(Huzzah! A review! Thanks so much, I'm glad you're enjoying it. I can't help but feel like this chapter turned out a bit sporadic in the conversation and everything. It's all Herbert's fault. XP I just can't handle that level of fabulousness.)
Chapter 5:
Laila was in total shock and fear. She had fled the room the moment the Count ended his statement and ran upstairs. She was now hiding in her bed under the covers, silently freaking the hell out. Vampires are real. But, they can't be real! Why? Because they... can't! They just can't!
The door opening interrupted her frantic, broken thoughts and she stayed absolutely still. She heard a heavy thud and then some very light steps approach her bed.
"Laila, darling," Herbert said, poking at the large lump under the covers. "I've brought your things from the village. I can't begin to tell you how dreadful and cold it was out there in the snow. And it took the innkeeper for-ev-er to produce your things."
Laila poked her head out of the covers and Herbert sat down on the edge of the bed, patting her head. His father had already told him she knew, and he knew how difficult it could be for some people to accept the fact that what they thought was fiction was in fact reality. "There, there, poppit. It's not all that bad. I mean, I did manage to convince father to let you keep some of your things. He wanted you to simply wear the dresses that we already have, but I insisted that you have your own clothes since all of the dresses are so old and most likely wouldn't fit you without a corest."
Then Laila remembered; her bag! And how did she get in this nightgown? She looked up at Herbert wildly, expecting things to only get worse. "What happened to the stuff that was with me? My bag and my clothes?"
"Oh, they're in the wild now," Herbert spoke nonchalantly, fussing with Laila's hair. "Father wanted to make your death convincing, so he told me to make it look like the wolves had gotten to you. I don't know if I've done a very good job, though. Disposing of evidence was never my strong suit."
"And... who changed my clothes?"
Herbert looked down at her, surprised she asked the question, then laughed. "I did, you silly! You think father would soil his name as a gentleman and see you naked on your first night here? Aw, how cute! Your cheeks are all pink with blush! You dirty girl."
Laila pulled the covers up around her cheeks so that only her eyes and forehead were visible. "Shut up. The only reason I thought about it was because you brought it up." Herbert laughed and patted her on the head again.
"So, you're not going to try and suck my blood, are you?" Laila asked, feeling more comfortable with Herbert than she did around the count. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was so fabulously sassy. "I mean, you're gay, right? And don't gay vampires only feed from men?"
Herbert gave her an odd look. "I prefer men to feed from, but I have fed from women before. It's survival, dear, plain and simple." Laila tensed. "Don't worry, I won't try to feed from you, though," Herbert added, examining his nails casually. "You're strictly father's companion. Besides, I already have my own little toy."
Laila scowled and took the covers from her face. "I am no one's toy." The statement was weakened by a small yawn. Somewhere in the room, a clock struck midnight.
"You keep thinking that, darling, Herbert said, tucking her in. "It's late, you should really get some sleep." Laila didn't enjoy being treated like a child, but she was too tired to care.
Before Herbert left, she had to know, "He's not going to bit me while I sleep, is he?"
Herbert chuckled. "Don't worry dear. Father likes a healthy struggle."