Of course, I know not what Vlad thought of during our journey. He was still, silent, and reflective. His gaze was steadfast upon the terrain we traveled over. I wondered if he was remembering his other life.
We arrived in Bistri?a in the early hours of the morning. The sun was still below the horizon and the air was crisp. The town was shrouded in a heavy mist and it was difficult to make out the ancient buildings that so carried the flavor of the Carpathians. Our driver drew the carriage up to Golden Krone Hotel. Immediately, the door flew open and a man hurried down to open the carriage door.
“Count and Countess Dracula, welcome, welcome!”
The proprietor was a man in his early thirties and he seemed flushed with both fear and excitement. Behind him, porters dressed in traditional garb rushed out to help unload our luggage.
Vlad exited first and turned to offer his hand. His gaze was startling and passionate when I looked upon his face. I realized, in that moment, he was desperate for me to play the role. . . no, to be his wife to the world beyond the castle. I obliged him, took his hand, and slid effortlessly from the carriage.
“Countess Dracula, how lovely to see you. Your husband wrote that you were accompanying him, and we have prepared the best room in the hotel for your stay!” He kissed my hand a few too many times, then motioned us into the hotel.
“How many hours until sunrise?” Vlad asked.
“Two, sir,” was the reply.
“Very well. Please see my lovely wife to her rooms. I have pressing business to attend to. ” Vlad turned to me and drew me close to kiss my cheek. He whispered, “Stay in the hotel. Do not leave. I will soon return. ” He kissed me gently on the cheek and released my hand.
I looked at him curiously, then he was gone.
“The best room! You have the best room,” my host assured me. He was so nervous I could smell it.
He knows, I thought. He knows what we are.
The hotel was quaint, very exotic in its flavor. I found it charming and comfortable. The proprietor anxiously guided me through the hotel to my rooms. He flung open the windows to show off the view, only to see darkness and mist. His face drew quite crimson.
“Of course, it is much more…during the day…” He hesitated, then said, “It does not matter!”
After I assured him over and over again that I was quite settled and that I was quite all right and that I did not need anything more, he left me.
Wearily, I took off my traveling bonnet and laid it on the bed, then sat down. I fluffed my skirts beneath my velvet coat, glanced about the room, and then flung myself back on the bed.
I was annoyed that I was left behind in the hotel. I wanted to hunt, to explore, anything but sit in our hotel room. I opened a trunk and discarded my traveling clothes for a nice silky dress. I felt put out by the lack of any adequate servants, but managed. Glancing about, I quickly realized that much like the castle, there was not a looking glass to be seen. I stomped my foot in irritation.
For a small bit of time, I attempted to read a book. It was bland and boring. I tossed it away.
I stood at the window and stared out at the darkened streets. The mist was thick and heavy so there was not much of a view.
Of course Vlad's absence would be a curse wrapped up in a blessing.
I was dreadfully bored.
At last I wandered downstairs and found a small parlor. The room was shrouded in darkness save for the pool of yellowish light pouring out from the flames in the fireplace.
Sighing, I wandered up to the mantle and stood there. Reflexively, I attempted to warm my cold hands. Of course, they would never be warm again, unless I was freshly gorged on blood. I was a pale, cold woman, a wraith, wandering the night in search for blood.
Actually, that sounds rather romantic. But beyond that, I was feeling rather morose and quite lonely.
My previous journey had been with my family and this was quite different and I felt utterly, dreadfully lonely.
I stood for a rather long time staring into the flames, watching them dance and shiver. The fire mesmerized me. I let my mind think of nothing but the gentle sway of the fire's dance as it crackled and whispered to me.
“It is rather late for a lady to be wandering about. ”
A man's voice broke my reverie.
I turned around on my heel.
In the very corner of the room was a chair, and in this chair, utterly shrouded in darkness, sat a man. I could barely see the dim outline of his body, long and lean it appeared. Only his pale hands resting on his knees were visible.