The Sun Rises For Sinners Also--
They greet the dawn at sunrise in a shadowy turret room. Sitting upon thrones, their expressions captivating; they sit in silence, watching the sun rise. If they were to draw too close to the window, they would be exposed, looking down on their precious Volterra. Their empire's capital city. Glistening they would be viewable to the early-risers: the bakers, the vendors, the pious folk heading to the church in their finest garb, the mothers shaking sleep from their forms as they get their family ready for the day.
If anyone were to look up as if to the sun, the figure shining like diamonds would alarm them and endear them in the same breath. The secret would be out, and on the other side of that medieval castle wall, punishment would have to be given. Luckily no one inside is foolish; they stay far from the window, their thrones pushed against the back wall. Still they watch the sun being born to the sky, and marvel at the beauty.
A cynical one might gloat in his mind that he in fact can watch this. The humans are wrong. They always are. The sun will not burn him, and so he can watch it whenever he likes. He can also choose just how many sunrises and sunsets a human may have. He can end their life on a whim, if he likes.
He likes the carnage; it makes him feel alive again.
When it's not sunny, he can look down on his little town, his farm, as he might think of it from time to time. He can grin as he remembers the taste of blood on his lips, the brief heats as he drinks it. That heat that feels wonderous when he's so cold all the time. The rush of taking someone's life, the power, the lust. Yes, the lust. He finds himself excited when he he participates in the dance, the danse macabre every so often when prey is brought into his domain to be devoured.
It is his wife's company he seeks afterward. Usually.
He has all this sin, and yet he watches the sun rise every morning.
Caius likes the sun.