't actually hurt yourself. Ready?"
I nod, but I have something else in mind. When he releases my hands, I spin around mid-fall and grab his arms, pulling him down with me with a thump.
"B- That's not-" he sputters.
I just laugh underneath him. "Gotcha."
But in a flash, he pins my arms to my sides. "You've got it backwards," he murmurs, and sinks his teeth into my neck.
His old habit is back. He drinks in deep gulps, barely slowing down to breathe. I writhe a little, but he's locked me in an iron embrace. I feel light-headed and try to speak, but nothing comes out. Soon, the blackness creeping in is too strong for me to resist, and I slip into unconsciousness.
I feel awful when I finally wake up, almost as bad as the very first night. I can feel the enchantment symbols hot on my skin even now. I open my eyes groggily. It seems like I'm on the sofa again. Adrian's leaning over me, looking concerned, but all I can think about is food. When I rove my eyes about, looking for anything to eat, I see Virgil pouting in the corner.
Next to him, Dante smiles calmly, radiating anger. "How do you feel?" he asks.
"...Hungry." I croak.
"Here." Lucien passes a bowl of recovery soup to Adrian and helps me sit up. Adrian holds the bowl to my lips and helps me drink it down.
"See, she woke up within the day," grumbles Virgil. "I didn't take that much."
I can feel Dante's irritation flare, even without seeing him. I stop for a moment. "Virgil, you just drank too fast. I'm fine, but it'll knock me into healing sleep for longer when you do that." I look around again. "How late is it, anyway?"
"You only slept half the day away," mumbles Virgil, "but it's my day, so it doesn't matter. You'll be fine tomorrow."
"Right…" I reply. "Well, I want to rest in my room after I finish my food."
"But-"
"Consider it your punishment," replies Dante sternly.
"Fine, fine," Virgil mumbles, slumping away.
Once I can sit up on my own, Lucien also wanders off to do his own thing. Adrian's still hovering over me like a worried mother hen, though, and doesn't let me stand up to put away the bowl. "I'll do it, I'll do it," he huffs.
Now's my chance. I stand up to head to my room, and as I pass Dante, I grab his fan, hoping he'll understand. He clings to it for a moment before he seems to realize, and I slip it into my pocket just before Adrian returns.
"Ack, Adelaide," he chides me, "You're too weak to walk around right now. What if you get sick?" He rushes to my side and supports me.
I shove at his face. "Leave me alone, Adrian. I just want to rest."
"Not until I get you to your room," he insists.
At last, he leaves me alone, though not after wandering about the room aimlessly for a while. Finally, the room is silent. I sigh and lay back down. In the quiet, I start to worry if maybe I left my intentions a little too unclear back there. Dante is clever enough to understand me….but he's also clever enough to purposefully misinterpret my actions.
But I don't have to wait long. The door swings silently open, and in a moment, Dante's figure seems to fill the room. He closes the door behind him with a soft click.
"Well, well, little bird," he purrs, climbing onto the bed, "I never expected you to be so forward. Having second thoughts about our night in the gazebo?"
As I thought, he's taken the second option, but I can't help but flush at his words and piercing gaze."You know that wasn't my intention," I shoot back. "I wanted to talk to you without causing ripples."
Dante chuckles, low in the throat. "Oh, really? And why, pray, did you decide your room was the best place for that? It wasn't so that you don't have to worry about being heard?" He's straddled me completely by now, smiling triumphantly.
"It was just more convenient, okay?" I stutter, pushing against his chest. I should have thought this over more!
He chuckles again. "I know. You're strangely foolish sometimes." He finally sits up, and I breathe a sigh of relief. "But keep making mistakes like this," he adds, "and I really will take you one of these days."
I bury my burning face in my hands.
"Now, if you'll excuse me…" I feel his hand running along my thigh, and I try to slap it away. He catches my wrist instead. "Calm down." He pulls his fan from my pocket, and I feel embarrassed for a different reason.
"Oh...right…" I try to calm myself down.
Dante opens the fan and examines it. "Ah. A shame."
"What were you expecting?" I ask doubtfully.
"A poem," he replies matter-of-factly. "Why else would a woman take a man's fan in such a suggestive way?"
"It was not suggestive," I pout. "And besides, I'm sure you know that I wouldn't have any idea about such a custom."
"That's a lie," he replies with a grin.
"It is n-" I begin, but then pause. "Well, actually, I suppose you're half right."
"There's no shame in admitting it," Dante drawls, tapping my nose with his fan.
I push it away from my face. "Well, yes. I do know about sending fans to each other with poems on them, but never directly taking it from their hands. I mean, it seems a bit obvious for court drama."
"Hmmmm." He tilts his head to the side with an ambiguous smile. "You'd be surprised what you can get away with in the middle of court."
I narrow my eyes at his expression. "I can't deny that I'm curious, but…"
"But?" His grin widens.
"But I don't want to know," I say decisively. "I plan to spend as little time as possible in court."
"What makes you so sure you wouldn't get selected?" he asks, tilting my head up with his fan.
I tear my chin away. "I don't want to be selected."
Dante seems genuinely shocked. "You...don't? That's every thrall's dream. And you're even closer with the enchantment."
I shrug. "I don't want to join the court," I reply flatly.
"Now, now," he chides, moving closer, "Have you just convinced yourself that you don't want it because of your little rebellion? If you're good after this, they'll ignore it, you know. You can still qualify."
I shake my head. "I never wanted it. It's not because I don't think they'll accept me. I don't want to meet their requirements."
"Hmmm. And what do you mean by that?" He lays on his side, settling into the bed. It's so small that his weight is like a crater in the mattress.
I lay down beside him in turn. "Well, the technical qualities are fine and all, but excluding people simply because they never had the opportunities to learn arts and education is awfully foolish. There are potential geniuses too poor to learn, and plenty of rich fools who've simply had all the free time in the world to practice and parrot others' work!"
"I agree with you there, but you realize that you yourself are an example of someone who made your own opportunities, don't you?"
I shake my head firmly. "No. I was lucky." I count on my fingers as I go. "First, I originally came from a small town. I didn't have to compete with very many people. Second, I had a lot of friends my age who survived the initial feeding. We were able to support each other….at first. Anyway, then I first served someone who loved poetry. I accompanied her to poetry readings and learned to read from there. After that, when I was admitted into the Palazzo itself, the vampires I was serving weren't offended or threatened by me trying to read their books. They thought I was cute, and ignored me. And all of this was only possible thanks to my natural blood capacity and recovery rate, which I mentioned before."
"Hmmmm…" Dante murmurs. "That's an awfully complicated process."
"You were turned a long time ago, weren't you?"
He nods. "I was turned by a noble vampire tens of thousands of years ago. But I wasn't brought into the new court until I passed their evaluation. Well," he chuckles, "I call it the 'new' court, but I suppose it's been established for quite a little while now."
"Hmmm." I turn onto my back, musing. "I would have liked to see the world, then."
"You cannot see the past, but you could easily meet the future."
I turn to meet his dark eyes. He continues.
"It really would be a shame not to turn you. Do your problems with the court really run deep enough to lose such an opportunity? Or is it just that you fear this life?" He spreads his arm. "Deep down, do you share that primal fear? Afraid to become a creature of the night, hungering for the blood of innocents?"
I meet his gaze squarely. "No."
He evaluates me for a moment. "Then why? What would get you to join?"
I stare up at the ceiling. A lot of things about the court would have to change before I joined."
"Like a revolution?"
"Perhaps."