- V -

Amelia sat on a chair in her quarters, not knowing what to do. Should she flee from the castle and hide somewhere from the duty of becoming Princess of Moldavia? Or should she stay and accept that challenge? But what would happen if she failed? Would the nobles murder her silently? Would the revolting mob slay her in public? She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. Why must Viktor die now? Could he not hold out until she had found someone to purchase her lands? She stood, clenching her fists. She couldn't bear sitting in her quarters any longer, and she desperately needed to take a walk.

When she headed for the courtyard, the last rays of sunlight faded behind the peaks in the west. The temperature dropped with the last of the sun, and she had to wrap her fur cloak tighter around her shoulders. Apart from the soldiers, she was the only person down here. Crossing the courtyard, she inspected their attire. Most of them were wearing coats of chain mail, although some higher-ranking guards were in full armor, and all were carrying heavy swords. Amelia sighed. It could become difficult if she decided to flee from this fortress.

Torches were lit on the walls and a faint golden light spread across the court. Within the warm colours, Amelia thought she saw two sparks of cobalt. They flickered on the left side, in a corner not guarded by torch-bearing soldiers. She approached them slowly, trying to find out where they came from. Suddenly the shadow of a man appeared in front of her, and she recognized that strange noble, who had wanted to make a promise with Viktor. Corvinus was his name, if her memory didn't fail her and - for heaven's sake - the blue sparks were his eyes, glowing demonically in the dark.

Maybe she had stared at him too obtrusively, for he made a gesture for her to step aside, the pale skin of his hand glowing in the torchlight almost as bright as his irises. She didn't move, but if it was because of fascination or fear, she could not tell. He walked closer to her.

"Step out of the way, woman," he ordered, and Amelia could have sworn that she saw some red liquid glittering on his lips.

"Who are you?" she questioned, her voice remaining steady despite her uneasy feelings.

"Who wants to know that?" he asked in return, furrowing his brow.

"Countess Amelia, Lady of the lands south from here," she introduced herself, but didn't curtsy to him. At least her title seemed to attract his attention.

"Marcus Corvinus of Hungary," he said.

"You are the noble who offered a deal to Prince Viktor last night," Amelia said. Some of the dizziness she had felt when she had met him for the first time returned, but she stood tall, not showing any sign of it.

"That is correct, and he gratefully accepted."

He seemed unwilling to talk about it to her. It appeared as if he didn't want to talk to her at all, his strange eyes beginning to glow brighter. Was it anger that made them look even more unnatural?

"Pity. So he will take that mysterious bargain to the grave," she said.

"No, he won't," Corvinus answered, a knowing smirk appearing on his red-bearded face.

Amelia expected him to go on and explain his odd statement, but he remained silent, scrutinizing her body dismissively. She crossed her arms in a fluid motion, narrowing her eyes. No matter how unnatural he may appear and how dangerous he was, she would not falter beneath his demonic gaze.

"I think, as the heir of Prince Viktor, I have the right to know of what business he found important enough to get involved with on his death bed."

Her voice was calm and calculating as always as she scrutinized him just as he had done to her before. Even though she had not yet decided if she did want to fulfill it or not, in the present situation she could use the dying man's will to her advantage.

Corvinus made a mocking sound. "Viktor's successor, you? A woman? I mean, you're certainly appealing. Perhaps Viktor would have wanted you in his bed, but as his heir? Don't make me laugh!"

Amelia's light-green eyes focused on Corvinus's throat. With a fast, well-studied motion, she drew the dagger she had hidden beneath her cloak, pressing it against the windpipe of the impertinent Hungarian. "One more word of those disgusting insults and I will send you to the same place the Prince will go." A harder undertone appeared in her silky voice, with her beautiful features showing uncharacteristic signs of anger.

"How impressive!" he said but his expression betrayed his words.

Corvinus didn't look impressed at all. He pushed the blade away easily, threatening to hurt her with her own dagger. Then, with only a flick of his hand, the blade went flying across the courtyard, and he pushed her backwards, slamming her against the wall.

The countess's eyes widened in shock when a searing pain exploded in her back. She was used to the fact that most men had more physical strength than herself. Normally she countered that with speed, tactics, and the element of surprise, and therefore was able to defeat them. Corvinus, however, was stronger than any man she had ever met, although he was not much taller or more muscular. It was now clear to her that he couldn't be a mortal man. Despite being trapped between him and the courtyard wall, she regained an upright posture.

"What are you?" she asked.

Corvinus grinned, but the smile had a malicious edge. He was closer to her now, and even in the dim torchlight she could now perfectly see the drying red liquid on his lips and chin. Even if it had been completely dark, she would have noticed the penetrating smell of blood, which emanated from him.

"What do you think I am?" he asked in return, baring long animal fangs.

Amelia flinched. She had heard stories of those who were like him. Unholy creatures of the night, the undead, bloodsuckers…...

"...strigoi," she breathed.

"You are clever, little countess!" Corvinus said. "But I have to keep it a secret for as long as I am here, so unfortunately you won't live to tell the tale." With that he pushed her against the wall again, opening his mouth and lowering it to her throat.

Amelia's head was spinning wildly, she felt completely petrified, unable to even move a finger, not to mention screaming for help. Was this the way she had to die? Trapped in a dark corner, under the spell of a vampire? If she could have chosen her fate now she would gladly have accepted being Princess of Moldavia. Maybe she would even have accepted being married again. Being anywhere but here.

She could feel his cold lips touching her bare flesh now, still wet with the blood of someone else. Her stomach turned. Two needle-like fangs, scraping across her skin. Her knees started trembling. And then...