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Month: Tleusp-18th—Year: 1511 AF
DYMITRI SAT IN HIS study, watching as his victim squirmed at his feet. The cold stone covered in feces, bile and dried blood. The walls stained with torn skin, and decorated with chains, shackles and spikes. Dymitri smelled the rotting corpses beside the man, their bile concentrated, the mold and mildew barely masking the stench of death—sour and bittersweet. His eyes were unfeeling, numb to the full stench and horrors before him. Jeremiah cried, wanting to beg, unable to, his jaw mutilated, tongue pulled from through his teeth. The tears stained his cheeks, pleading with his eyes, hoping the prince would show mercy.
Standing, he grabbed the man lifting him onto a molding wooden table, with metal razors facing upwards, no light shined through, as Dymitri turned the contraption, feeling the blood spay everywhere. Tasting the sour bitterness, he smirked, enjoying the life drain from the man’s eyes.
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Alexander sat in his room, watching the clock tick, the hands moving together, slowly. His room was dark, the moon half full, he had just sent his servants away, readying himself for bed. His thoughts on how long he had been in Casai; three months, and unexpectedly he had been beguiled by their princess and this city’s social injustice and prejudice of their silver citizens. His eyes found the leather book, hidden beneath his belongs, a book of importance to help his succession grow. He laid naked, covered in silk sheets, his hair dangled down his shoulders. His chamber doors cracked open, he lifted himself onto his elbows, examining the room. The moonlight shined for a moment. Standing there in nothing but a white chemise, his eyes meeting Rena’s. She walked over to him, sitting against his hips, her soft lips pressing his. His hands found her back; turning her over, his body over hers. His nose brushing hers, as he pressed himself closer to her, he heard her moan softly in his ears, his hands lifting her skirts, a rush filling him, as he continued to kiss her, and take in her scent and body.
The moonlight shined through the sheer curtains. His arms wrapped tightly around her, her hand placed gently on his chest. He played with her curls, his heartbeat unrecognizable; This woman, what has she done to me in such a short time? Alexander thought, matching her breathing. He turned over, facing Rena. Her face soft, she slept peacefully beside him. He felt himself smile true, his self-loathing gone, in these moments beside her. “Rena, wake up.” He kissed her eye, his hair tickling her awake. A jolt of happiness shot through his body as her eyes opened up to him and him alone. He placed his hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently against her skin.
“Yes, Alex?” She cooed, cuddling up close to him.
“Do you love me?” He found himself asking, afraid of the answer. She waited a moment before she answered. Sitting up, her back turned toward him. He closed his eyes pretending she would vanish. A dream he could never have obtained. “Answer not, I cannot bare to hear you tell me no.” He continued, not letting her speak.
“I do love you, Alexander. And it will break my heart to part with you when you sail back to Kindred.” She spoke honestly, turning her head towards him.
“We do not have to part.” He stood up, taking her hand in his. The autumn air brisk as the curtains gently swayed. “I cannot be without you, now that I have had you. I want no other to gaze upon you like I do. You are mine.”
“My father won’t break my engagement to Trinity, you know this.” Rena shook her head, putting on her chemise dress.
“He does not have too. Won’t you come with me to Kindred and rule with me as queen?” He stated, his words speaking betrayal. “I sail in two weeks’ time, and I want you there beside me when I enter my kingdom.” His words echoed in her head. Standing above her, his emerald eyes intense as he watched her.
“Promise me, Morena. You will come.” Her blue eyes sparkled, she said nothing, torn between her loyalty to her kingdom and the man that has captured her heart so suddenly. The room fell silent as they watched each other. She moved back, he stepped forward, corning her against the door. “Do you promise?” His lips brushed hers, she closed her eyes.
“To be mine, and only mine.” He was not asking, she complied, letting him lift her into his strong arms and lay her gently on his bed.
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Opening the chamber doors quietly, the halls were vacant, nobles sent back home to their mansions and villas, Rena searched the hall before she left his room. His breath steady while he slept peacefully. She smiled, stepping out onto the cold marble floor. Making her way to her room, she hid against the walls, the passerby took no notice of her. Her breath rapid as she made it into her chamber, she closed the door behind her, a giggle escaping her mouth.
“Is something funny, my Pereeneuss?” His voice like a snake, Drake emerged from the corners of her room. She stopped, holding her breath, his ember eyes glowing, his fangs white, and sharp. He was quick behind her, his hand around her neck.
“You smell like him.” He hissed, tossing her onto her feathered bed.
“Counceelmain, what are you doing in my room at this hour?” She questioned, standing quickly, his body over hers in a flash of a second, his thin lips crushing down on hers. She struggled against him, his hands locking her into place, his grip constricted, he smelled of liquor and iron, the salt from his tongue lingered in her mouth. She tried to move her lips away from his. A sudden shock being sent down her entire body, she froze, like a spider bite, his fangs sank deep into her neck. The pain was sharp and quick, she numbed herself, controlling her emotions. A black smog crept from the puncture marks, pushing his fangs out of her skin.
