We were now standing before an estate. A compound estate that made me think I had time travelled or perhaps that was the exhaustion getting to me, or maybe I had really time travelled to the sixteenth century because at this point, who the fuck knows?

What I did know was that I needed a way to forget what was happening. Every sharp glance Vlad would shoot at me stung, his watchful eyes glowing whenever I did something other than what he said. I just could not face him, I couldn't face reality, and I definitely couldn't face the fact that both him and reality existed for the moment.

Thus, I decided to look at the scenery around me to distract myself like a kid going to the principal's office. Cognitive dissonance, am I right? I noticed that out of all the sightseeing I'd seen in my two days in Romania, this home was by far the most interesting and much more tasteful, materialistically speaking. Ogling the architecture as we walked through the ornately gated arch made me also wonder how this place didn't end up being in magazines. Hell, this place could become an international wonder with all its glory.

Vampire infestation, mofo!

What are tourists even going to do here? Become vampire food? Die?

Exactly! There's jumping off a cliff, and then there's visiting a vampire's house! An adrenaline junkie's goddamn paradise.

I smiled a little at the thought.

Why would the government want to make a killing machine's home a tourist attraction? Do they even know there's a vampire living in their country?

The building we were walking towards was a mix between a Parliament House and a medieval château. The fat spires on the roof and ledges with sculptures of gargoyles resting at their edge beside the countless windows could pass off for an old-timey cathedral, yet the supporting features such as the buttresses or the sturdy brick walls reminded one of the modern day advancements humanity made, in a patronizing way of course. The star of this showpiece was obviously meant to be the traditional and classic detailing, the contemporary base was only there to deceive the beholder to think this was just an old building that was inhabited by anything more than demons.

I could climb most of that... I thought, examining the outlandish carvings on most of the building going towards the spire from all different walls. I always thought that classical structures in old stories and books were just ladders for thieves  and trespassers to come in any time they wanted. I really wanted to see a thief climb a skyscraper, though.

I internally laughed at my inner demon for even thinking about escaping on an empty stomach and tired feet.

I was going to hoard all the free food I could find, since my presence here was against my will, all rules of propriety were moot. If I was going to be imprisoned, then I could rest up and chill out. If anyone was looking for a fight, then perfect! I could blow off some steam.

"Drăga!" Vlad hissed and grabbed my shoulder to halt my stride. I snapped back to reality, and reality was staring back at me as a giant stone pillar inches away from my nose, which had I kept walking in the pace I was, would've broken it.

My eyes were widened, and I'd forgotten his hand on me. That was, until he hooked his arm around me like I was his best bud. I started squirming and managing to free one arm then started swatting at his.

"Stop touching me!" I yelled at him, still trying to unhook his arm off of me, which he didn't and instead pulled me closer to him like I was in danger. He had taken his hood off and his black hair was now in disarray, slightly covering his face. His sky blue marble-lookers darted around in wariness, then squinted at me. The giant shadow of the mansion casted over the ground had granted a bit of shade to our solar-flammable friend.

"Stop going to places you should not." He snapped back, and continued his fast pace towards the gate with me in his arms. He sounded a little too quiet, as if he was worried about someone hearing him.

Oof, snap.

"I've got a better idea, how 'bout you don't take me to places I don't want to go!" I exclaimed as I got close to his ear while walking. As soon as I raised my voice he pushed me away from him only to grasp my shoulder again, all with my arrogant ass still trying to wring him off of me. We stopped a few feet away from the brown door, and he let go.

If I were him I'd have done far worse to me a long time ago.

He smirked while looking around then back at me, then burst into a  quiet snicker like a school kid hiding in the bushes with second-hand embarrassment. I stood there dumbfounded at his weirdness, but not inherently surprised.

A chorus of angry Romanian began, and then rumbling footsteps that could rival an army approaching to attack. The doors on the sides of the main one burst open from the force, and out came a series of people in dresses, suits, and uniforms. A house staff, but acting far more casual than they were dressed. It was all just an old painting coming to life, or some high-end period drama rehearsal of method actors in the limelight.

They must've heard me screaming in Vlad's ear.

I looked back at Vlad to help me out, but nobody was behind me. I looked back ahead, and it didn't help that my heart was trying to beat out of my chest.

