CONTENT WARNING: Another one to bear historical context in mind a little again. A scene of violence, discussions of domestic abuse and related trauma, alcohol consumption (for fun, nothing distressing), mentions of murder and suicide. And to top it all off…one instance of bad language.
Oskar
Katlego and I didn't converse much. She seemed to want to announce her presence, but didn't want to arouse suspicion by showing that we knew each other. Instead, I decide to mingle...
Despite Henford having brought out my emotions a little, mine were running higher than usual. To be in this beautiful dress, it was a kind of euphoria that I had never felt before. I can only compare it to when I was turned, and to when I drink blood- an unimaginable ecstasy. I don't even care if anyone notices. This isn't a disguise, after all.
Katlego had begun mingling with the other guests. Something that had caught me as soon as I came in was the sensation of warm bodies everywhere in this building- I could almost hear the blood pumping through their veins. I don't sense any magic; I suppose Annorin isn't around at this moment in time. I half expected to have one of my usual meltdowns, to be sat in the corner counting myself out of sinking my fangs into someone's throat...but no such feeling comes to me.
Instead, I'm overcome by a vicious, vengeful, burning hunger. What separates these people from the people outside is that these people aren't innocent. These are some of the most wealthy in the world...all their filthy riches gathered by exploitation, manipulation and greed, and very little of it out of hard work like the everyday people of Henford. They were bloodsucking in their own way. Maybe, just maybe, if I catch one of them out of others' eyesight...
For now, I mingle with the guests as Katlego is. As vile as they all are, perhaps someone will be interesting.
The first I speak to is a man about my biological age named Regan Ember- the younger son of the Ember family, supposedly a well-known and well-feared banker in Henford and the surrounding country. His laugh is chilling; it sounds even more fake than my own.
I ask him what he thinks of Annorin.
"Samuel is a talented man, well-deserving of all of his riches and success. He cured my daughter of a disease that was once thought incurable."
"You know, some say that perhaps he's guarding his cures from those who cannot afford it..."
Regan scoffs at me. "And if they were affordable? Well, then, everyone would survive, wouldn't they? And that wouldn't be any good for the economy, both in terms of population numbers and in terms of just who is surviving. This is what I value about Annorin's medical work the most- he saves his cures for those who deserve them. Preservation of the best is how every other species works. I don't see why ours feels the need to mar the intergirty of its own future with empathy for the weak."
It takes all of my energy to not shatter his skull. According to what's written in one of my diaries, that I wrote in my vampiric infancy in an attempt to never forget the early days...When I was a child, I was often told by adults other than my parents that I wasn't like the other children. Many children like myself were not loved by their parents, and were sometimes abandoned or even killed. Thankfully, my mother and father were quick to shoot down any such suggestions from other people. Much like Violeta does, they loved me for who I am, with no expectation to change or be like anyone else.
Henford as a country feels like a pack of wolves, all at one another's throats thinking that they alone are the one to rule the pack, that they alone are the alpha- or at least their misconception of such a position. None of them ever consider for a second that there will always be someone out there stronger than them, more intimidating than them. They may feel invincible, but they don't realise there is one person under this roof who could destroy all of them without breaking a sweat.
"Anyhow, you haven't introduced yourself."
"Well, it's a masquerade, isn't it? Wouldn't it defeat the object?"
Regan chuckles, but it's a soft chuckle, as if he's trying to garner my affections. "I suppose it would. Well, are you here with your husband?"
"I'm here by myself."
Regan offers his hand. "A dance, then?"
"With me?"
"Of course. You're the best-looking woman here."
Part of me had always wanted to try my hand at ballroom dancing. Sadly, I'd never met anyone else who wanted to, and Violeta hates everything about dancing and thinks it's all 'meaningless fanciful footwork.' I spent a lot of time at Nebelstadt practicing by myself, with a pretend partner- a little depressing. Now, I had a chance to try it with an actual partner. Besides, more importantly, maybe I can get some more information out of him this way.
