Chapter Text
It was evening, near sundown. There was still enough sunlight to see, yet late enough that most were already in their homes, making it perfect for being less conspicuous. Just ahead, the Crimson Palace loomed.
Marina felt nervous, as always, though more so due to her father’s increasing hostility over the last few tendays. Given the abuse she’d suffered her whole life at his hands, that was saying something. She wasn’t certain what had caused his anger to worsen, but she assumed it likely had to do with the ever-constant debts he seemed to accumulate, no matter how many times she’d gotten him out of them. While she didn’t know the true extent of his current debts, it appeared to be dire this time.
As they walked along the cobblestone streets, she tried making conversation, wanting to know where they were headed. But each time, her father remained silent, ignoring her as if he hadn’t heard a word she said.
When they reached the Upper City, following a very familiar path, she became even more puzzled.
What business could he possibly have here? And more importantly, why does he need me? she thought.
It wouldn’t take long for her questions to be answered. Soon enough, they were standing outside the palace gates. When she realized this was their destination, her eyes widened.
“Dad, what are we doing here?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Be quiet, you ungrateful brat,” he spat.
As she gazed at the massive palace, she thought back on all the times she had visited in secret. The last time had been just a tenday ago. She never went inside—especially not with all the warnings—yet she had felt drawn to it ever since her second visit. Whenever she managed to sneak in, she’d make her way into the gardens just to relax and sing. It was a nice, secluded place to get away from her father and all the other worries of the world.
The first time she visited was when she was a little girl. She remembered how scared she was when a servant caught her. Instead of punishing her, the servant had simply let her go, telling her to never come back. She stayed away for some time, fearing what would happen if she were found again.
But then, one night, her father threw her out of the house and into the cold. Being just six years old and having nowhere else to go, she walked the empty streets until she was at the front gates of the palace. On one hand, she was terrified of being caught sneaking in again, but on the other hand, being on the streets in the Lower City at night was dangerous for anyone, let alone a child. She figured the palace gardens would be safer, as the rumors kept most people from going near the place.
Seeing no servants around, she climbed the gates and went into the gardens. She found a bench and soon lay down, going into trance not long after. When she woke up four hours later, she noticed a blanket had been put on her. Perhaps one of the servants had taken pity on her.
Since the sun still hadn’t risen, she stayed on the bench a while longer, wrapping the blanket tightly around her and singing to herself. The blanket had a nice, comforting scent of bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy—not that she’d be able to recognize the names of what she smelled. Still, the fragrance lingered with her as the night slowly faded, bringing with it a strange, wistful sense of nostalgia.
When the sun started to rise, she folded the blanket neatly and placed it on the bench. Reluctantly, she made her way back home, knowing a beating was in store for being out so late, even if it wasn’t her fault.
She was torn from her thoughts when a servant appeared. He was a human man who looked to be in his twenties.
“Do you have an appointment, saer?” he addressed her father.
“Yes, I have business with Lord Ancunín. He is expecting me,” her father said respectfully, a major difference from how he had treated her moments ago.
“Name?” he asked, almost impatiently.
“Starameríl. Joseph Starameríl,” her father responded.
The servant looked to Marina, a hint of recognition in his eyes. “And who is the miss?”
“My daughter, Marina.”
The servant looked at her a moment longer, then back at him. “Very well. Please follow me.”
Marina hesitated, her nerves spiking. After two and a half decades of sneaking around on the grounds, she was finally about to set foot inside.
Her father noticed her hesitation. “Don’t you dare embarrass me.” He grabbed her arm hard and pulled her along. “Move.”
He let go once inside, the doors ominously sealing on their own.
A few candelabras were lit, providing just enough light to avoid tripping, but not enough to truly take in the details—at least not for anyone without darkvision, which she conveniently had. The servant picked one up from a nearby table, gesturing for them to follow.
As they walked the halls, she recalled the tales that had been told of the master of this palace. He was said to have been an evil and cold-hearted man. Despite his cruelty, he was exceptionally beautiful and charming. Some speculated that he was a vampire, and based on what she had read about them, she believed he was potentially a dhampir, since others had claimed to have seen him in broad daylight plenty of times and had witnessed him eating solid food with no issue.
