“And just who and what are you?” Vlad did not seem very threatening tonight. Actually, he was being polite and somewhat lordly, rather like he had behaved when I had first met him.
“I am Lady Glynis Wright of England. And I am a vampire,” I answered.
Vlad began to chuckle. “A very good answer, Lady Glynis Wright. Now sit down.”
I obeyed, my hands primly folded on my lap. I met his gaze full on, my eyes feeling rather bright and shrewd. I watched him carefully, trying to ascertain how I should respond to this bizarre foreign man.
“I called you here because it is important that you understand certain aspects of our existence. We are Vampires. We kill for blood: hunters, travelers, villagers if they defy us, whomever pleases us. You are now my wife, my Bride. I expect you to act as such. You are not allowed to leave the castle grounds without my permission. I hold you here under my power. There is no escape. We all sleep together in the tombs in the chapel unless I otherwise allow. I expect you to dress appropriately. In England, you may dress this way. In my home, you will dress as I please. And this,” he motioned to my dress, “does not please me.”
“I do not want to be here,” I stated firmly. “I want to return home.”
“I forbid it. The matter is settled. I am your Master, the Brides are your sisters, and this is your home.”
“We shall see,” I said stoically, emulating my dear departed father. “Now, may I be excused?”
Vlad studied my face intently and the dark passion I had witnessed in his green eyes before was beginning to grow within their emerald depths. It made me vastly uncomfortable and I suddenly wanted to escape back to the Brides’ chambers.
“Have Cneajna and Ariana dress you as you were. I will have none of this Englishness in my household. You may go.” Vlad pointedly returned to his reading.
I stood up and tossed my head in defiance. Haughtily, I strode from the room. To my surprise, I heard him chuckle to himself.
I took my time going back to the Brides’ chambers. I was feeling quite contrary and did not want to obey him. At the same time, I knew if I pushed him too far, violence would surely befall me. Honestly, all I truly wanted was a few precious moments of peace.
When I entered the room, Elina was standing at the windows gazing down at the river that cuts through the gorge below our castle. Ariana and Cneajna were sorting through some clothing and jewels, whispering softly.
“Vlad says I am not to look English,” I announced.
“The Master was grieved by your appearance?” Cneajna looked at my outfit and sighed. “I think you look rather pretty.”
I frowned and stomped my foot. “He is such a bastard. However do you stand him?”
Elina turned sharply toward me. “He is our husband. You best remember that.”
“Bah!” I waved my hand over my head. “He is a brute. I despise him.”
Seeing their shocked expressions, I frowned even more. I hated this place. I hated everything about it. But at this moment, I was at a loss as to how to escape. Sighing, I began to disrobe, removing once more all that was left of my life as Lady Glynis Wright. “I like my clothes. Why ever does he want us to dress like we do? It is utter nonsense.”
“The Master spent time in Adrianople when he was a young man and was intrigued by the female slaves of the Sultan,” Cneajna responded and drew a long filmy gown over my head.
“Ah, so he has dressing as slave women! I should have known. It is utterly preposterous.”
Ariana giggled and wrapped an ornate belt around my waist. “Oh, Glynis, you are so very naughty.”
I stomped my foot and tossed my head. “Really? Well, I would rather be naughty and wear my own clothing than dash about in this ridiculous costume.” As I spoke, Cneajna laid a heavy necklace around my neck and placed bracelets around my pale wrists.
“Well, I think you look lovely either way,” Cneajna said soothingly.
Elina whirled about. “Must you always be such a ridiculous creature! He dresses us as his Brides.” She flung out her hands, the jewels adorning her rings and bracelets flashing in the firelight. “He made us his Princesses. Before this I was merely a peasant’s daughter. I remember the days of endless toil for the most meager of profits. I remember the endless hunger and the filth we lived in. I remember! And now, I am the wife of the greatest Wallachian warrior of all time, Vlad Tepes, the Dragon, the Impaler!”
I was shocked at the vehemence in her voice. “Impaler? Whatever does that mean?”
Elina drew close to me, her pale face stark in the firelight, her long black raven hair gleaming. “He was a great man. He destroyed his enemies, impaled them for all to see.”
I blanched, remembering my poor father’s torn body. Anger welled up inside of me as I stepped defiantly toward her. “He is a sadistic monster! He murdered my family!”
“They defied him! Did not give him his due!”
“He is not a Prince anymore! His kingdom is gone!”
Ariana and Cneajna stood in silence, their eyes wide, not sure what to do or say. I could feel my anger spilling out like hot fire and flooding toward Elina. I could feel hers scalding me. We glared at each other.
“He is your Master! And mine!”
“I would rather die!”
“Maybe you should!”
I smirked at her. “Really? What would your dear Master say if you killed me?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You should be grateful for what he has done for you.”
“You mean for making me into a monster?”
“You are a vampire! I remember how exhilarating it felt to fully become a vampire. I remember how I loved the way my body transformed and the power that rose up inside of me. But you… you are weak!”
I tilted my head, arching an eyebrow. “You think me weak?”
