- XIII -
One night later, the three Elders began to turn the Moldavian men into vampires. They had agreed to turn one man each, who would again turn their soldiers. In the end, an army of immortals would be created, the Elders each commanding a third of the men.
The knight Amelia would turn went by the name of Thomas. Viktor had told her that he had helped conquer some strategically important lands five years ago, and his men had successfully besieged one of the great fortresses in the east. Now he had sent him to her quarters.
Amelia was combing her hair for the second time, when he knocked on her door. She tasted the sour flavour of anxiety since until now, she had only fed from ox blood. Thomas would be the first man she would bite. Would the taste be different? Better? She laid the comb aside and looked at her reflection in the mirror one last time, then stood straight and cleared her throat.
"Come in!" She said, attempting not to show her worry.
When Thomas entered, a bewildered expression crossed his face. Lord Viktor had told him he would be turned into an immortal by one of the three Elders. The prince, however, had neglected to mention that one of the Elders was a woman. Thomas tried not to let his astonishment show and bowed to her. A woman or not, he would be loyal to her like he had always been towards his superiors.
Amelia scrutinized the knight. He was old, maybe sixty-five, but looked much healthier than Viktor had when he had been a mortal. An aquiline nose and alert grey eyes gave him a noble look. His nearly white hair faded at his temples.
"Good evening, Milady. Thomas of Kiev at your service." He bowed, introducing himself and then pressed a chaste kiss to her hand.
She nodded slightly, accepting his greeting.
"I am Amelia," she said coolly. His manners made her feel regal, respected. No man had ever greeted her in such a way before.
"Do you know what I am going to do now?" she asked.
"Yes, Milady, Lord Viktor told me everything," Thomas said. He dropped to his knees before her.
"I am willing and prepared to become an immortal," he told her, humbled by Viktor's offer.
A small crease furrowed between her eyebrows at his words. She had liked his decorum and his manners, the gesture of utter submission, however, she didn't now. It made her feel uncomfortable to see him obey her so readily.
"Thomas, please have a seat," she said, showing him to a set of chairs near her fireplace.
He did as she told him and looked up into her eyes, which glowed unnaturally bright in the twilight of the room. Gracefully, she moved closer, the dark blue fabric of her dress rustling on the floor.
"Will you be a faithful servant? Do you swear to always follow my command?" she asked.
"I swear, Milady," Thomas answered instantly, still looking her in the eyes.
Amelia put her hands on the armrests of the chair, leaning close to him.
"Then open your collar and bend your neck," she ordered, her voice sounding hollow.
She was not used to giving orders, and it felt somehow strange to demand anything from him instead of asking politely. Thomas did as she had commanded, exposing his throat to the Elder. His mortal flesh radiated warmth, and she could hear his pulse. Amelia no longer felt nervous now, because she could feel the thirst as though it was a soft burn in her throat. Not thinking about how to properly behave as a ruler, not thinking about anything at all, she sank her fangs into his neck and drank his blood.