He looked at her, shocked by her sudden power. Backing away, he stumbled to the ground knocking over her glass trinkets, and bottle of red wine. Shattering, the red stained her rugs, and marble stone floor. She placed her hand on her neck, using her magic to mend the wound.
“I promise to not say a word of this intrusion.” She said quietly, holding her anger and keeping her composure. “Leave my presence now, before I change my mind.” She hissed, sending a wave of purple gas towards the vampyre. Watching him vanish from sight, she relaxed, feeling her hands shaking and anger swell within her heart. Focusing, and forcing her powers back within her.
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Month: Tleusp-19th—Year: 1511 AF
The sun rose late, the seahawks called to one another, waking the servants and palace together. Victoria walked through the halls, her head held high, and her back straight. Her heels echoing against the marble. The servants diligently at work, she continued down to her new queen’s rooms. Queen Victoria Solomere-Darkstorm. Her smirk widened, no one could question her ruthless rule. The servant’s coward before her.
She sat in her quarters, on the balcony enjoying the autumn leaves fall, death in its natural state. Her manservant bowed, escorting her guest through the glass doors. “My queen, the duchess Liliana Blackmond has arrived.” The old man bowed, closing the glass doors behind him.
“My Queen.” Liliana curtsied, her ash blond hair braided neatly in a circle crown.
“Come, cousin, sit with me.” She smiled. Complying with her queen, Liliana sat across from her, watching carefully of her movements, she felt something was off with her cousin, she had not spoken to her son, prince Dymitri, and he was to depart for Aieulle in this night.
“Victoria, what is the matter, tell me true.” she asked, her eyes firm, Victoria’s narrowed, a twitch of her lips.
“Nothing you need worry yourself with, I promise. Now, tell me, what of the new gown that I have provided you for my son’s departure? You will join, won’t you?” She purred, a light coming back to her eye.
“Of course, I will be there for his departure; the dress is beautiful, I could commission nothing more gorgeous.” She smiled, taking a sip of her tea, the hint of blood circling the top.
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The sky was grey, the orange and red leaves crumbling and falling into large piles of dried leaves. The first drops of rain began to hit the window seal of Rena’s room, her eyes hollow, she felt the sting of the tears, holding them back she stood up. She had to dress and appear before her subjects, for her brother’s departure to his new lands and mansions. Lucille appeared before her, his eyes blackened from lack of sleep and concern, his cheeks sunken.
“Lucille?” she asked he shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.
“Nothing, come, you are expected in your family colors.” He informed, laying out a beautiful royal blue and gold satin dress, the neck decorated in pearls, sapphires and rubies. She gazed up at him, a smirk on her lips.
“I wonder how many more dresses papa will have made for me now that he is king.” She joked, allowing her butler to dress her appropriately. Amelia had entered, he began to tie her corset.
“Really, Lucille? She isn’t fully dressed yet?” Amelia giggled, shoving the silver away from the girl. He scowled, his eyes narrowing at Amelia, who in a few quick strokes finished Rena’s makeup and hair. “There, easy.” She teased, fixing the gown before they helped her into her heels.
They escorted the princess down the hall and into the throne room where her father and stepmother sat waiting hand in hand. She curtsied, her ringlets falling over her shoulder, her blue eyes matched her fathers, it sent a chilling sense through Victoria, she shook off the fear. Sebastian stood from his seat, his arms opened wide, he embraced his daughter. His black gloved hands cupping her cheeks.
“My d’eraim, my beautiful daughter.” He kissed her cheeks.
“Your Highness.” She replied, kissing his cheeks in return. He took her hand in his, leading her up the grand staircase towards her matching throne, on his right side. Sitting beside him, she felt her stepmother’s eyes watching her closely. The throne room began to fill with crowds, each seat being taken up quickly.
The horns played loudly, the announcer cleared his throat, “Welcoming his young highness, Prince Dymitri Lir Darkstorm.” The flags of the royal sigil moving with grace as Dymitri entered the throne room, dressed in royal blue silk, decorated in gold lace and embroidery. He bowed, his black hair slicked back, and his eyes filled with excitement for his new duties.
The chandeliers were glittering with fairy light, as he stepped toward his father, bending the knee. Sebastian draped his son in a long blue and gold cape. “I, Sebastian Alistair Darkstorm, name you Dymitri Lir Darkstorm, grand duke of Aiuelle, protector in my name.” His authoritative voice resonating within the whole room.
“I, Dymitri, promise to uphold our laws, and protect our citizens in the name of our true king, Sebastian Darkstorm.” He responded, standing straight, his arms opened wide. The twinkle of power began to seep into him.