“Yes. I watch you. Languishing in your thoughts. Afraid of what you are. Afraid to feed. Afraid to be what you are. Your reticence is weakness and I abhor weakness. Why the Master desires you, such a pathetic weakling, is beyond my comprehension. Not when he has me, a Wallachian Bride that desires nothing more than to fulfill his wishes.” With a faint hiss, she turned away in disgust.
“That is why you are weak,” I said to her back, then sat down on a chair. I began to paw through the jewelry box on the table.
“I will destroy you,” Elina hissed, taking a step toward me.
I ignored her.
Cneajna stared at me, then grabbed hold of Elina, pulling her away into the shadows.
Ariana sat down next to me and grabbed the jewelry box. Humming to herself, she began to hand me large ornate rings studded with fine jewels.
“Elina is not very fond of you,” she said.
“I noticed.” I stared down at my hands. The rings and decorative bracelets reminded me of paintings I had seen of the ladies in the exotic lands of the East. Our gowns were made of fine silks and satins: all had a distinctly foreign look. I smiled wryly. How stupid to think of such trivial things as dresses and jewelry. I had to concentrate on how I was going to escape this hell.
Cneajna returned from her talk with Elina, a tight smile on her face. “How does she look?”
“Oh, so pretty! Just like one of us!” Ariana leapt to her feet and whirled around, her dress flowing out around her pretty little ankles. “Now we can teach her to dance!” Her hips swayed seductively side to side as her arms snaked through the air.
“I do not care to learn,” I responded. Standing up, I moved away from the other Brides. “I do not want to learn anything you have to teach me. I just want to be who I am.”
“You are one of us now,” Cneajna stated.
“True, but I do not have to be like you, do I?”
“There are certain things our husband expects. To dance for him is one of these things.”
Ariana spun about, her arms above her head, her hands tracing intricate designs. “I love to dance!”
“You look so lovely when you do,” Cneajna assured her. She reached out and caught Ariana’s hand as she danced by.
Ariana giggled with delight and embraced her.
I made a face. “Well, then, you can dance and I shall watch.”
“He will not like that,” Elina said from the shadows.
“I do not care what he likes,” I said rather haughtily.
“You should, because if you do not do as he wishes, he will make your life so miserable you will wish you had never been born.” Elina appeared on the edge of the darkness, her eyes glinting with red fire.
“Maybe I already do.” I moved across the room to an old worn divan. Reclining on it, I pointedly ignored Cneajna’s disapproving gaze and Elina’s angry one.
I was growing frustrated within the confines of the castle. The madness was gone, but now I knew the torment of sanity. My former life was a distant beautiful memory and my new life consisted of this damned castle. Now I had to figure out how to survive this place until I found a way to escape. My brief existence thus far as a Vampire was torment after torment. I was obviously a slave to Vlad Dracula and learning the rules of this place was so tiresome. The fact that I had to change out of my real clothes and into an outfit, that in my opinion, made me look like a Middle Eastern whore, was frustratingly stupid. I had escaped one restrictive society to find myself trapped in another. Another of life’s cruel ironies.
The desire to feed was a torment that yielded what little pleasure there was in this world. I considered the gypsy girl to be my first kill even though I had been forced to take my mother’s life. In retrospect, I had enjoyed the hunt and the rush of power the feeding had given me when I had killed the girl who had taken my ring. That, in itself, was somewhat disturbing.
Rolling onto my side, I extended one foot to stare at a sparkling anklet.
Heathens, I thought. They’re such heathens.
Then I began to giggle to myself. And what was I? A vampire! How much more heathen could you get than that?
Bless me Father for I have sinned.
What is your sin, my child?
I’m a vampire whore who drinks the blood of young gypsy women and feels no regret.
Oh, yes, that would be fabulous. I could see the Priest’s flabbergasted expression now. If I ever escaped, I was rather tempted to go and do just that.
I furrowed my brow.
Could I enter a church?
Sighing, I jiggled my foot, listening to the sweet tinkling of the tiny bells on my anklet. So many questions and such a long time to learn the answers.
The door to our chambers swung open. Ilona’s small frame was silhouetted in the doorway.
“The Master desires company tonight within his bed chamber,” Ilona said.
I felt my breath catch in my throat as I swung about on the divan. Ariana had stopped in mid-turn of her dance, and Cneajna sat up a little taller in her chair. Elina merely smiled as she stepped firmly into the firelight.
Ilona ventured a few steps into the chamber, holding her lantern high above her head.
“Who has he called?” Cneajna asked the question softly, almost reluctantly.
“The new Bride.”
They all looked at me sharply.
“Come along,” Ilona said to me.
“Me? Why me? What does he want?”
“Why her?” Elina said at exactly at the same time as my outburst.
Cneajna reached out her hand to me. “You must go to our husband and love him.”
I recoiled from her. “I certainly will not. I do not love him. You go!”
“Mistress, he asked for the new Bride,” Ilona said anxiously.
“Of course she will go.” Cneajna grasped my hand, pulling me off the divan and toward the door. “You must go. It is your duty.”
“Duty be damned! I will not go,” I retorted. “I will not let him touch me ever again!”
Cneajna turned me about, shaking me angrily. “Do not defy me! Do not defy him! You will go!”