*Ana*
"I don't wanna go," I whimper again, biting my chubby lower lip before lifting carmine eyes above us to find charcoal clouds swirling overhead.
It could snow at any minute, judging by the frigid and dry air. Freezing, my chubby fingers beat red despite the wool gloves I was forced into by the old nursemaid. The very same woman, whose weathered face turns back to me now, wrinkles folding into themselves around her mud-brown eyes as if she, too, is struggling.
Yet if she does, it doesn't stop her from giving me another tug on my hand, pulling us down one more step. My booted feet dragged against the white stone. Making me let out another strangled cry of anguish.
"Please, I'll be good for Stepmother, "I plead through the thick hot tears. Each drop searing a path down my cheeks, before pooling on the tip of my sharp chin, before finding its way to freeze sharply on my neck.
"I swear. I swear, so please don't." I go on, swallowing back my tongue, hoping if I am sincere enough if I'm true, she'll stop. And we can go back inside the castle where it's warm. Where Papa is and where I'll be safe and…
"You'll be happy in your mother's homeland of Nochten, Princess Anastasia."The nursemaid's voice is tight, as if words were being dragged up her throat by a string. And as if that wasn't enough, she tilts her head toward me, pulling back her lips like a smile. But the smile is ruined by her tears trailing down the linework of her puckered face.
"You will be back with your kind." She goes on as if that can explain why this is happening. As if that should help me. But it doesn't
My kind? I keep hearing that, my kind this and my kind that, over and over. But what does that mean? And why do I have to leave my home?
"Please, I swear-" I chatter my teeth as a gust of snowy wind pushes us back against the cobblestone. Its icy fingers ripped against our cloaks, snagging and snapping the hair band behind me. Unleashing the argent tendrils to whip and snap with abandoned rage.
My hair temporarily blinds me in a curtain of solid silver. Silver, unlike anyone else I have seen with the color. A color Papa once called special, a proof of the love between him and my late mother.
But I don't know her. She died when I was a baby. And I don't want it if it means I have to leave.
I want to go back inside where it's warm. I want to go back to Papa.
"Don't make me go," I sob, thin snot running down my nose. I push the heels of my leather boots against the stones, grinding up rock in desperation to stop. Anything that will stop us from getting to the end where the carriage awaits me.
"Let me go!"
"Your Highness," The nursemaid's voice trembles, but still, her hand grips my gloved fingers tighter.
"The vampires will take care of you and love you." She goes on, not bothering to whip away her own tears, as she drags on. "You won't ever feel unloved ever again."
Unloved? The words stick sharply in my throat like I swallowed glass. Was I unloved? Was that why…
"Papa!" I snap back, sterling locks whipping behind me in one motion as my eyes lift to the castle, searching for those kind and warm eyes.
"Where is Papa?"
There he is! I see him. Papa and Stepmother are standing inside the grand window that overlooks the entrance. They stand together, his great and muscular frame tall against her dainty stature, her hands rubbing over her swollen belly protectively.
"Papa!" My voice cracks as I implore again, catching his sapphire-colored eyes with mine. "Papa, I don't want to go-"
But something is wrong. Papa isn't smiling. Why isn't he smiling? Why isn't he coming to help me?
"Papa?" I weakly entreat before my breath catches between the cracks of my lips. Papa is turning away from the window until I can not even see his tall back anymore. He is gone.
"Yes, they will love you so much, Princess Anastasia," The nursemaid, meanwhile, cups her hands under my arms to lift me up and into the carriage. Her weathered hands dragged the door to click closed, immediately muting the sounds of the harsh winds and biting cold.
"Be good." The nursemaid's lips mouth out before she steps back to join the other servants. All who look after me, cheeks slick and wet but trying to smile. As if to wish me well before a whip cracks over, and the carriage jerks forward. Rocking against the cobblestone until gradually, the yellow castle disappears into the now-falling snow.
~
When the carriage finally rocked to a stop, I shuddered a shaky breath but willed myself to look through the small glass window. Curious to see what would be my new home.
In front of me, a long pathway of smooth limestone leads to a ground-level palace. Its walls and towers are carved in the same white stone, topped with gold and teal domes with antennas shooting into the sky as if ready to pierce clouds.
The white is a stark contrast against the mountains of endless yellow sand that surround every side of it.
Before the grand doorway is a water fountain. Gushing and gurgling life, as if mocking the harsh and bitter land.
But the joke is lost to me as something more prominent takes hold of my attention. There is a heavy line of people standing on either side as if waiting.
They must have come to welcome me. I look out at the endless group of redheads. All Vampires. Nochten the known empire for them before a wave of dizziness comes. I must grab the cushion tightly and shut my eyes as the carriage rocks back before I hear the door open. It's the coachman who comes to get me.
"Your Majesty?" The small man holds out his hand to me, but I see something move past his shoulder. Three people, no vampires, are approaching, each with the customary red hair and eyes.
The tallest, a broadly built woman with thick legs and a thin nose between a diamond-shaped face, seems to be leading the way. Holding her arm, struggling to keep up with her long strides, is a portly man, bald, with circle glasses. The third is a boy of 12 years, a clear combination of features from the first two but leaning on the handsome side like his mother.
"Your Majesty?"
"Yes? Oh." I remember and move to take his hand and step down. But as soon as my feet touch the limestone, my breath hitches tightly, and I begin to shake my head.
"Take me back," I whimper, curling my fingers around his like a death grip. "Please."
"Your Majesty?" He looks after me, furrowing his brows. But if there was any chance he would do anything, it falls away as they are abruptly surrounded by a cry of voices going at once.
"All praise to Empress Anastasia!" And everyone goes to kneel, with a hand over their heart.