How do you say sorry in Romanian again?

Did I imagine Dracula coming here this whole time? Is this a dream? Is this Satan's trickery?

"Față muritoare!" A grey-haired woman cried out in joy with her hands on her cheeks as if looking at a puppy with a tutu or something. I noticed everyone was looking at me like long-lost child they'd lost at a carnival or something. (A mortal girl!)

Such attention scared me, but didn't freak me out. If it was anything the elderly ever liked about me was that I looked cute to them. Another lady, a handmaiden, put her hands on my shoulder like Vlad had done and steered me inside the door. However, in their chatter amongst themselves regarding me, I noticed some things worth noticing.

One of those things were pointy canines in their strangely perfect teeth, their clammy pale complexion, and the strangely literal glow in their adoring eyes. I quickly came to the conclusion that I was in the middle of at least six or seven vampires.

I muttered prayers in panic. Usually people I'm scared of don't like me praying, whether its their problem with me or my faith most of the time. However, I don't think I was going to face any problems whatsoever in that department because nobody here had the right to. After all, it was probably them who wanted me knowing fully well who I was.

The inside, surprise surprise, was candlelit. Old school, wax-loving freaks, am I right?

Why don't you time travel if you like vintage stuff so much, why are you even alive?

Oh, sorry for having imaginary conversations with my captor, I usually don't get kidnapped by undead supernatural entities, thus my unfamiliarity of the proper protocol to follow. Perhaps reality didn't hit me yet.

However, the inside of the circular foyer was twice as big as my apartment's living room, but maybe it seemed so with so much empty walking space save the seats and the occasional accent tables against the walls. Perhaps it was possibly the giant chandelier hung so high it looked like a small net when I sneaked a look up. The ceiling, a dome with all types of classical wall paintings that were illuminated by the chandeliers.

Ooh, fancy! Was my first thought, before I focused a little more on the strange placements of the drywall and the extreme popcorn effect. What a goofy light fixture installation job, creep couldn't have his place renovated properly to save his life with even royal money... wait a minute, isn't that where skylights usually are?

Perhaps I had a habit of ticking people off today, because my thoughts were cut off when I got knocked down onto my knees towards a large passage of an even bigger room. Strangely, the delicate, veiny hand that was ushering me had managed to push me to the smooth marble floor. If these people were so strong when not even motivated, it wasn't hard to imagine what they could do if I flipped out.

A regretful gasp, and a few women helped me up onto my feet so effortlessly, that I was in mid-air for a moment. I was a bit taken aback by the swarming of concerned staff, rubbing my back where I'd been pushed and my knees. Was I getting weaker?

True, I would spend a few mornings hungry and woozy until I got a bit of lunch, but that really didn't have to be now. True, the ballsy thought of enjoying his food and hospitality while owning it seemed like a good idea at first, but I'd forgotten a few things to think about. One tends to go way in over their head when they're at the mercy of someone who's unusually merciful.

If our friendly neighborhood fangman had the ability to throw me around like a twig yet was stopping himself, then these lovely caring superhumans were doing so as well. Nothing besides that man was keeping me alive.

Soon, the fancy dressed male servants disappeared from my entourage as if they were never there, but I couldn't notice as I was getting tired, hungry, and irritated by the excited chatter of the ladies pulling me through unknown corridors in which I forgot that this place wasn't abandoned.

I was getting a killer déjà vu. It wasn't even the language barrier that was getting on my nerves. Thing is, when this exact thing had happened to me years ago, I could neither understand those middle-aged ladies fussing over my appearance despite them speaking my native tongue. The way they were nitpicking each detail of my appearance that presented me to the outside world, and it was extremely weird as an adult. The scowl of the lady with the bonnet hiding furious red hair when she was running her fingers through my curls, someone else's hand feeling the shape of my nose and making me squirm away, another rubbing my hands and murmuring at their roughness and the callouses. I did notice they were being much more gentler now.

All this was so bizarre, so fast, that from being walked through darkened corridors by five people, to finding myself seated in front of a giant antique vanity set on a round velvet stool. However, my clear reflection caused me to forget all the thoughts I had before this, perhaps it was the filtered light coming from the windows.