He’d hosted countless extravagant parties with both commoners and the elite in attendance. Then, one day, he simply stopped. He shut everyone out, except for a few select servants. Now he spent his days inside the grand palace, never daring to venture outside. Or so the legend said. Marina was never one to make assumptions based on rumors.
Whatever the truth was, she had always been warned to stay away as a child… not that she listened, of course. After all, the reason she had visited the palace in the first place was to catch a glimpse of the rumored vampire lord, having been fascinated by vampires from a very young age. Admittedly, it was foolish, but apart from that first time, no one had ever tried to make her leave when she visited. In fact, as she grew older, there was even one servant—an elven man named Dorian—who would occasionally converse with her in a friendly manner and teach her how to perfect her singing. All of that, in her mind, discredited much of that gossip.
Further into the palace, the halls were properly lit with more candelabras, and there were chandeliers on the ceiling, allowing the servant to set down the one he carried.
The walls were painted crimson with streaks of gold and silver. The floors were mostly hardwood, the color a medium brown and polished, but some parts were black marble. There was some red carpeting and throw rugs too. It was strange because everything looked new, like it had hardly been used.
Did they do some remodeling recently? Maybe that’s why there are no portraits on the walls, she thought to herself.
They passed various pieces of furniture—chairs, couches, tables—all either black, red, dark brown, or a mixture of black and crimson. There were busts and statues of what looked to be prominent figures in history, but she didn’t recognize them. Something she noticed was how many windows there were, but most were covered by crimson curtains with gold or silver sashes, depending on the corridor.
This isn’t that bad so far. A bit of a gothic style… I like it.
They walked by a lounge. She glanced briefly, making sure not to linger too long.
He really seems to be fond of black and red, just like me. Is that why this is known as the Crimson Palace? Or because he’s a vampire, as the rumors suggest… Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
Piano music could be heard from one of the rooms ahead. It was a haunting, dark melody. As she listened more closely, the notes sounded sorrowful, heartbroken even, as if the pianist were playing from a place of pain.
Before she could fully appreciate the tune, it stopped abruptly. Moments later, when they passed by the room the music had come from, no one was there. All she could see was a lonely piano in the middle of the room. The sight caused a chill to run down her spine.
What?! But there’s no other exit, so where could they have gone? There’s no way I imagined that! Is this place haunted?!
After some more walking, they finally made it to their destination. The servant turned around to address them both.
“Please wait here a moment, saer, my lady. I will inform Lord Ancunín of your arrival.”
My lady? That’s a first.
As soon as the servant left through a set of double doors, her father gave an impatient huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Looking at her father, she contemplated asking him again why they were here but decided against it. He looked too annoyed at the moment, which told her that no good would come from trying to get answers right now.
While waiting, the anticipation got to her, and her heart started to race.
I can’t believe I’m really here inside the palace, about to see the man from all those stories. I wonder if he’s as cruel as people say. Or worse… I really hope he’s not worse. Please don’t let him be worse.
“Lord Ancunín will see you now,” she heard the servant say, snapping her from her thoughts.
The servant held an arm out, gesturing for them to enter the room he had just come from. Her father went in first, and she followed right behind, the servant coming in last and closing the doors.
The room was massive and appeared to be some kind of ballroom. The hardwood floors were a rich cherry oak. A grand, golden, multi-tiered chandelier full of sparkling crystals hung from the center of the ceiling. At the far end of the room, a dais stood against the wall, directly opposite the entrance. The center of the dais contained a red satin throne with silver trim, upon which rested a strikingly beautiful high elven man with silvery-white curls and pale skin. He was no doubt of moon elf descent like her.
As they got closer, she became unsettled when she noticed that his crimson eyes were fixed directly on her, yet she couldn’t look away. What stood out most to her, however, was the silver mask covering almost the entire right side of his face, leaving only part of his chin and his lips fully uncovered. More interestingly, there appeared to be black lines and small cracks on his skin in the small areas where the right side was exposed, continuing down along his neck where his collar didn’t reach.
His eyes are red, so maybe he really is a vampire. Or part drow. Although his skin is so light.
Once they had reached the foot of the dais, they paused, waiting to be addressed.
