You wake to a knock on the door and get up to answer it. It is dusk, but it seems much later because it is so dark. You open the door to see a servant with her eyes downcast submissively.
"Vladislaus sent me to ready you," she says quietly. You let her in and shut the door. She goes over to the dress, but you beat her to it, seizing it from her grasp. You glare at her almost menacingly, and she looks slightly surprised.
"I can put it on myself. You can lace me," you counter, a little defensively. You slip the dress on in the closet. You are dismayed to discover that you cannot wear your leather corset with this gown, as it has its own corset built in. Plus, the leather corset would make the bodice of the dress bulge. You take the vial of poison out of your corset and search the dress for somewhere to place it. Luckily, it seems to fit all right within the bodice, even though it is not yet laced.
You come out to an expressionless servant. She gets straight to the lacing. You note that she is not tying it tight enough. "You have got to make that tighter," you say. Just then, the door opens. You look over your shoulder and see the Count. He approaches you and the girl moves out of the way. He runs an inspecting hand along the lacing and then glares at the servant.
"Despicable girl!" He hisses, "Out, now!" The servant girl scampers off, without so much as a whimper. "You would think that servants would know how to properly lace a dress," he says, undoing the majority of the lacing. His cold finger brushes your bare back and you jump, surprised. He chuckles, amused by this, and gives a good yank at the bottom row. "I notice," he says, threading the next row, "That you did not stay put this afternoon." He pulls it unbearably tight in a kind of angry gesture. You falter, caught off-guard. "Perhaps, you thought you would find answers," he threads the next row, "In my hidden crypt." He pulls it again, in a manner that would cause suffocation.
"I did not realize," you begin to answer, "That I was breaking and entering." He threads the next row. "I assure you it—" He pulls hard; so hard that you fall back into him with a gasp. "—won't happen again!"
"Hold still," he hisses, shoving you onto the edge of the bed. The pain of the lacing begins to burn across your midriff. "My patience with your actions is dwindling, my love." He threads the next row, flicking his wrists expertly. "Do you truly want to push it?" He pulls the lacing hard and you gasp.
"Oh God…" You mutter in pain. The burning sensation continues up through your ribcage and it feels like your bones are going to break. He threads the next row.
"So where else did you venture, my love?" He asks coldly, wrenching the next row as if he were trying to uproot a tree.
"Nowhere!" You gasp, as he threads the next row. At this point, you are about to collapse.
"Nowhere?" He repeats, pulling hard on the cords, pressing his knee into your lower back in an attempt to make it tighter. Your lung capacity diminishes quite considerably and you gasp for air.
"I went for a walk!" You reply weakly, falling forward on the bed. He pulls you erect by the bodice strings and threads the next row.
"Do I seem stupid to you?" He asks, pulling relentlessly on the cords. Tears fill your eyes and you close them, feeling the pain surging through your entire upper body.
"Please stop…" You say softly.
"Not until you tell me what you did!" He says, enraged. He is holding you steady on the lacing, like you are some wild animal about to run away. You cough, unable to speak or think properly.
"I was only trying to find a way to destroy you…" You choke, trying to hold your composure, "But I was unsuccessful…please forgive me…" He pauses until finally, after he thinks about it, the answer seems satisfying to him.
"All right," he says. Then he quickly finishes off the lacing in a whir and pulls it agonizingly tight. You screech, falling back into him, nearly in a faint. He grins evilly at you. "You could soon know no pain, my love," he swoons, entrapping you in his arms. You stare into his eyes mistily. You cough again and his grin fades, as he realizes that you are still in no condition to be taken.
Supporting you by the waist, he brings you over to the dresser, where an elaborate jewelry set is placed. He slips some pale gold evening gloves onto your arms. You lean on him the entire time, trying to stay conscious. Finally, he seems satisfied with the look and helps you into some red shoes with gold embroidery. You murmur softly, on the brink of consciousness and unconsciousness. It feels like you have suffered a horrible beating, and your entire torso is aching.
"You will be in better humour once we have walked a bit," he assures, gripping you firmly by the waist. You walk along down the dark passages, as if in a trance. You can vaguely hear music coming from the ballroom. It is light in nature, and traditional. Dracula smiles to himself and walks faster, pulling you along with him. You guess it is sort of good that you are so weak. At least you really have nothing to fear, because he will not take you in this state.
As you approach the door that leads into the corridor beside the ballroom, he stops rather suddenly, gripping you so close that your noses nearly touch. His expression is stern, but a cold desire burns in the depths of his eyes. "I will not have you go about doing anything nasty this evening, my love," he warns, leaning closer so that your eyes meet and there is no way to escape his hypnosis.
"No," you say weakly, closing your eyes and trying to wriggle out of his iron-locked grip. He laughs, gripping you tighter.
"I won't have you ruining my ball with your silly antics," he says, "Now, open your eyes." You refuse to do so. Suddenly, your eyes fly open anyway, as if he is controlling them. A smile alights on his lips that is so hate-worthy, it makes you shudder. "Forget your fears. Forget your longing to escape me. Forget Van Helsing…" His eyes burn into you as he whispers fiercely. But you are resisting the fall. His eyes burn in continuous ferocity, and he wrenches you from your feet, arching your back over his arm. You are bent over backwards, blinking back tears of pain. "The suffering would stop…if you do as I say," he says ardently. You force your breaths out evenly. "Perhaps, you will like to hear of a past life of yours…the…tragic destiny which you chose to bluntly ignore…" He pulls you up to his right shoulder, looking at you with a fiery passion, and places a cold hand on your jaw, stroking down your neck, "My Princess Adriana." You immediately spring away in a desperate display of locked-up power. You end up on the floor with a gasp. He looks surprised, and pleased, at the same time.
"Then, you are ready," he whispers, approaching deliberately. You leap to your feet, getting a pillar between him and you. You now realize he had played you intentionally by pushing all of your buttons, which finally drove you to out yourself. You are humiliated that you were not strong enough to continue to play it out. Perhaps there is some way you can still regain your weakness.
"I am not your Princess Adriana anymore, Vladislaus!" You say. He smirks, circling the pillar. You follow, keeping the distance between you equal. You can feel your heart beating out of control in fear and helplessness.
"Don't be afraid, Princess…once, you did not fear me," he is saying.
"You were not threatening my entrance into heaven in 1452, Vladislaus. You were a mortal then. It is now quite different," You say bravely. His eyes blaze.
"Nothing has changed. Twice I have destroyed you, Adriana. You fail always to destroy me," he reminds, his steps sounding in death, "And more times I have tried to seduce you…successful, none! But I swore I would…"
"Your swear is worthless!" You cry, shivering. His anger begins to burn off and he smiles falsely, as he appears to recompose himself. He walks away, towards the door, and then stands there, looking at you.
"I have no time to fight, my love," he says. His tone holds no sign of defeat; only a promise that the argument is not yet over. He turns fully, extending a hand towards the door. "The ball awaits." You do not move, for you do not trust him. His smile vanishes and his face looks concerned. "Do not make this difficult," he says, walking towards you. You gulp, not moving. He places an assuring hand on your waist and then abruptly catches your eyes with his. "Under my control, you will not have to think so much…" Your mind tries to fight him off, but caught so off-guard, you are ill prepared and he begins to take you over. "And you will not ruin my evening." His eyes glow with fire and he takes you under his dark hypnosis. "To the ball," he whispers forcefully, and you follow him Your mind has no control over your body now, for your body is under his command.