Jeffrey stood firm on the grassy field, his chest heaving from the intensity of the duel with Victor. Though it was meant to be a friendly sparring match, both men fought as if their lives depended on it. Victor, his mentor, was just as engrossed. So focused was Jeffrey that he didn't notice the towering figure of his father, the Vampire Lord, observing from the sidelines.
A swift kick from Victor swept Jeffrey off his feet, and he crashed to his knees with a grunt. But before Victor could capitalize on his advantage, Jeffrey spun his leg out, catching Victor by surprise and sending him sprawling to the ground. Without missing a beat, Jeffrey was on his feet, the tip of his sword at his mentor's neck.
Victor surrendered, his hands raised in mock defeat. "You've got me, Ralph." They both laughed heartily as Jeffrey extended a hand to help Victor up.
"Father!" Jeffrey exclaimed, finally noticing the imposing figure of the Vampire Lord standing just beyond the field's edge.
"My Lord," Victor greeted, bowing respectfully.
The Vampire Lord's cold, piercing eyes remained fixed on his son. "You've grown stronger, Ralph" he said, his voice deep and measured. "You're almost twenty now, a man by any measure. It's time for you to take your place, as heir to this throne." A dark chuckle escaped him. "And on your birthday, you'll choose a woman to stand by your side."
Just then, a voice called from the distance. "Jeffrey!"
They all turned to see his mother approaching. Graceful as ever, she made her way toward them, bowing slightly to her husband. "My Lord."
"Mom," Jeffrey muttered, his voice carrying a note of irritation. "I've told you not to call me that. 'Jeffrey' sounds weak. Not befitting of a vampire lord's heir."
His mother's smile was gentle, teasing. "Oh? And what would you prefer I call you, my son?"
"You know my name." He paused, eyes gleaming. "Ralph. It has power. It commands fear."
His mother chuckled. "Lord Ralph it is, then."
That night, the family gathered in the grand hall for dinner. The dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows across the room. Human maids moved silently between the tables, offering themselves up for the vampires' needs.
At Ralph's side, a maid passed, and without thinking, his hand shot out, pulling her onto his lap. His fangs extended, his eyes darkening with hunger as he sank them into her neck. The sweet taste of her blood flooded his senses, intoxicating him. The chatter around the table faded as Ralph's world narrowed to the warmth of the blood coursing into his mouth. He drank greedily, his grip tightening.
But then he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, his mother's touch grounding him. "Ralph," she whispered, her voice calm but firm.
Reluctantly, Ralph released the girl. She slumped to the floor, gasping, as two guards rushed to take her away. The momentary silence in the hall was broken as conversation resumed, but Ralph's mind lingered on the dark satisfaction the blood had brought him. He could feel the eyes of his father on him, watching closely.
"Not yet," his father's voice echoed in his mind. "But soon."
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