"Why not?"
He shivers as he takes my hand. "Your palms are freezing! Are you unwell?"
"Oh, don't worry about me. Circulation problem. Runs in the family."
Regan and I are both trying to take the lead, until I realise what I'm doing and let him take charge. He's a digusting man, but I won't deny that there isn't a sort of charm about him- a dark one. Like he could lure you into a trap and turn you into a husk of yourself in the process. Well, I suppose he is a banker.
"I must say, there's a uniqueness about you," he says, in a hushed voice. The warmth of his skin against mine is only making me want to drain him, here and now. Let someone else suck the life out of him, for a change.
"Your stormy grey eyes...and that silky contralto...and the beautiful accent. Windenburg, is it?"
"Well, that's the first time anyone's ever told me I had a beautiful accent...Since we're both at Annorin's celebration, I must ask your thoughts. You ever wonder what kind of future he has? What with all of these various...revelations?"
His laugh has a snakelike undertone. "Ah, yes, those. Quite unfortunate, isn't it, that it had to happen to him? I don't quite believe those stories. I mean, would Annorin really consider a lowly cunningwoman to be any form of competition? I'm sure most of it is the raucous barking of those without a penny to their name. All those cries of 'think of the children!'. Perhaps the parents should have thought about whether or not they could afford medicines for their children before they...how can I put it politely- did the deed."
My grip tightens on his hands, and I notice him wince. We put our hands together, as a sort of parting from the dance, I can only assume.
"Trying to lead during the dance, and that grip...you're a tenacious one, aren't you, Fräulein?" I can see him staring down at my chest...
Are all Henford folk like this? They all seem to be as slimy and as self-serving as each other.
"I know how to get what I want, Regan. Why else would I be here?"
The urge is hard to ignore. As he leans down, he bares his neck. I can sense it throbbing with blood. No counting bats, no remorse. Nothing. Annorin's home has a hidden seating area just around the back of the main hall. If anyone saw him passed-out, they'd only assume he had a little too much to drink instead of me.
He plants a wet, slimy kiss on my hand, and I shake him off. I ask him if he wouldn't mind a quiet chat away from all the noise. I guide him gently towards the sofa and coffee table near the back of the main hall. He gives me a look...that look... and I assure him that I do not intend to do anything of his flavour of intimacy.
"What on Earth do you mean, Fräulein? We've just danced together, in perfect unison, and now you're just going to reject me? Did I say something?"
Every word that came out of his mouth during our discussion made me want to tear out this throat, but I remember my promise to Katlego.
The taste of his blood is hard to describe. It's both sweet and bitter. The bitterness is disgusting, and yet I can't pull away. When I drank from Dinah, I was careful with her. I cared for her. I don't care for him, nor do I care for anyone else here except for Katlego. Now he knows how it feels to have the life drained from him-
There's a sound behind me. I lift him slowly onto the sofa, drying off his neck until the wound stops bleeding. I wipe the blood from my face into the red chair next to me in a panic...It's mostly not too visible.
Katlego
There's something about that woman in the black dress. Beautiful, of course, but...something else. She approaches me again when I take a break from the crowd. It seems she was taking a break from the crowd, too, besides a man who looks as if he has passed out already from the wine.
"I can't stand this crowd already," she says. That accent...It can't be. Can it?
"Neither can I," I reply. "And still no sign of the star of the show..."
"You think he'd stick around and soak up all the attention, don't you? Maybe he's preparing for a long, gloating speech. Who knows?"
The manner of speech...It must be him. I wonder why he's wearing a dress, though? To blend in? To disguise himself? Still, it's a masquerade- there's already an element of disguise, so that can't be it...Either way, I never thought I'd see a dress suit a man so well.
Still, I don't want to risk making an error, so I ask a question I can guarantee I'll get the right answer for.
"What are your thoughts on him, then?"
