Inside a pub within the outskirts of the Veorian Kingdom, a young man attempted to blend into the crowd. He pulled the blood red cape around himself tightly and headed to the furthest most table where a man sat alone drinking. The young man weaved his way throughout the standing people attempting not to attract any unwanted eyes. For the most part, no one paid him any attention, but some brave women took glances at him. When one attempted to block his way, he growled, and she immediately turned back around and walked away. Finally, he made it to the table. The man sitting had an amused grin on his face. "I see you are as friendly as ever."
Ignoring him, he pulled out the stool and took a seat. "I found her."
The older man rubbed his non-existent mustache on his face. "What happened? Did she see you?"
The young man sighed. "Yes, but it was an accident."
The older man tilted his head, "Was it really?" Kirnon did not make mistakes. He was as cold and calculative as any other royal member of the vampire line.
"..."
"Father, the pull was too strong. I couldn't help myself. I just wanted to have a closer look-" Kirnon was actually ashamed of himself. He knew that the time wasn't right. He understood that his wife didn't have her memories, that she thought she was a simple human. He wandered that swine filled country for years in hopes of simply catching a glimpse of her. But his travels were unsuccessful. He could not find her. He begged for his father to help but he refused every time. We must all fight for our own love. He would always say something as nonsensical as that. Love? What love? But his father would simply smile and ignore his questions. You will understand soon enough. And understand he did.
The years flew by quickly and so did the emptiness he felt within his very being. He couldn't explain it, but some force always drew him away from his home. Once he turned 116, the yearnings increased. At times they would become unbearable, causing his heart to ache uncontrollably. At first, the feeling annoyed him but then he felt downright anger. How could a person he never met before have such control over him! As the prince of Veroria there was no one that even dared to put restrictions on him or deny him—not even the king. No in fact, his father enjoyed the random displays of emotions that he would exhibit from time to time. He said it was nice to see him not in control for a change. That useless old man was anything but helpful and if he wasn't his father, he would have defanged him years ago! But alas, King Julian was indeed his father, one of the last pure-blooded vampires within the entire continent.
Prince Kirnon would distract himself by placing another woman on his arm. However, feelings of loneliness and dread would enter his heart and no amount of lustful nights could eradicate them. At the tender age of 120, he gave into these feelings and went in search of his future wife. His search led him all over the land but there was no sign of her. It was if she had disappeared and only lived to provide torture to his soul.
"Kirnon-," King Julian started.
"I know. I won't go again. She's safe for now. I don't want to bring any attention to her while she is so vulnerable. I need to make proper preparations to bring her to my side safely."
"I will leave it to you then."
"Father, I'm taking my leave first. Come back soon before Mother returns."
The king of the vampires smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I won't worry her." With his father's last reply, Prince Kirnon silently exited the bar. "Crimson," he whispered to himself. Suddenly a white-haired woman with bright red eyes appeared in front of him. She immediately bowed.
"Your majesty."
"Stand. The seal will be broken soon. Have those matters been taken care of?" He questioned.
"Replying to Your Majesty. Your Majesty's thoughts were correct. That woman has been meeting with those people more frequently within the past few months. Do you think it is due to Her Highness?"
"The possibility isn't low. I want you to take a more aggressive role in protecting my niece. We need to bring her to our side, even if we have to use force."
"As you wish. Does Your Majesty have any further demands?"
"Spare no one."
"Understood." After bowing once more. The woman named Crimson disappeared as quickly as she came."
King Julian looked around. He listened quietly to the beating hearts of humans who lived their lives in utter cluelessness. Their steady heartbeats acted as a calm river flowing through his troubled mind. His memories drifted back to that day long ago. His lips curved into a slight smile as his eyes wandered to the door.
Back in the Drecia Kingdom, Viscount Janequin's House
The room was quiet and only a lone candle provided light. The young girl walked in shyly, calling out to her young lord. "Your Honorable One?"
"Close the door." A commanding voice ordered. He watched the girl as she closed the door behind her. She stood in place nervously waiting for him to make his appearance. However, he refused to appease her heart and instead looked at her within the room's darkness. "Remove the braid from your hair." Tilda did as she was told. Her trembling hands loosened her braid allowing her tresses to fall on her back. Symounde stared at the scared bunny. Her features were delicate. She was slender, with dark brown hair and green colored eyes. Her cheeks held a slight blush and her pink lips were begging to be devoured. He smirked. "Come here," he ordered as he stepped out from the shadows. He sat on the bed and tapped the spot next to him, signaling for her to join him. She complied with his every wish without a hint of resistance. For some reason, her obedience was starting to annoy him. She didn't even have the courage to look him in the face. "Are you afraid of me?"
"Uh, no, I'm not." she stumbled getting her words out.
"Then why won't you look at my face? Are my looks so unappealing?"
"Of course not, Your Honorable One!" she almost shouted. "It's just my status--"
"It is true that you are not worthy to be taken even as my mistress." His fingers carelessly played with her hair. "But you will do for now."
His emotionless words laid bare the truth that Tilda didn't want to face. In the past, she was sought after by quite a few men, but she had greater ambitions. She had been working in the Viscount's house for over two years now. She worked diligently and had a good reputation within the household. She thought if she acted within her station and didn't actively seek the young master's affection, he would eventually take notice of her. Although it was not a secret that Symounde Hughes was a playboy, Matilda secretly wished that she was different. However, her fate had proven that she was another disposable, person. She would become this man's plaything and he would toss her to the side when he was done with her. Just as he did with the girls who came before her, and what he would continue to do once her usefulness had been worn out. Thinking of this, the fairytale within her dreams died and was replaced with the cold reality. Her heart calmed and she accepted her fate.
"Take your clothes off and lay down." Symounde noticed the subtle changes within the young girl, but he cared not. How dare she believe she was deserving of his affection? It was good enough that she bore a slight resemblance to the girl from the market, otherwise, he wouldn't have even noticed her. He undressed himself completely and climbed onto the bed, his chest hovering above that of the maid.
Her heart raced as she stared at the man who would forever look down on her. She slowly moved her hands from over her chest and looked at this man's well-toned body. He was undeniably attractive, that fact could not be denied. She became more resolute with her decision and waited for him to crush her flower. But the pain never came. Matilda gathered her courage and stared into the man's face. Confusion apparent in her eyes. He didn't seem the type to interested in foreplay.
Symounde glared at the pretty girl who laid in anticipation beneath him. Her behavior fell in line with his expectations, and it became exceedingly clear that she was just another useless commoner. No personal pride. Her only goal was to use her looks to get into the bed of a young master. He was sure, that even if he wasn't the one to take her, any other young master would have the same opportunity. His eyes darkened as he thought about how cheap this woman truly was. He looked at the eagerness in her eyes; no longer able to hold in his anger, he slapped her hard across the face, just as that woman had slapped him earlier.
The slap shocked her. Instinctively, she raised her hand to her face. Fear quickly overtaking her mind as the palm mark became more apparent. Before she could properly react, she felt an intense burning sensation within her core. She wanted to scream out but could only cry quietly as the man above her didn't let up. He quickened his pace. The disdain apparent within his golden eyes as he repeatedly slammed himself into her. Matilda dared not make a sound. She bit her lips and turned towards the one candlelight that continued to flicker throughout the night.