The Vampire's Moonlit Throne

Elara sat perched on the edge of the large velvet chair, its dark, crimson cushions swallowing her frame. In front of her lay an assortment of books, some thick, bound in worn leather with gilded edges, others thin, brittle pages fraying at the corners. She sighed, tapping her finger absently against the spine of the closest tome.

"History of Arcaedon's Dark Lords." The title gleamed ominously in the dim light. Her fingers traced the cover, but her mind was far from interested.

"Is everything to your liking?" Mira, the quiet, ever-watchful and jittery servant, stood near the door.

Elara looked up from the book and forced a smile. "These books… they're so old. Half of them are written in languages I can't even begin to understand." She gestured to one particularly ancient text, its pages marked with strange symbols and cryptic phrases.

Mira tilted her head slightly, a flash of sympathy in her eyes. "They are the master's collection, many from ages long past. He thought they might keep your mind occupied while you… adjust."

Adjust. Yeah right.

That word lingered like a sour note on Elara's tongue. She wasn't here by to adjust but then again, she had no where and no one to turn to. With everyone she once knew gone and her village nothing more than a pile of ashes, her resistance to stay here was merely her stubbornness. The emotion which was ignited by the thought of being in control. In his control.

She had despised the very idea.

Otherwise, this castle had been a safety for her so far.

Other than the only danger. The danger, which of course, came in the form of the castle's lord, Ravenor Frostveil.

Ravenor. Even thinking his name sent a chill down her spine. She hadn't seen him in since their last encounter. His absence, though, did little to relieve her anxiety as she always felt like he was there somewhere, lurking in the shadows, watching her every move and ready to pounce any moment.

"Maybe something lighter next time? Something that doesn't have your master's influence on it." Elara said with a weak chuckle, flipping through pages she couldn't even begin to decipher.

Ofcourse he would read such books.

Mira's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "I'll see what I can do, Lady."

There was a pause before Mira spoke again, quieter, as if sharing a secret. "If you tire of the books, the castle… it is large. You could explore. The halls, the gardens. Some find it… refreshing."

Elara's gaze snapped to the servant's face, a spark of excitement igniting in her chest. "I thought I wasn't allowed to leave the chamber?"

Mira hesitated, casting a quick glance over her shoulder as if to ensure no one was listening. "Master had ordered to remove the lock on your door. And about exploring the castle, the master has not forbidden it… not directly. Except for the west wing. It is strictly forbidden for everyone."

Elara's heartbeat quickened. So he wasn't treating her as a prisnor anymore? Certainly refreshing. Maybe he thinks that he had scared her enough and she wouldn't try to escape again. Or maybe it's a trap?

Nevertheless, the thought of roaming the vast, ancient halls of this mysterious castle was a temptation too great to resist. The suffocating boredom of the books and the oppressive weight of her confinement made the prospect all the more tantalizing. She had spent too much time locked away, with only her thoughts, mourning of her loss and the dark energy of the castle for company. A chance to stretch her legs, to see more than these cold, stone walls, was a gift.

"Will you leave the door unlocked now?" Elara asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the idea aloud might shatter the possibility.

Mira's lips pressed into a thin line, but she gave a subtle nod. "It will remain unlocked… for now until you don't get caught trying to leave the castle."

Elara smiled, the first real smile she had felt in what seemed like days. "Thank you, Mira."

Mira gathered the remaining books into a neat pile and made her way toward the door. "Be careful, Lady. Don't wander away too far and especially the west wing." She slipped out, leaving the door ajar behind her.

Elara's heart raced. She listened for the sound of retreating footsteps, and when she was sure Mira was gone, she leapt from her chair. The dim light of the candles flickered as if they, too, sensed her excitement.

For a moment, she hesitated. The rational part of her mind screamed that this could be a trap. Who knew what lurked in the shadows of this place? She hadn't even scratched the surface yet, and the deeper, darker parts of the castle were likely a trouble seeking its victims. But the urge to explore, to feel free for even a moment, was overwhelming.

Carefully, she pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway.

The castle was silent. It always was. The only sound was the soft echo of her footsteps against the stone floor. The corridors were long, winding, illuminated by the occasional flicker of candlelight or the soft glow of moonbeams filtering through narrow windows. The air was cool, and the faint scent of old stone and lavender lingered in the air.

Elara walked cautiously, her eyes wide, taking in the grandeur of the place. Massive tapestries adorned the walls, depicting long-forgotten battles and strange, otherworldly landscapes. Suits of armor stood at attention in alcoves, their hollow visages seeming to watch her as she passed.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. She had no clear destination in mind, and had no idea of directions, only the desire to see more of the place that had become her prison or new home.

After what felt like an eternity, she found herself standing before a massive set of double doors. They were carved with intricate designs, dragons entwined with wolves, their eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. A strange pull emanated from behind the doors, a whisper in the back of her mind urging her to open them, to see what lay beyond.

She reached out, her hand trembling as her fingers brushed the cold wood.

But before she could push them open, a voice echoed through the hall.

"Stop!"

Elara spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Standing in the shadows was a figure, tall, with eyes that glowed faintly red.

In a heartbeat she knew who those red eyes belonged to.

Elara's heart stopped.