“My lord,” the servant started, “Saer Joseph and his daughter, Lady Marina.”
Lord Ancunín gave a nod and waved the man off. The servant bowed and went off to the side, out of the way but still close by if needed.
The masked elf looked to Joseph. “Well, get on with it. Why is it you sought an audience with me?” His voice was a mixture of boredom and impatience, with a faint edge of malice.
“Of course, Lord Ancunín,” Joseph said, a nervous lilt in his tone. “You see, I made some bad, er… investments, and I found myself in a state of debt that I cannot easily recover from. So, I was ho—”
“And why is that any concern of mine?” he cut him off.
Joseph was caught off guard by Ancunín’s flippant attitude. “Well, my lord, I was hoping we could make a deal.”
That got a laugh out of the pale elf, his sharp teeth on full display.
Fangs? Okay, he’s definitely a vampire.
“Like you have anything of value to offer me,” he drawled, his tone full of condescension. “You’re from the Lower City, are you not?”
“Yes, I am,” Joseph confirmed, trying hard to restrain his anger at being talked down to like this. “But I do have something of great value to offer.”
“Oh?” Lord Ancunín asked mockingly, his visible eyebrow raised. “And what, pray tell, would that be?”
What’s he talking about? He doesn’t have anything to offer that I know about. Unless… Her eyes widened as it dawned on her. No, he wouldn’t.
To her horror, her father revealed what she had just figured out. “My daughter.”
Her eyes were still wide in shock, though this time her mouth hung slightly open. She couldn’t yet speak. Thoughts swarmed her mind like mad. In the meantime, Lord Ancunín’s smirk dropped, his expression turning serious.
“What?” he asked, his voice coming out sharp.
“My daughter. If you agree to erase my debts, I will give you my daughter in exchange.”
Her shock began to turn to anger. He’s seriously trying to sell me right now? This piece of shit is really offering me up like I’m nothing! Like I have no other value to him!
The pale elf stared at Joseph in silence for a moment. “Why?” he asked in a low voice, the single word drawn out as if in disbelief.
Joseph hesitated. “I’m sorry, my lord?”
Lord Ancunín’s jaw ticked. “You would sell me your own daughter, surely knowing the rumors surrounding me and my palace, all to settle some debts?”
Joseph scoffed with a laugh. “Most of the rumors are clearly hogwash, my lord. Some claim you’re a day-walking vampire who can consume solid food. As if such a thing exists.”
Marina cringed in second-hand embarrassment. Her father had never cared to study vampire lore like she had, and whenever she brought it up, he’d dismiss most of it as fiction. But even if she hadn’t learned about dhampirs, the pale complexion, red eyes, fangs, and the bite marks on his neck that became visible whenever his collar shifted were all dead giveaways.
“Only one rumor has any merit,” Joseph went on. “You’ve been alone for a long time, correct? Surely you’d appreciate some company. For a lord of your stature, the price to purchase her would be pocket change.”
Marina thought her mind was playing tricks on her, because as her father spoke, she could’ve sworn that the few visible lines on Lord Ancunín looked like they were spreading like vines along his forehead and chin. He closed his eyes and clutched the armrest, taking a deep breath.
When he opened them again, he asked, “How much do you owe?”
“Uh, a-around sixty thousand gold pieces, m-my lord,” Joseph stuttered out the response, suddenly unnerved by what he had just witnessed.
She was completely dumbfounded. Sixty thousand! What did he do to acquire such a debt?!
“Tell me,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “Why would your daughter possibly be worth the amount of your debts?”
“Certainly, my lord.” Joseph was somewhat eased by the reaction, taking it as interest. He quickly started to list off her qualities as if she were a show pony.
“As you can see, she’s a high elf of exceptional beauty. She’s well-mannered, obedient, can cook, clean, and tend to any household task, really. She’s a talented singer, dancer, and musician—the piano and violin being her instruments of choice. And what’s more, she just turned thirty, a perfect age if you want someone youthful yet old enough to be sophisticated. But most importantly,” he grinned, ready to lay out what he believed to be his main selling point, “she’s still pure. Completely untainted, as she has yet to lie with another.”