"You know exactly how I feel about him, Katlego," he says, in a hushed voice. "And on top of everything...the man beat his own son. The only reason that he invited you here tonight is because I convinced him that, if he did, he could get rid of you."
* * *
My time in the dress has been fun, but I figure I ought to change back into something familiar. The urge to drain every single one of these people only seems to be growing, and for once, I don't plan on making any efforts to stop myself.
I don't want to get this lovely (and expensive) dress ruined. Whilst everyone is far too interested in brown-nosing Samuel Annorin, I quickly head back home to change into something a little easier to move about in, quickly letting Kat know before I do so. I didn't have time to tell her of my findings in the book, but there'll be time for that later. I have no idea what Annorin has in store for her, and somehow I'll have to find out before it's too late to intervene in any way...
Eli
I didn't want to come back to Samuel's house so soon. I hated all fifteen years of living here. I'd take Oskar's cottage over this mansion any day. The only reason I made the effort to go was to see Owen. He's been away in San Myshuno carrying out Samuel's work for a few years now. The two of us have never been incredibly close. Owen always made it obvious who the favourite was out of me and him, but I never got the feeling that he never cared about me at all- unlike our father. All I can do is try to convince him of what it's been like whilst he's been gone.
"Well, well, look at you, little brother! All grown up," he says, laughing between sips of wine. I can hear a touch of the San Myshuno accent on top of his own. "It's been a while. How are you keeping?"
"Better now I'm not living here."
"Oh? You're not?"
"No. I'm apprenticed to-"
"Oh, of course! Oskar Nivelheim? Father mentioned him. He's incredibly suspicious of the man- can't say I blame him. It does seem a little odd that the lineage has just come out of the woodwork after so many years, pardon the pun... but either way, at least you're doing something good for yourself. As much as I heckled you about not amounting to anything, I knew you would eventually find your true calling."
I don't know if he's joking or not, but I'm used to that with him.
"Owen...I don't want you to keep working for Father anymore."
Owen chokes on his wine. "What on Earth do you mean?"
"Things have been terrible. He got a new cunningwoman kicked out of Henford for being his 'competition', and another healer either committed suicide or was murdered, and I bet for the same reasons. Hundreds of women and children are dead, and Father has done nothing."
"Father has been like this for years, Eli. And do you have any proof of those claims? They all sound rather outlandish."
"Well..."
"Well, I can't act on anything you can't prove, Eli. It'd look terrible on me, wouldn't it, if we turned out to be wrong?"
I hated it. Owen had been completely brainwashed by him as the 'favourite son'. And even then, Samuel didn't truly care about him. He only saw him as a business partner- never a son.
"I believe Father invited Oskar, yet I've not seen anyone fitting his description tonight."
"Oskar would never have turned up. He hates Father as much as I do."
"I see. And what is Oskar like to you?"
"He's very good to me. If anything, he's more of a father than Samuel ever was."
All Owen does is laugh at me, but it's an awkward laugh...like he wants to agree, but also doesn't want to criticise Samuel.
"You know, you can say Father was wrong. You may have taken all of his abuse without complaint, but I'm done doing that, nor am I going to be as careless as Father is about those worse off than-"
"My, my, I understand what your generation are like, Eli. You all have a wonderfully-moral head on your shoulders but you must realise that you especially are in no place to be one of those self-righteous people. Our entire lives have been funded off the backs of other rich people, not the poor.
It wasn't the peasantry caked in pig shit that put clothes on your back and food in your belly, was it? And even if you did try to be a philanthropist, nobody down on the ground would trust you. Does everyone still yell at you and spit at you every time you walk outside of your front door, Eli?"
I've had enough. I hate to waste Violeta's hard work covering up my bruises with a little subtle make-up, but I figure if he won't believe me about everything else, he'll definitely believe me about this. I know perfectly well that the same happened to Owen on occasion when he was younger...