My hair had curled up to chin-length, much shorter than it actually was. My skin was pale and a side of my cheek was smeared with dirt and dust from Poenari. My lips were cracked and chapped, no wonder Vlad was asking me if I was hungry or thirsty. However, it was probably my dark circles that got to me the most, it added to the ghostly look.

Ha, you'll fit right in. Jhakaas

Unfortunately, all that began to change. It made me have a knot in my stomach. First, it started with wiping my face a little, but then it got weird. I was ushered to stand up and led by the red-headed maid's grip on my hand towards a giant bathtub in the middle of the room

Oh no. Hell no.

Well, at least there wasn't any man around me anymore, so there wasn't anything wrong with me getting into that bathtub, especially if my life was in danger. It still doesn't mean I was ecstatic about it.

Soon, I realized I didn't have a choice because all of a sudden a loud tearing sound made me jerk away from the woman. She was holding the partially torn sleeve of my shirt, pulling me a little with it too. My graphic T-shirt worth seven dollars and a bunch of memories, torn like nothing.

I glared at the girl, before taking it off completely, followed by my pants. I looked down, and that's how long it took for me to realize I was already barefoot. I stared in bewilderment, as my shoes were tightened to the point of cutting off airflow, and I sure as hell would've felt someone take them off of me yet I didn't.

My attention was brought back when the maid cleared her throat and crossed her arms, waiting for me to get naked, and so I did. Why mess with the likes of those who can slip one's shoes off without them knowing?

I climbed into the giant bowl-like tub, taking the opportunity to cover myself with my limbs. I didn't want to lock eyes again, so I hung my head down.

My timid demeanor continued even when a lukewarm stream of water flowed through my hair, the cold piercing through my skin as it trickled freely down my body. I felt her fingers clasp around a chunk on the top of my hair, just tightly enough to make me feel it. She began lathering in some sort of shampoo in my hair, careful to not get it into my eyes but still doing it like it was her most detested chore. I mentally cussed at myself for not realizing what the fuck was happening.

I grabbed her hand, and she stopped. I turned to look at her, and all that tar in me deflated when I saw the look in her eyes. It was the gaze of an enemy being forced to bow to their rival, there was more rage in there than resignation. We may not have said anything, but I understood that stopping her was only stalling this and giving her time to absorb this even more, bringing her mentally closer to snapping my neck or waterboarding me. No, that hatred in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by me, I got it by anyone who thought just the very basic factors that made me who I was, made me unworthy of the respect they were forced to pay me, except this time they could kill me in the blink of an eye. I let go of her hand, and hung my head back, letting her do her job.

At least I'm not the only one unhappy here.

When she finished, I only had to get up before I got wrapped in a long smooth towel, too luxurious Egyptian cotton to be store bought and I could've sworn I saw it in some historical documentary before. They way they were touching my arms, it felt as if they couldn't get over me having giant muscles and callouses.

Wait, did these folks even know who I was?

One thing about Dracula that kept popping into my head was that he hated the Ottoman Turks. Not that he shouldn't have, given what they had done to southern Europe. I assume the feeling hadn't changed after six hundred years.

If they do know, why am I getting VIP treatment? Is this like preparing a lamb to the slaughter?

Was he planning on drinking my blood? He could've done that all from the get-go, without the entire marriage bullshit.

As I barely even acknowledged the clothes being draped on my body, fury raged within me.

I stared at myself, the weirdo wearing a plain light blue floor length dress neither old and neither modern. A corset bound my chest and torso like a bra, but it wasn't one of those cool cosplay ones you'd wear at a Ren-faire or derby. Layers of skirts skimming the floor weighed me down and made me want to sit instead of stand. The ugly full-sleeved cyan petticoat thankfully hiding some of the corset and covering my arms was just not my thing, especially with the frilly cuffs.

However, I did like the veil though. Despite the unfamiliarity of the style, it nailed my standards of modesty and was comfy enough, and that was what mattered to me at the end of the day. I might even learn it when I bust out of here. A light cloth that trailed down my back and along the front of my shoulders, secured by a thin silver halo. When they'd opened the drawer full of hair accessories, I had insisted on the silver one by keeping my hand on it so they couldn't close the drawer.

I had decided on announcing my humility in this situation before someone else claimed I had none. Perhaps I am a tad bit dramatic when given freedom of expression in situations like this.