“Dad!” She couldn’t stay silent any longer. Each word out of his mouth made her anger rise and her face redden in embarrassment, but that last part was just plain sick. “How dare you! As if you know anything about my love life!”
Her father looked back at her, fury in his own eyes at being called out like that. He opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, Lord Ancunín spoke up.
“Is it true?” His voice was low, measured, but carried across the room all the same.
Her and her father’s attention both snapped back to the masked elf.
“Is what true, my lord?” she asked, swallowing sharply as she addressed him for the first time.
His gaze held hers as he asked, “Have you not been with another?”
She felt her face redden further. “I—…” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched her fists to steady herself. When she opened them, she replied softly, “It’s true. I haven’t been with anyone intimately.”
“See? As I said, pure as can be,” her father quickly chimed in. “We may live in the Lower City, but I assure you, my lord, she’s of good breeding. She could bear you strong, healthy children. You’d have a suitable heir in no time.”
She gritted her teeth, seething. “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower. You’re seriously trying to sell me off to settle your debts?” she scoffed. “I may be your daughter by blood, but I am not your property, and you are no father of mine. And while there is a lot that I can put up with, there is no way in hells that I’m ever going to bear children for anyone! I’d rather die than let it come to that.”
“Why, you ungrateful, wretched child!” her father spat. “After all I’ve done for you, you’re going to talk back and embarrass me?”
She let out a humorless laugh. “After all you’ve done for me? How many times did I have to run myself ragged—performing at the Elf Song or picking up a bunch of extra cooking shifts—just to scrape together the funds to pay off your debts?” She threw her hands up in disbelief. “You already take all the coin I earn, yet even that isn’t enough for you anymore?”
Her father didn’t speak. Instead, he lunged, grabbing a fistful of her long black hair and yanking hard enough to make her yelp in pain. Just as he raised his other hand to strike her, in a blur of motion, Lord Ancunín was on him.
“Let go of the girl. Now,” he growled, baring his fangs.
Black tendrils began to crawl along his skin from beneath the mask and the collar of his shirt. He squeezed Joseph’s raised hand hard, threatening to break it at a moment’s notice.
Joseph flinched at Ancunín’s frightening tone and quickly released his hold on Marina’s hair. She immediately backed away, rubbing the sore spot on her head as she watched the scene in front of her.
“Let me make this perfectly clear.” His tone was dangerously low as he held her father’s wrist tightly. “She may be your daughter, but as of now, she’s a guest of mine. If you try to touch her again, you will not like what I do. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, my lord,” her father responded fearfully. “I understand. It will not happen again.”
The masked elf stared into the man’s eyes, letting the tension linger a moment longer. Satisfied, he flung Joseph’s arm away, then stepped in front of Marina.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice laced with unexpected concern.
“Huh?” She was caught off guard by the question. No one had ever cared before when they saw her father hurt her. “Oh, um, I’m fine. It’s not that bad. Just a little sore.”
“Let me see,” he said, more of a command than a suggestion.
Before she could respond, his hands were already threading through her soft, thick curls, tilting her head down so he could better see. She stilled at the sudden contact, since she hated being touched by strangers, yet the feel of his hands made her relax as a strange sense of contentment washed over her.
His touch was electric, sending a shiver through her that she couldn’t suppress, and her heart thrummed wildly in her chest. Now that he was this close, she noticed a pleasant scent.
Wait, I know this smell. She subtly took a more deliberate sniff. I guess he and Dorian wear the same perfume.
She wondered if all of his servants and staff wore the same scent, since the palace had a lingering aroma vaguely attributable to this one. So far, however, she hadn’t been close enough to catch whether the one who led them in was wearing it.
“It doesn’t look like any hair was ripped out,” he murmured, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Um, yes. Thank you for your concern, my lord. But as I said, I’m fine. Truly.”
But he didn’t release her yet. Instead, he tilted her head up, crimson eyes meeting blue flecked with gold. As she looked into his piercing gaze, she felt herself drawn in again.
His eyes flicked over her face, silently taking in her features. Finally, he gave a small nod and carefully let her go, turning to walk back to the dais.
