Sirens fed off desire. Julien could smell the waves of desire rippling off his future husband.
But strangely enough, the desire was not directed at him. Even though he perfectly exemplified the gentle, delicate and submissive fashion of a foreign beauty that was always popular with vampire royals, Myriem had not even a sliver of desire for him. It was all directed elsewhere - to someone not near - wafting away with purpose like flies in the wind.
Julien glanced at Third Prince Myriem through his veil, demurely glancing away a moment later, but there was no need for him to play the role of a shy bride. Myriem was looking at the ministers, flat-out not paying attention to the 'princess' in his arms.
Julien didn't mind, he had plenty of time to coax Myriem's gaze. But he found it curious. He was quickly understanding why it was more effective for him to hide his malehood.
A startled leech was always easier to catch than a prepared one.
The feminine overclothes swayed and swooshed with Julien's every step, the light silks fluttering like the wings of butterfly as he allowed Myriem to turn him over with practiced ease. With every step, Julien evaluated every bit of the vampiric castle he could see.
The vampires had an allergic reaction to sunlight, avoiding it how the water-folk avoided the land of the sea jellies. Just as sirens built their homes with sleeves that trapped fish for their meals, the vampires had tall buildings with tops that opened up, using mirrors to reflect the brightness of the sky instead of having windows that allowed direct sunlight in to burn them.
The towering forms seemed to extend up to the clouds, visible in the moonlight. It resulted in a feeling of insignificance, being out in the open and yet trapped perfectly, like livestock in a grassy pasture, given enough space to roam around and feed, but evermore confined in their enclosure.
Julien felt no awe at the delicately carved towers, the spiraling steps and drapes larger than a small town. He pitied these landlocked swines. Seven parts of the world was water, and sirens ruled the most. How could he feel any respect for these paltry little castles?
The vampire's culture was very different than his siren homeland. Julien was born and raised in the water, like all siren nobility, so it was only natural he felt a mild disdain for the land-folk.
It disheartened him to think he would be stuck here for so long. He would finish his duty as soon as possible. Julien already couldn't wait to return to the ocean.
Thinking such, he glanced once more at the Third Prince.
Myriem was good-looking by any standard. Neither deathly pale like the pureblood vampire ministers, nor wondrously beautiful like Julien and his siren brethren, Myriem was a stimulating mix of a strong body and a strong mind. Taller than Julien by a few minnows width, his dark hair was only a fraction as long as Julien's, but it was well-groomed and thick, and his deep-set eyes were coloured like honey made of blood. His skin didn't have the ashy colouring of the older purebloods, but he didn't have the sun-kissed glow of the sirenfolk either.
Julien let his eyes roam downwards. He had seen Myriem with a large cloak when he'd arrived, but that had concealed the toned muscles emphasized in his form-fitting suit. All sirenfolk had firm upper halves, so Julien was not roused until his eyes drifted even lower.
The sirens spent the most of their time in their wet form, those who lived in the water only used their legs when copulating. They did not have defined and well-developed legs like the land-folk.
Julien felt a sinister urge to bite into a thigh, see how hard the muscle was.
Ah, well. He'd have enough time to inspect the vampire's legs later. All three of them.
Peeking over at the ministers Myriem was preoccupied with, Julien's veil hid his cold and calculating gaze. He glanced over the leeches with disinterest. He knew each person's name, rank and title, political affiliation, familial lineage, what schools their kids went to, and what they had for dinner last night. The answer to the last was always unfailingly blood, but Julien knew exactly which type, of what species and what breed of that species.
He noted that none of them took siren blood except one.
Julien braved a glance at the other prince. Second Prince Keel was drinking a glass of bloodwine as he watched Myriem and Julien dance, playing the role of a respectfully prideful older brother, looking pleased at his younger brother's romantic success.
Julien's eyes met Keel's through the veil, but there was no way for Keel to know.
That's just as well, Julien thought. Soon, he'd have every eye on him, and he would then make sure to gouge them out.