- XLVII -

The torches' flames danced along the stone walls, casting multiple shadows in the cold corridors when Viktor descended the stairs to the dining hall. While musing about the last two nights, the warlord's thin lips curled into a malicious smile. Thanks to Semira's violent outburst he had been able to claim his prize, to seduce Ilona and make her an immortal.

The girl wasn't completely devoted to him yet, but it was only a matter of time until he would break her will. Compared to Amelia she was so naïve and unconfident, retreating in fear instead of speaking up to him. The difference between the two women was even physically evident. While the Elder's cat-like body was wiry and slender, in excellent shape for battle, Ilona's flesh was soft, her broad hips and full breasts promising fertility, the perfect female to bear his heir. Viktor had to admit that after so many years with Amelia he clearly enjoyed the variation.

But for now he had – only reluctantly – left her alone in his quarters to deal with another issue: the remaining mortals. Since he had almost forgotten about them, Andreas Tanis had called his attention to the fact that they still were waiting in the old dining hall. He would ask them now to join their society, and if they refused they would find a gruesome death on their way home.

Marcus Corvinus sat in a chair by the fire, reading. The new manuscript about medicine and herbs written by some German nun seemed rather complex, and the original vampire still had to find out if it contained anything useful concerning a possible cure for William.

A sudden knock on the door caused Marcus to raise his head from the scroll and he called for his visitor to enter. He knew it was Tanis even before the historian took a step into the study, for he was the only visitor Marcus had received in the last weeks.

"Do you enjoy Hildegard von Bingen's treatise, Milord?" Tanis asked.

Marcus stared at him for a moment, bewildered.

"The paper you're reading," the scribe specified.

"Oh, well, it is... interesting," the Elder said, but his tired tone belied his words.

A mischievous grin curled the corners of Tanis's lips. It always was a pleasure to see Marcus struggle with academic texts.

"Maybe you should seek some distraction from your constant research, Milord," he suggested. "There are sixteen mortals in the dining hall, waiting for better weather, and Lord Viktor is..." Another grin, quite insinuating this time, appeared on the historian's face. "...busy with his new wife. Maybe you could take advantage of that situation and gain some new servants or soldiers."

Marcus knitted his brow. Mortals? Viktor's new wife? A lot of events unbeknown to him seemed to have taken place in his own castle since he had retired to his study. Tanis was right. He needed to pause his research and take some action again. Abandoning the scroll on his desk, the original vampire rose from his seat, putting on his fur-trimmed cloak.

"In the dining hall you said?" he asked.

"Yes, Milord," Tanis answered, bowing low to Marcus so he wouldn't notice his grin broaden. The scribe just couldn't wait to see the spectacle that would take place when Viktor and Marcus met, both claiming the mortals.

Amelia stood in Viktor's sitting room, her lilac and gold dress flowing around her tall form like a paradisiac waterfall, her pale skin glowing in stark contrast to her dark hair. But her queenly appearance was beclouded by the dangerous green shimmer in her eyes which had narrowed to slits.

There in front of her, on Viktor's sofa, sat a girl, once one of the mortals who had come to the castle a few nights ago, but now clearly a vampire. She was wearing only a thin nightgown and an empty goblet had fallen from her hands to the floor, the last drops of its red content staining the carpet. With large brown eyes she stared at Amelia, aghast.

The Elder cocked her head, mustering the young female. "A girl in Lord Viktor's rooms," she stated, her voice sounding low and ice-cold. "Well, who might you be?"

The numb feeling of shock had replaced Ilona's nausea when she had seen a woman dressed like a queen walk in from the corridor. She balled her hands into fists to keep them from trembling, but she couldn't help staring at that magnificent visitation, appearing like a saint and the mistress of darkness in equal shares.

When the lady addressed her in a glacial tone, however, her mind emerged from its clouded state, and a rational thought sprang to her head. Who could a beautiful woman, gold and silk-clad, entering Viktor's private quarters without even knocking, possibly be? Was she his former wife? She had to be. There was no other explanation.

Suddenly Ilona stood, unsteady at first, but then her posture straightened and she looked Amelia directly in the eyes. Everything inside the young vampire screamed to throw herself at this lady's feet, beg her to take her cruel husband back, to free her from Viktor's clutches. But Ilona didn't.

Instead, on some strange, primeval and primitive instinct, she acted quite the opposite. She rose to her full height and narrowed her eyes which began to glow in a dark shade of blue. "I am Ilona, Lord Viktor's wife," she said, her voice unwavering.

Amelia didn't speak in return, but the dim emerald spark in the Elder's gaze burst into an acid green inferno at the girl's answer, especially the last word.

The lady stared at Ilona for a couple of moments, the flames that where her eyes seeming to devour everything around her, eating up the golden, saint-like glow of her dress and making her appear like the queen of hell completely now. This woman would surely kill her. It was only a matter of moments now. She knew it.

But then suddenly, Amelia turned on her heel, exiting the room in one elegant movement, and the rustling of her expensive robes echoing in Ilona's ears was everything she left behind.