“So,” he began, settling back into the throne with casual grace. “Where were we? Ah, yes—you, the pathetic excuse of a father that you are, were trying to talk me into buying your daughter.” He gave Joseph a pointed look.
Silence lingered, heavy and uncomfortable, as Lord Ancunín waited for him to speak. Joseph had no choice but to swallow his pride.
“Yes, my lord. As I was saying, my daughter—”
“Spare your breath. This conversation is already beneath me,” the pale elf cut him off. “Did you truly think I’d be interested in your little proposal? Need I remind you that I’m the richest and most powerful lord in Baldur’s Gate? I could have anyone I please, just like that.” He snapped his fingers in demonstration. “Your daughter may have a lovely list of qualities, but there are hundreds of noble-borns with the same skill set, yet I have no need for them. What makes you think she would be any different from the rest?”
Joseph opened his mouth but hesitated when he couldn’t come up with a proper rebuttal. “I assure you, my lord, she’s worth more than the rest. She may be a little hotheaded right now, given the circumstances, but don’t let that fool you. She’s loyal, quiet, and eager to please. She’ll do anything you ask.” He gave Marina a sharp look. “Isn’t that right? Go on, tell him.”
“No, I will not,” she replied, staring back in defiance. “For years, I’ve gotten you out of plenty of debts, but this is where I draw the line. If you want them wiped away, go sell yourself, but leave me out of it, because I’m done with you.”
Joseph shook with fury, his face turning red and veins bulging. “You little—”
Lord Ancunín’s approving laugh rang out, silencing whatever Joseph was about to say. “Well, you heard her. She’s done with you.” A slow, sharp smile curved his lips. “And so am I.”
“B-but my lord, please! There must be something I can say to convince you. Please reconsider!” Joseph begged, desperation in his eyes.
The masked elf examined his nails, humming as if in contemplation. “No,” he said finally, glancing at Joseph. “I don’t think I will.”
The desperation suddenly turned to fury. “You think you’re better than me? I’ve heard the rumors about what you are!”
“Oh? And just what exactly do you think I am?” he asked mockingly, a dangerous smile gracing his face.
“You act all powerful, but the reality is that you’re just a recluse—too afraid to go out into the world,” Joseph snapped back, trying to wound his pride. “You claim there are no noble-borns here only because you don’t wish there to be, but I’ll bet the real reason is that no one wants you once they see whatever’s hiding under that mask. Must be something truly grotesque.”
Lord Ancunín’s expression darkened in an instant. “Careful,” he warned, rising from his throne. Black veins began to creep further along his skin.
He stepped down from the dais and closed the distance between them until he was face-to-face with Joseph. “You’re very close to seeing what I do to those who displease me.”
Her father looked ready to say something else, but thought better of it.
“Now get out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you live.” He signaled to the servant. “Cedric, please see to it that our guest is properly escorted out.”
Marina had been silently watching it all unfold, thankful that someone had finally put her father in his place. She stared at him in intrigue. By now, she knew this was no trick of the light. The veins had stretched farther along his face and neck than where they had been when they first entered the room.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, bowing her head. “I apologize on my father’s behalf.”
Straightening up, she added, “Have a good day,” then turned to leave, following her father and Cedric.
Before she could take more than a few steps, Lord Ancunín called out. “You mistake me, darling. I told your father to leave, but I haven’t dismissed you.”
Taken aback, she turned around. “Excuse me, my lord?” she asked, her voice polite. “What more could you need from me?”
Her father stopped as well, turning back to see what the holdup was.
The pale elf smiled as he walked up to her. “I may have declined your father’s offer, but…” He tilted his head slightly, letting the tension rise as his crimson eyes lingered on her. “I think I’ll keep you here all the same.”
Her eyes widened. “W-what?”
“Like hells you will!” her father shouted, rushing back toward them. “Not without agreeing to clear my debts!”
The servant tried to restrain him, but Joseph shrugged him off. “Listen here, Ancunín. You may be a lord, but she’s my daughter. I get the final say in what happens to her, and if you won’t accept my offer, then I’ll find someone who will.” He grabbed her arm, dragging her with him.
“No! Get off me!” she yelled, trying to wrench herself free.
“Stop fighting me, you stupid girl,” he spat, struggling to pull her along.
