"Where have you been father?" Herbert asked accusingly as the older vampire returned to the large castle via the wind.

As he retook his form, Christian eyed his 'son' with a bit of distaste more than anger.

"I really do believe your manners become less and less," he said in response, not answering his question.

"Where have you been?" Herbert repeated, hands leveling lightly upon his hips in a defiant gesture.

"Finding myself a new childe," he finally answered coolly, moving to sit at his deep mahogany desk within the large study area.

"Now?" Herbert didn't hide his shock very well. "You're two days away from possible rule and you start making a childe now?"

Christian took a moment to look at his son in name, something was bothering him. Otherwise he wouldn't be acting this way.

"Yes Herbert," Christian answered then, "and in the case you forget I do have that right. Besides, she'll be presentable at the ball in this way."

"You push your luck father, the elders will not like this," a disgusted shake of his head followed the statement, almost spitting out the words as though they were a poison that threatened his own existence.

"I am an elder," he responded with the same coolness as usual, "what bothers you my son? Something is obviously getting to you."

"Possible new conquest," a smile lit the more feminine man's face at the reminder, "I invited him to the ball actually. No reason to not have it spiced up a little."

"You can keep him under control?" Christian asked simply.

Herbert nodded, a bit of a desirous spark to his eyes, his fangs showing ever-so-slightly at the thoughts.

"I will be more than capable of doing so father." he answered and lowered his head slightly to be respectful.

"Then let us head to rest," Christian answered, "the sun shall soon rise and we have much to plan in the evening."

* * * * *

"What do you mean she's sick?" Anthony frowned at the inn keep, "she seemed fine yesterday. Would you like for me to fetch a doctor?"

All morning Diana hadn't been seen. She had apparently come down with some flu in the evening and was afraid of letting the customers catch any of her illness. Anthony wasn't too convinced anyone could be that ill that quickly.

"Sir," the large innkeeper protested weakly, "I assure you that she is ill. If you would perhaps like another of the girls here I could arrange it with ease. Miranda should be here soon."

As though on cue, Miranda stepped inside to start her work for the morning. The lean but lithe woman stepping inside with an air of confidence. Long blond hair fell around her shoulders and cascaded over her back, well cared for considering her station in life. She had vibrant hazel eyes that seemed to switch between green and blue depending on the lighting she was in. Currently taking more of a green tone. She wore a rather faded blue dress with an apron over it for work. She did more then whore for the place to get her pay.

She looked around before nodding toward Anthony and Bram with a slight grin curling her full red painted lips She walked over slowly.

"Sir," Anthony seemed insulted at the bartender, ignoring Miranda completely, "I ask because I am simply concerned for the woman. My comrade seems to believe some curse haunts your lands. If so I'd like to help."

It was the innkeepers turn to be nervous. The last time someone went looking for trouble they became the trouble they were looking for. Usually how it worked out at the castle. He shook his head too insistently to be trusted as he protested. "No no sir, not at all. She is just ill. If you'll excuse me. Miranda get these gentlemen whatever they like."

He walked off to see his daughter, fearful that the young nobleman was right in his assumptions. Miranda remained to flirt with the two gentlemen, gaining more of Bram's attention then Anthony's. Nontheless, business was business.

The innkeeper knocked on his daughter's door. His wife emerged however. The short, stocky, heavily built woman scowling at him as she waddled out. Of course, one got used to that. Her face never seemed to do anything but scowl, as though it was trapped in those contorted, bulbous features. She had a large nose that seemed to have been pressed flat across her face. Her cheeks sticking out far enough to be in front of her nose. Her mouth had large cracked lips and more chins then anyone cared to count. She had deep, beady dark eyes with circles underneath them. Graying hair was kept in a bun on her head. Just adding another lump to her head.

"What is it ?" she muttered at him in anger, "Diana needs rest now, she'll be fine, jus' 'as a bit o' de flu, dat's all."

He nodded some, "nothing then, the nobleman just seemed to think it might have been the count or one of his."

"Nah," she shook her head at him, "dere weren't wounds and she 'ad her garlic over the winda' sills."

The man nodded, reassured, "good then. We have to be careful with these two. Don't want them going up to that castle."

She returned the nod gravely and both stood quietly, not knowing that Miranda was arranging things for their trip up there as they spoke.