Me, a bride of Dracula? Fuck no!

I may have been a piece of shit when it came to honor, but I wouldn't take this disrespect. No sirree, not me. I would demand to get this matter rectified immediately, and-
______________
Yeah, that was a few hours ago. Now I was in a grand living area that creepily resembled a throne room I probably had seen somewhere as well, except there were a few lounge chairs and a glass coffee table in the very back where the throne presumably would've been. I suppose the C-shaped positioning of the big contemporary block-styled arm chair being the center of attention helped that impression. Oddly enough, this seemed like a nice place for a therapist and his clients as well, certainly far better than an ex-prince and his forced bride. I suppose not even a PhD can change the evil in a person.

Sitting before me, in all his smugness was the man who ruined my entire morning by maybe ruining my life. Arguably, other people have gotten very close to doing so in the past but no, it took a fucking vampire to nail it. We both locked eyes as he acknowledged my presence, despite knowing I was there when I had been walking up to him yet choosing to look up and put away his phone when I had stopped in front of him. He frowned as he looked at me up and down.

"Has my staff any animosity towards me?" He asked.

I shrugged a bit too freely, feeling the iffy material shift a bit. This was going to be a long day.

"I don't know."

Am I supposed to know? Do I want to know? The fuck is he trying to ask me?

"The way they've tended to you, is no less than one would tend to an enemy. This is disrespectful to me."

I resisted a snorting laugh, but grinned like a fool.

"You make being an enemy sound nice." I muttered, half-heartedly meaning to say that out loud.

Am I actually saying this? Is this actually happening?

"And you make for a nice enemy." He mumbled. He said it in English, thus he meant for me to hear it. I couldn't take this dog and pony show anymore, so put on my big girl pants and spoke up.

"So if I believe you, that...." I suddenly stopped. It sounded quite awkward because I started off really confidently.

"That I am a vampire." He tried to finish for me.

"No," I interrupted. "That my father 'gave' me to you, what would you say if I wanted to asked him himself?"

"Uh, I would wish you luck in trying to leave?" He asked, genuinely confused as if I was speaking Urdu to him this whole time.

"No, I meant if you prove you're who you claim you are, and my father's responsible for where I am right now, then I'll actually surrender." I rambled.

He gave me a blank look, probably wondering where he needed to prove anything.

"So this entire time, during which I have thwarted your every plan to escape, after explaining what is happening and showing you the contract, you haven't submitted? You also need further evidence to substantiate my 'claims'?" He said, leaning forward pensively. The way he said everything slowly made it clear he was taking anything I was saying less than a grain of salt, as if he wasn't used to being spoken to this way.

"Well, yeah. Basically." I shrugged nonchalantly. I wanted to seem as serious as possible.

"Alright, drăga."

He clapped his hands twice and on command the wind split through the atmosphere beside me, making me instinctively shield my face with my hands. When I opened my eyes, there was a huge bald man in a black suit kneeling like some Arthurian knight, rather than a guard that looked like he worked at a Prada outlet on minimum wage.

My blood ran cold when I saw who it was.

"Scuzati..."

"AFARA!"

They spoke indistinctively, both of them briefly glancing at me once. In case this was turning sour for me, I was also bracing myself for a slap or a punch, a reprimand for even daring to question the old Dracul. This was another vampire, and the way he glared at me as he turned around and walked away from us after concluding his chat with Vlad, he really wasn't taking it well if he'd gotten beaten up by a girl just this morning.

Truth be told, I was still new to this whole vampire thing. This might sound insane, especially for a girl in a pickle like this, but a part of me was enjoying this. I suppose it was a tragic fact, as it meant my life became so boring that what was meant to be a tribulation test the divine mettle of a human soul, was instead a thrilling adventure to me.

A blessing, perhaps.

Vlad redirected his attention to me, but before I could ask him about that man he cut me off.

"Fret not, drăga. You will have your requested reassurance," He said, and sunk back into his chair. After a while of watching me intently just standing there, he scoffed at my obliviousness. "I will only tell you this once. You are to make yourself at home now. Sit down."

If I do, he might use this against me. Some motherfuckers are good at that. But if I don't, in a way I'm disrespecting his invitation.

Nevertheless, I made my way to the chair furthest from him and plopped down.

