- VIII -

"So, how does one become an immortal?" Amelia asked, her hand still slightly trembling in his. All the tales of the undead had spoken of a suicide, and the sinners rising from their grave to haunt the living. As she had little interest in taking her own life, that left the only remaining possibility unsaid. "Will you bite my neck?"

"I could, yes." Viktor nodded before pausing. He seemed to think about it for a moment, glancing down at their clasped hands. "But I fear that you will not become as powerful a vampire as I if I turned you. I have only recently become an immortal myself. Therefore..."Viktor paused, then looked into Amelia's eyes again. "...Marcus must do it. He will make you an immortal."

Amelia pulled her hand from Viktor's, stunned by his proposal. Marcus Corvinus, that impertinent wretch, who had so deeply offended her and then dared to lay his hand upon her. To kiss her with the intent that his bite would kill. He was no better than his bestial brother, William, and now Viktor proposed that Marcus should be the one to turn her. She looked at Viktor, frowning unhappily. "Viktor, please. Not Marcus."

"I am sorry, Amelia," he sighed. "But as I swore, you will never be lesser than anyone. I want you to be our equal, not our subordinate."

Amelia regarded him, unconvinced. Eternity and an immortal life was a curse, a punishment on her for a lack of faith, if Marcus was the one to turn her.

"I will ensure Marcus respects you. I gave you my word, did I not? He will not hurt you, this I promise." Viktor took her hand again in an attempt at reassurance.

Reluctantly, Amelia nodded.

"Have you gone out of your mind, Viktor?" Marcus's fury was a tangible thing. He was pacing around in the sitting room like a trapped animal with its teeth bared in an ugly snarl. His eyes reflected back the firelight with a blue flash as he lifted his gaze. A servant girl had disturbed his pitiful meal of bull's blood, and he had had half a mind to take her instead as a lesson to the warlord who thought he could be summoned like a night spirit. And now this.

"I refuse to make her our equal! A woman, of low nobility, with no experience in warfare!"

He spat the words out, eyes narrowing at the sight of the woman seated at Viktor's right hand. She didn't flinch, but his agitation was easily apparent in his voice and expression, even to her mortal sight.

Viktor stood up from his seat and positioned himself in the middle of the room, blocking Marcus's way. "Listen to me, Marcus." He began to speak in a tone that brooked no disobedience, but before he could finish, Amelia stood up, addressing the other man.

"You expect experience in warfare but lack in such yourself. I suggest that we learn from Viktor in this. He is the soldier and a man accustomed to command. Such a thing could be… of benefit to you in time." She glanced between the two before continuing. "Further, I would refrain from finding fault with my sex and lower rank. Unless you intend to establish a society of immortals where the gentler female is lesser, a plaything to her male companions? Or do you wish for progress, a freer world where a person, be they male or female, is judged worthy and permitted to rise through the ranks? A world where a peasant can climb to the aristocracy if they have the skill and will to do so."

Marcus hissed, turning on her with teeth bared. "Naïve mortal whore! You have no idea what the world outside the walls of this keep is like. Nature does not favor the free minded and worthy. It favors the strong, courageous, skilled, and merciless. Those who are able to enforce their will upon the weak and powerless like that peasant you so mentioned. Can you provide even one of those virtues?"

Dizziness started to overcome her again, Marcus's will attempting to enforce the 'weakness' he perceived in her. Amelia ignored the feeling, remaining calm and standing upright in the face of his threat. "I slew three husbands and my father for disrespecting my desires. I acted to save Viktor's life when men came in an attempt to murder him in his own hall. I watched as they were executed and when the leader's heart was presented at the evening meal, I ate it and drank his blood like wine. Is that not enough strength, courage, skill and mercilessness for your taste, or must I continue?"

Marcus's eyes narrowed with dislike and he snarled softly but it was the gesture of a beaten dog seeking approval, not the predator he had been moments her words cowed him? She wasn't sure despite how he had retreated back a step. When she directed a glance towards Viktor, he gave her a broad, knowing smile. He clearly had suspected that she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. It did not appear to bother him, however. Quite the contrary, he was proud of her accomplishments.

"Well..." Marcus said, obliging her to avert her eyes from Viktor and look at him once more. "Perhaps you killed a man before, but my brother is no mortal creature anymore. You certainly wouldn't be so certain of your skills if you had seen the beast he has become."

"What beast could be more dreadful than a husband who disgusts you, or a father who sells you off like cattle?" she asked. Her voice only rose a little with passion, but her tone became more venomous with each word.

"Oh, poor child," Marcus sneered at her, making a show of the gesture.

When she glared at him hatefully, he snorted, prepared to use the slight at the tip of his tongue. No insult was too rich for this fragile mortal child.

"Enough," Viktor's voice, though quiet, echoed from every wall, and the command couldn't be ignored. "You will no longer squabble like beggars for the choicest scrap of crust. It is beneath you, beneath both of you."

Marcus stared at him, breathing hard and struggling to restrain himself from another insult or slur regarding the 'honour' of a warlord.

"You will make her an immortal, or you will return home without a single Moldavian soldier." Viktor said. With each precise word, he reclaimed control and the authority over the other man.

The Hungarian gritted his teeth, nearly biting the inside of his cheek in the process.

"Did I make myself clear, Corvinus?" The warlord folded his arms over his chest, awaiting the answer to his demand.

"Yes, Viktor." Marcus bowed his head though a black look crossed his face.