Why are they doing that? I don't know, but it's scarier, and I pull myself closer to the coachman, my little claws poking through my mittens as I do.
If I didn't want to let go before, I definitely don't want to let go now.
"Your Empress." The broad woman's voice curls as she makes to stand first, followed by the portly man, then their son. All standing, dressed in sashed robes of silk, metallic thread, and fur.
Immediately, I feel their red eyes turn on me as one. No, It's not at me. They are looking at my hair. Looking and wrinkling their noses at the sight before the tall woman could force her voice once more.
"Welcome to Nochten, the empire of vampires-"
"I wanna go home." I don't even let her finish before I go back to the servant.
"Please, take me back." I pull on his hand, holding it even tighter.
"Your Highness,"
"Please!"
The tall woman steps forward.
"Empress Anastasia?"
But I don't want to look at her.
"Take me with you." I look up at the manservant, swallowing back a new rush of tears. "Please, I don't want to be here."
"Your majesty?"
"Ahem," The harsh sound of the broad woman clearing her throat has the coachman stiffening his shoulders. A low swallow bobs in his throat before he solemnly nods a slit tilt of his head before he steps back. His hand pulled away from mine.
"No, don't-" Don't leave me with these strangers.
I grasp out into the air. But it's too late. He climbs back up the small ladder on the side and cracks the whip. The horses snort and lurch forward with a huff before the carriage wheels begin to roll into speed.
I drop my hand to my side as the last bit of my hope drives off into the distance. Leaving me all alone.
"Your Empress," The tall woman coughs into her hand as if slightly irritated by the display, wanting to hurry this along.
"I am Funda, your mother's sister." The broad vampire begins.
"And this, your Uncle Charles. And our son Mykhol, your cousin." She pauses for me to take note of them before carrying on.
"Until you're first blood, your uncle and I will act as regents for the empire."
Aunt Funda explains and lifts her foot to step closer, but then something shifts over features like doubt, making her rock the step back.
"Tomorrow will be the beginning of your lessons. We will first take you to your room to wash. After that, you will be dressed in our Nochten gowns"
Aunt Funda turns on her sandaled heel, husband, and son following, to lead back up the paved pavement back to the open doorway. Their footsteps were already moving in sync as if rehearsed.
Aunt Funda goes on before she thinks to look over her shoulder to see me still standing. "Your Empress?"
Aunt Funda raises her brow. "Your Empress, you need to follow me."
"No!"
"What was that, your Empress?"
"Take me back!" I snap and drop to my knees, ready to resist.
"I don't want to be here! I wanna go home! I want Papa!"
I don't care about my kind or how nice they are supposed to be. I don't like it here at all. It's too strange and bare. And vampires look scary.
"I want-" My demand falls short on the tip of my tongue as I look up to find no one moving. But that's not right.
Someone always comes. Some kind enough person will come to me and pick me up in their arms and rock me till I stop.
Just like Papa would. I want someone to pick me up, hug me, and tell me it will be okay.
But no one is moving.
Aunt Funda makes a strained expression, pulling in her thin eyebrows before looking at the portly man and boy. But they shake their heads, unsure what to do. It's the same for the rest of the crowd.
Around me, red eyes glance at each other, but no one dares go further. It's almost like they don't want to. In the end, they just decide to do nothing and return to watch me.
The only one who doesn't is the only one with chocolate brown eyes. A human, standing in the midst with his choppy brown hair and a deep scar cut through his eyebrow. He frowns after me, but that's all. He doesn't move even then.
Why…isn't anyone coming? I suck in a choppy breath, jerking my eyes around at this unfamiliar sight.
Didn't she say I would be happy and that they would love me?
But I don't see anything like that here. I don't see a gentle expression or warm smile among any of them. Just red eyes staring after me.
No, it's my hair. I move to touch it, suddenly conscious of those beady red eyes burning into my silver locks. The only other hair color besides red, making it sticking out sinfully among them.
"Your Empress," Aunt Funda repeats, pulling her long lips into a hollow smile. "Are you finished?"
"I, yes, er, Aunt Funda." I stiffly nod, wobbling as I push myself up. My feet shift, catching sand underneath, almost making me topple forward and fall. But still, no one moves.
The three just stand by, waiting.
"This way," Aunt Funda repeats, again turning with her men effortlessly toward the doors.
"Hold on-" I gasp, struggling to pull up my heavy velvet skirt as they walk too quickly.
"Please-it's too fast." But they must not hear me because they keep walking.
"She's so weak." Someone snickers around me.
"That's what you get for a halfling." Another chimes in.
"Half?" My feet halt at the word, looking back into the crowd, but I can't tell any of them apart. It's just a sea of red.
Everyone looks so similar. Everyone looks like they belong, except for me. But that doesn't make sense.
Aren't they 'my kind?"
"Empress Anastasia?" It's Aunt Funda again. "What is the delay?"
"my dress-" I shift back, grateful that she's noticed. " It's too heavy. If you could just walk a bit slower."
"Is something wrong with your legs?"
"Er- no, but-"
"Then use them." And she returns to glide ahead, with her husband in her arms, over the limestone. But the younger one lingers back, halfway to find me. His crimson eyes fell over me, my hair, then back to my face with an unreadable expression.
Does he want to help me? I can almost cry out for joy right there as I lift my hand toward him.
"Could you-"
"Slowpoke."The boy snarks before he turns on his sandals to follow after his parents. He doesn't look back after me again. None of them do.
As if I'm not even here. Or maybe… they don't want me to be?
She lied to me. I grip the side of my dress as I realize at that moment the nursemaid lied about everything. But even if it's a lie. What can I do?
I am no longer Princess Anastasia anymore, and this is not Dawny. This is my new life as Empress. A life that I will have to get used to from now on and press my feet harder into the limestone to try and catch up to them.