“Enough!” Lord Ancunín’s voice cut through the air, freezing her father in his tracks. The silence that followed was heavy, the tension thick.
“Very well, Joseph.” He smiled faintly, though it never reached his eyes. “I accept your offer.”
Joseph exhaled in visible relief, releasing Marina’s arm as he turned back toward the masked elf. “Glad you’re seeing reason, my lord. I swear, you won’t re—”
Ancunín raised a hand, silencing him. “Your debts will be gone,” he said, his steps slow and soundless against the wooden floor, “because you will be.”
He stopped directly in front of her father, his gaze murderous. “Permanently.”
Before Joseph could react, Lord Ancunín’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground. The black tendrils had spread farther across the left side of his face and neck, only this time, cracks began to form along with it.
“Any last words?” he snarled.
Unable to speak with the hand wrapped tightly around his windpipe, Joseph could only make choked, rasping noises as he kicked wildly.
“I thought not,” Ancunín sneered, ready to end the pitiful man.
“Wait!” Marina implored. “Don’t kill him.”
Without looking at her, the masked elf growled, “After everything, you truly wish me to spare his miserable life, knowing he wouldn’t offer you the same courtesy?”
“Please,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm.
He turned his head, his crimson eyes meeting hers. For a moment, neither moved. The room was silent except for Joseph’s continued thrashing.
The pale elf’s gaze lingered, as though debating whether he’d listen to her. Then he drew in a slow, deliberate breath. Reluctantly, he released her father.
Joseph doubled over, clutching his bruised throat as he gasped and choked.
“You owe your wretched life to your daughter. Add that to your tally of debts,” Lord Ancunín said, looking down at the man. “Offer your thanks, and then get the hells out of my palace if you know what’s good for you.”
Joseph coughed harshly, struggling to draw breath. “Marina… thank you.” His voice rasped, torn between anger and forced gratitude as he tried to stand up straight. “I knew I raised you right.”
“Don’t get carried away,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t do it to save you. I just didn’t want you to have a quick death.” She drew in a deep breath, bitterness filling her voice. “After everything you’ve ever done to me, I want you to suffer. Without me, you’ll be penniless, on the streets, and hiding until the day your creditors find you.”
Her father’s expression soured further, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep control of his anger. Knowing he couldn’t go up against Lord Ancunín, he had no choice but to keep his words to himself.
Cedric returned to escort him out. “This way, saer.”
Joseph cast one last look at the two of them, muttered something under his breath, then shook his head and followed the man out.
When the doors closed, the silence that followed felt deafening. A sense of relief filled her now that her father was gone, yet it was mixed with unease as she still had no idea what the masked lord had planned for her. As she turned toward him, her gaze drifted to his face and neck, noting that the dark tendrils and cracks now covered a large portion of the area.
It seems to be reactive to his anger. It doesn’t look like he’s doing it on purpose. On the bright side, at least I’ll know when he’s displeased… I think.
“Well, as vile as that so-called father of yours is, I can’t say that wasn’t somewhat entertaining.” He flashed her a fanged smile.
“My lord,” she began carefully, “you declined my father’s offer, but said that you would be keeping me regardless. Did you mean that in jest, or were you being earnest?”
“Oh, I meant it. Every. Word.” His eyes gleamed with amusement, clearly enjoying how anxious she was.
Her pulse started to quicken. “I don’t understand. You said yourself, there are hundreds of noble-borns who can do what I can. There’s no reason to keep me here when you could have them.”
He looked away, crossing one arm over his chest while resting the other atop it, his hand rising to stroke his chin. “Hmm. Yes, I did say that. But…” His crimson gaze flicked back to her, a sharp smirk curving his lips. “I think I’d rather have you.”
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. When her voice came, it was firm despite her nerves. “As I told my father, I’m not having kids for anyone. Ever. That includes you, my lord.”
The pale elf chuckled at her candor. “My dear, I don’t want children either. I value my time and freedom far too much to waste it on such annoying little creatures.”
“Then why?” She furrowed her brows. “I still don’t understand.”
“Your father mistreated you often, did he not?” he asked, waving his hand in a casual flourish.
