She hadn't yet thought the count as a man of politics before this night. But the roots showed through more strongly than she would have guessed possible even in the most noble of rulers. Even when his eyes trained away from hers to the book on his desk, or the tea in his hands, the questions never stopped. Rarely commenting on the answers she gave in any other form than yet another inquiry, the impaler was a perfect communicator. Granted, he received his title from a birthright, but apparently the skill to communicate was a gift passed down in blood. Dracula, meaning Son of the Dragon, who was his father. Looking at him now, he wasn't so much of a dragon though she was unable to find the subtext revealing his nature even in the first extensive contact they'd had.
Before, this attitude he was giving her would have softened her tender heart. Now, she found it put yet another coat of steal over its casing. Before where she would have seen a complex creature, she couldn't help but to now feel complicated in that his true nature could not or would not reveal itself no matter how many facades he ripped from his face.
Her answers to the farce of a man were short but with complete honesty. Not only could she not get a reading of any real dose of personality from him, but to further complicate things, she could tell he still patronized her. Though for any sort of dignity, Eveline found herself quite unable to find any wording that openly discouraged her presence. Therefore, unable to call him out of it, her eyes lowered farther and further until they sat on her fingers currently pleated on her skirts.
Just when she was questioning her own insane judgment on the choice to converse with this man despite the benefits it may reap at a later time, the silence that befell him after hours of light conversation drew her eyes back up. Thankfully, he'd not been looking at her but out at the window. A moment of silence stretched on to t he point she could no longer remember what they'd been conversing about. To relieve herself of the unease that settled with the weight of a soundless room, her lips parted though she found no sentiments appropriate for breaking such a quiet.
"Leave"
The stern word surprised her eyebrows enough to raise off the scowl previously dominating her features. His face turned to her fast enough to make her recoil at meeting his eyes. The fierce gold appearing near red in the infant light peaking hesitantly over the Carpathian mountains to the east. In one fluid motion he had stood and even with her delay, she'd nearly tripped over her own skirts, and then nearly the chair. A thrill of fear both shocked her, and caused a dead heart to beat after it was spoiled so long for not being touched in such a manner. He made a move to go around the desk as to personally see her to the door, though she'd left him behind quickly, cowardice being the only thing she left in her wake.
Once back in her room, the adrenaline had made the trip quite fuzzy. In fact, the vagueness of her memory made the whole ordeal seem unrealistic. In fact, looking back, she could not remember a single word he or she, had uttered the entire time. The sun burned her eyes to the quick, dilating in a near painful manner in spite of it barley having risen. Going to the window, her body folded demurely on top of the chair, she dimly watched the ground beneath her, feeling as if she should not remove her gaze for the penalty of missing something important. In truth, the Count soon appeared, walking on foot, without his cloak out onto the grounds, easily recognized by the length of his hair. In that moment, her head dropped onto the windowsill, she hadn't felt so honestly tired since working on her father's vast lands. Unnaturally so, in fact, for she found herself drifting even in the ache of her position.
Upon waking, she had the distinct feel of someone tapping on her head. A strange sensation barley pulling her to the land of the living. Her eyes felt swollen, her mouth dry, and her limbs were numb with a profound slumber. It was the discomfort of her position that really woke her. And strangely enough she found herself faced with rain drops running down the window which she'd used to spy. A soft sound of displeasure escaped her throat, brushing back her hair and stretching her neck, she noted the heat emanating from her skin, nearly feverish. Perhaps that was the cause for the watered memories of last night.
She'd spoken with her father's executioner and her prison guard, the sheen of his nearly wild hair and the deep scarlet of his lips were implanted in her head, and she could see the lips moving in her memory, but could not remember a single word that had escaped them. Feeling under a spell even as she watched the trails of water make their purpose down that window, giving her the strange sensation of being lifted as they continued to fall. The memories of her dream represented the uncertainty of her own scattered thoughts. As in life, she had a vision of speaking with Vladimir, though this time she could recall what had been said with a bit more clarity. They talked of the wolves, and their loyalty and ferocity had created a hierarchy very similar to that of humanity, in her opinion. Though the Count had given his head a light shake.
"The wolves loyalty is not represented in the majority of our population. They are far more virtuous without even knowing what virtue is."
Because this had been a dream, she had crossed her hand over his. The pallor of his skin suddenly turned to that of a dead man's and even as she watched the back of his palm, blood ran from underneath his sleeve, touching her fingers. Knowing that something horrible awaited her when she looked to his face, Eveline's eyes were reluctant in the face of terror. Instead of finding the injury that would explain the cold feel of death on his hand, she found the blood dripping from his lips which spread into a smile at her connection with his own scarlet orbs.
The sound of a clearing throat alerted Eveline from the dream's poison to what had initially stirred her from the depths of a coma nap. Shifting so that the creature was in view, and much closer than her preliminary assumption, she found herself facing the man of her nightmares. Her mouth parted in a slight O though back to the numbness previously clouded over her, she did not flinch when he lowered himself politely on the seat next to her. The length of the couch would have permitted space between the two, but she felt his knee touch the outside of her thigh. Nearly expecting it to be cold as it had, she found she was partially right, though it was more than likely associated due to her more intense warmth that her body inflexibly seemed to hold onto today. Looking to him held no tone of the fear she'd felt so strongly the night before and the silence was just a normal one, his gaze focused on her face. For the first time, the monster had a flicker of doubt, and from the pale cloudy light focusing on him, she could see the faintest of lines creased from a light scowl that had painted itself over his pale face.
"You have weighed heavily on my thoughts today, Miss Eveline."
A pause, him waiting to see if she would respond, instead, she'd shifted a bit more to an upright position, one hand straying on the windowsill almost as if ready to hoist herself and jump out of the glass. Noting this, he'd placed a hand chastely on her lower thigh where his knee previously made light contact with. This, however, did nothing to calm her, the strength in even a loose gesture made the creature feel like steel, unbreakable compared to her human skin.
"When you fled from me last night, I questioned my own motives for I felt that you still need great adjustment to this home. I was previously unaware of this."
Attempting to recall what he was saying, she couldn't help but feel the falsehood in speech. She had not fled with him without reason, of that she was sure. The terror that coated her mind and body was unnatural in it's strength as if she'd suddenly become hypersensitive to a predator. He continued even in light of her obvious confusion, as if he could plow through it. Shifting his hand to her face lightly and with perfect stillness, his head tilted. The previous humanity she saw, was vanishing from him. She rarely saw the transformation, simply took in the changes it provided. The detail she found was something with his skin, as if it suddenly became indescribably smooth, his eyes forever empty and carrying no sting of familiarity to any other orbs.
"You have my word to not let you live in alienation any longer, you will begin spending the majority of your time with me."
A smile that she supposed was an attempt at a softer expression began to take over his face, though all she could picture was the blood his lips so closely represented in their color.
"Tonight, I am meeting with my boyars. I am sure that you will know some of them. I request your presence at my side."
The hand moved from her face, running softly down her throat immediately causing her skin to pucker before he drew away.
"So much time alone is not good for a young woman after all, leads to strange thoughts, and dreams."
Leaning closer so that Eveline leaned further toward the window behind her, multi-colored hues displaying her concern for the position clearly.
"I would suggest you should not dwell on such things, they have been known to drive even the strongest men mad."
And with that, he was gone, the in prominent pressure lifting from her skin and senses. With his promise, he informed her that he would see her in the matter of hours.
Oh, and make sure she was to receive a cloak, it did not look like the rain would let up soon.