There we are. Somehow without dropping his wine glass, he grabs me by the shoulders. We may not always get along, but I know deep down that Owen cares for me in some way or another.
"Little brother...did Father do this to you?"
I can see the glimmer of a terrible memory in his eyes. He's been in this position plenty of times.
I don't tell him that I told Samuel allsorts I shouldn't have shared about Oskar...things he could use against him. but Samuel gave me little choice. All he doesn't know about him now is that he's a vampire...but I have a dark feeling that he may be about to find that out himself. I wish I never caved and said anything, but I couldn't...From what I'd told him, all it took was Samuel to warn the authorities and Oskar could end up rotting away in an asylum and it would be all my fault.
"I'm...sorry."
"It isn't your fault, Owen, but...please, don't do what he's been doing. Don't go back to San Myshuno. Help the people here that need it. We've got enough money. We can spare a little for the people who are dying. You're not like Father."
I don't want to say anything else, and at this point, I'm tired. I head back home.
I was only partially telling the truth when I told Owen he was nothing like his father. In most ways, he was, but what separated Owen and Samuel...
...was that Owen genuinely cared about his family somewhere deep down.
Oskar
I didn't bother with the mask on my way back. There was no point playing into the masquerade at this point. I didn’t think it could get any worse until we'd all sat down for tea and a chat. I couldn't think of worse company. The way they spoke of their children, their families, everyone else...it made me sick...more than sick. It made me furious. The man in red, Owen, Annorin's eldest- I couldn't help but notice him narrow his eyes at it all, especially at his own father. Eli never spoke about his brother in any detail. I didn't know what to think of him.
Whether Annorin had noticed or not, I had swapped my tea with Katlego's. I doubt anyone else would have noticed, but thanks to either heightened vampiric senses or Annorin's lack of common sense to use something with no taste or scent, I noticed there was something else in there. A slightly peculiar floral scent of sorts- probably some sort of botanical poison. I knew it wouldn't affect me, but it didn't make it any easier to drink- the taste was horrific.
Just after, I get a tap on the shoulder- it seems he did notice, after all. He looks panicked under that thin veneer of calm. Little does he know the poison will have little effect on me whatsoever.
"Well? How was the tea?"
"Oh, lovely, actually! A hint of bitterness to it, a sort of floral aftertaste. What did you add to it, I wonder?"
He says nothing. He just stares, unsure whether to lash out or freak out.
"Ah, I understand. Secret family recipe. Got it."
He gives me his characteristic scowl. "Indeed. Now, pardon me- I ought to go and prepare for my speech."
* * *
In Annorin's room...
"It seems my backup plan worked in a sense. Katlego is not dead, but I know that Oskar was indeed working alongside Katlego, and that's why he pushed me to invite her...well, why does it matter? Why will anyone believe any of their claims, should they try to ruin my speech?
But how- the poisoned tea! The poison for Katlego! The poison I chose specially to kill Katlego! Katlego's poison! Oskar drank the entire mug of that tea and was absolutely fine! Not just who, but...what is he?"
"I wasn't overthinking, was I? I had reason to be suspicious of Oskar somehow. The attitude, the eccentricity, the insanity, the...drinking a mug of poisonous tea and being absolutely fine. What, who could do such a thing...a fae. That's it. He must be a fae, or a changeling or some sort. Why his parents didn't leave him to the wolves in the forest is anyone's guess. That'd explain what Eli said about his odd thought processes, and it'd explain his peculiar behaviour when we met not too long ago..."
"As for Katlego, well...I'll have to think of something-"
"What? What's going on?"
"Did the witch put a spell on me? Or was it the fae- changeling? Ugh, I'm hideous! I can't do the speech like this!"
"Urgh...I really have little choice, don't I? Either one of them will pay for humiliating me like this in front of my supporters..."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The 'You're the best-looking woman here' is a self indulgent reference to this Final Fantasy 8 meme.