"So," he began. Oh no, I hated it when people started off talking to me like this. "As we wait, what is your course of action for now?"

I shrugged, and ran a hand through my hair behind the veil. "Honestly, I don't know. I know I've been kidnapped, bossed around by you, I've done shit worthy to probably have my head on a pike, and for some reason your maids sent me to you right now..." I awkwardly babbled on. I could tell he obviously realized I was bulshitting here, but didn't acknowledge that in the slightest bit, and instead nodded in clear understanding for me to continue.

I didn't know how to feel. Most would shame me for what I had just said, hell even I would shame me for saying all this in front of a vampire.

"And well... I suppose I'll just see what happens next and decide my way from there on." I finished half-heartedly.

There's probably going to be helicopters surrounding this shithole in no time.

"Henceforth, you have decided to only react to your surroundings as you feel you have lost control."

"Uh..." I thought about what to add on to his diagnosis, but couldn't. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"So after two years of your solitary freedom, how would you feel if life as you know it changed?" He asked curiously. It was a little unnerving how invested he was in this, as if it really mattered. However, I played along.

"I don't know, I reckon I'd be in a pretty dark place then. Why'd you ask?" Subconsciously, I was getting relaxed talking to him. I also knew keeping in mind exactly who I was talking to, that that wasn't exactly a good sign on my part.

"Alright. I assumed you would have a different answer given your nature." He mumbled disappointedly.

You don't even know me, man.

"My nature?" I asked him accusingly. Was this psycho really trying to gaslight me into believing I was the crazy one? He wasn't wrong, but seriously?

"Vulpea..." He chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. (Fox...) "I am still quite surprised you complied with my staff. Why respect them and not me?" He asked.

I thought before saying. "We all had an understanding."

"You do not even know Romanian, what opinion did you share with them?" He asked sharply in a childish way.

"That I don't belong here." I said snidely.

"Who, pray tell, expressed such thoughts with you, in such a manner that you could understand clearly enough to be understood as animosity?"

"How am I supposed to know? I don't speak Romanian," I shrugged, appalled that he would ask me something so weird. Where was he even going with this? But he interrupted me before I could express those feelings, making me feel pretty damn stupid.

"So do you have reason to believe that there is a unanimous objection against your presence here, but no animosity towards you?"

"What?" I asked sharply.

"If my staff did not like you, they would have expressed it, and seeing you're here unscathed and at peace, you did not either." He asked.

The jig's up. Dang, he should've been a lawyer!

Anger flared up. I wanted to tell him that the only motive anyone would have not to hurt me is because they're afraid of him. That the only reason I didn't do anything was because I was afraid of him.

Before I could, he smirked and leaned over closer to me, looking over my shoulder at the wall across the room, jutting his chin up so I would turn around. The suddenness of his expression changing threw me off a bit, but I excused it since it was a vampire I was dealing with.

I turned around to look over the large cushy backrest of the chair, and noticed the giant wall across the hall was actually most of a gate. How did I not notice that? It was right there! It had a few reminiscent details of Poenari, enough to make it look like a large gate of a castle.

The giant double doors now started creaking open, but I had to look back at Vlad again because he had gotten up and spun my chair around with one hand, the whiplash making me face the front again.

My eyes widened and I gasped when the gate completely opened to reveal dark tunnel, and a square of light from the world.

My heart began to pound almost out of my chest, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up despite my multiple layers of clothes. The sight before me was so horrifying that I didn't even notice the bastard behind me resting his hands on my shoulders until he pushed the veil aside and began lightly stroking my neck up and down with his nails. I didn't dare face him.

Now's the time for that alarm clock to ring.

However, I reminded myself of my pride, yes the same thing that took out the greatest people throughout history of mankind. Never had any emotion led people to so much demise like pride had. But to me, never did it feel just as important as my life as it did now.

Because right now all I could see was my aging father with a black eye and busted lip, muddied clothes and skin, and a sword to his neck, being forced to limp towards us with occasional pushes from the fancy mall cop that had come in earlier.

I closed my eyes when Vlad lightly leaned his weight onto my shoulders and I felt his hot breath more closely.

"Has your world darkened enough for you?" He whispered in my ear. "What will you do now, drăga vulpea?" (Dear fox)