When she nodded, he continued, “Instead of cowering in silence and allowing yourself to be sold like cattle, you stood up to your father, and in doing so, you stood up to me, which was no small feat.” There was a short silence as he appraised her. “You have some fight in you. And I like it.”
Cautiously, she asked, “What if I say no?”
“And why would you want to do that? You have nowhere else to go, do you?” He raised a brow. “You haven’t a copper to your name—given that your father took all the coin you made—and I’ve no intention of letting you return to a man so eager to sell his own kin. If you’re worried I’ll take advantage of you, fear not. Despite the stories you’ve likely heard, I’m not that kind of monster.”
He was right, and she knew it. She couldn’t go back to her father. Otherwise, he’d try to sell her again. She could take her chances on the streets until she could come up with enough gold for a permanent place to stay, but who knew how long that would be? Besides, the Lower City wasn’t safe at night. Still, she wanted to voice what was on her mind before making any final decision.
“You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. Before he could respond, she added, “It’s said that you can go out in the sun and aren’t limited to just blood. Are you a dhampir?”
He laughed, clearly appreciating her boldness. “No, my dear. I’m not a dhampir. I’m a true vampire, but let’s just say I have… ascended above your standard kind. I have all the powers, yet none of the afflictions.” He paused deliberately, purring the last sentence. “Maybe I’ll tell you all about it someday.”
Is he flirting with me? she wondered.
“That would be nice,” she said as a light blush spread across her cheeks.
He tilted his head, studying her expression. “I must say, I’m rather surprised. Most people aren’t so cordial when face-to-face with a vampire—let alone one surrounded by such rumors as I am. They speculate, of course, but it’s quite different when the truth is confirmed. Usually, they either run away screaming or try to stake me.”
She drew in a steadying breath, meeting his crimson gaze. “I prefer to judge people based on who they are, not what they are, and certainly not by gossip.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done so already. And if I’m wrong, then there’s not much I can do anyway.”
For a moment, silence hung between them. The corners of his mouth curved faintly, his eyes narrowing with something between amusement and intrigue. “How pragmatic of you, darling.”
“You’re right, of course,” he drawled. “If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
She hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. “So, if I stay, then what will you have me do? What would be expected of me?”
“I haven’t yet decided. There are already servants who handle all the household tasks.” He paused, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. “Hm. Let’s see… how about entertainment?” His lips curved faintly. “Your father mentioned you could sing and play instruments, and I do rather enjoy listening when I’m not performing myself. Lucky for you, I own both your instruments of choice.”
“What about when I’m not singing or playing?” she asked softly, her brows knitting together. “Is there anything else you’ll have me do?”
“Companionship, obviously. Whatever else? It gets awfully lonely in such a grand palace, and the servants seem allergic to having any interesting conversations,” he drawled.
“So, music and conversation. That doesn’t sound so bad,” she murmured, realizing she didn’t entirely mind the thought.
“Exactly. I knew you’d come around, darling.” His smirk deepened, eyes flicking briefly over her before returning to her face. “Although, perhaps we could add one more expectation to the arrangement.”
“What kind of expectation?” she asked, her voice cautious, though steady.
“Oh, nothing big or terrible,” he said smoothly. “But given what I am, how about you provide me with your blood whenever I’m in the mood to feed? It wouldn’t be often, mind you. I can survive on solid food just fine.”
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a purr. “What do you say, darling? Do we have a deal?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” she asked.
“That depends,” he replied, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “If you’re referring to me drinking your blood—you do. I won’t force that upon you without your consent. But if you’re asking if you have a say in staying…” The edges of his lips curled into a grin. “Not really, no. Though it’s much better if you agree.”
So, he won’t force himself on me and won’t demand my blood, even though nothing is stopping him. He seems to value consent, at least—well, apart from not letting me leave. She pondered the details of the agreement. Although something tells me he wouldn’t actually do anything if I persisted. Still, it’s better to not poke the bear… or the vampire, in this case.
A faint smile tugged at her lips at her internal joke. “Okay, then. I suppose it’s not such a terrible arrangement, all things considered.”
“Wonderful.” His voice softened, rich with satisfaction. “I thought you’d see it my way.”
