“Hmm.”
I carefully studied the flower vase presented for my inspection.
Barren and tasteless. Just like the withered daffodil within.
With one leg crossed over the other, I sat upon the edge of a dining table while counting the sheer number of scratches that made up the pottery. Mostly because of the curious sheen which flattered the vase, courtesy of a twilight sky.
Shorn of a roof, the first stars twinkled overhead, their light rubbing elbows against a brush of lavender as evening faded towards night. It was a sight gentle enough for to almost forgive the workmanship before .
Almost.
“Unsalvageable,” I declared with a flick of my wrist. “Next in the queue.”
Before , the hoodlum holding the flower vase winced as Coppelia reached out for the vase.
A mont later–
“[Coppelia Throw]~!”
The flower vase vanished into the horizon, easily sent through a window now considerably widened owing to the number of chairs which had enlarged it.
And … ah, what did I have here?
Yet another chair.
“Hmm …”
I leaned in to study it.
This one was new. An bergère chair upholstered with a cushion, carefully patterned with shapes indistinguishable from the stains of a tavern floor. Likely because that’s where it’d been stolen from.
I gave it a nod. And then flicked my wrist.
“Unsalvageable. Next in the queue.”
“[Coppelia Throw]~!”
With a gulp, the next hoodlum stepped up, this ti with a small cabinet.
My judgent was imdiate.
Whichever barn it’d been stolen from, it’d either been ho to a flock of highly peckish hens. Or a queue of hoodlums whose nails nervously tapped at whichever furniture they were holding while waiting for their turn, their faces creased in different stages of muscle pain as they held the various bits of tableware, ornants and furnishings to their chests.
More than once, a back or a knee audibly creaked along with a groan. And for good reason.
Nobody deserved to be forced to decorate with such a poor catalogue available.
Whether it was mismatching colours, unvarnished surfaces or simply things with holes in them, what I saw was an unending lack of standards more galling than the worst priceless brooch any baroness at my mandatory tea parties could spend their entire family fortune purchasing for .
In fact … there was only one joy to be seen.
“[Coppelia Throw]~!”
Yes.
A certain clockwork doll’s expression as she rrily tossed furniture into the designated pile off into the distance–the exact location to be determined by the hoodlums who will gather them up.
I expected them to work with the sa diligence as my loyal handmaiden.
After all, they were currently here for the sa purpose we were.
Desperately needed renovations.
Ohohohohoho!
Indeed, a vampire’s lair was more than just a place of darkness!
It was an abode shalessly raised from the stolen wealth of whichever kingdom it blighted. And while few vampires dared to claim the mantle of royalty while wandering princesses were there to deny it, this still didn’t preclude them from living out their fantasies.
As such, their lairs were as famous as the cursed treasures they contained.
Darkened castles rich with heritage, blood soaked carpets and unsmiling portraits. Parapets and towers illuminated amidst the fog by a shriek of lightning. A visage of bleak walls and despair, broken only by orange windows aglow like laughing pumpkins, inviting the foolish and the weak into the waiting maw beyond.
This recently burned down barn … absolutely wasn’t that.
But that didn’t an it couldn’t be.
Especially with such enthusiastic help.
“Oooooh~!” Coppelia raised a hand to her brows, peering into the distance. “That cabinet was a new record. Not in distance. But in feeling. I could taste the crunch from here!”
With a nod, she turned to the queue and went to her tip-toes. As she began to point, hoodlums began to recede in height.
“Alrighty! You over there! The one trying your best to hide! Congrats! You get to jump the queue!”
Imdiately, hoodlums began to edge away from a colleague holding another small cabinet to his chest. His shoulders dropped montarily, his scarred face a mosaic of regret before he waddled his way towards us without rest. He gave a small groan as he presented his burden.
This ti, I wore a smile of delight.
Indeed … for Coppelia to order around hapless minions was a sign of her progression!
As the handmaiden to a princess, she was no re servant. She was also my voice.
And also my arm.
“[Coppelia Throw]~!”
I nodded with pride as the renovations smoothly progressed. And although every hoodlum shuddered with anticipation at their furniture being judged by a princess, all would have their turn.
After all, the vampire squatter had chosen this forest for a reason.
Here was the exact part of my kingdom which a creature of darkness had deed optimal for building his own hovel. A corner judged by a master lout to be worthy of the lowest living standards.
And that ant … an opportunity!
Ohohohoho!
Indeed!
While lesser princesses would tremble and never think of it again, I was nothing if not a beacon of enterprise–and I knew that so long as my kingdom was as fair as my skin, malcontents would continue finding their way here to nibble at it.
Thus … instead of constantly seeking them out, I’d simply lure them here instead!
Yes, rather than rely tear down this hovel and close my eyes, I’d instead replace it with every delinquent's dream!
… A seemingly abandoned fortress!
Sohow forgotten by every map, civil servant and farr I’d build a monunt to a once proud miscreant now fallen into disrepair. An immaculately crafted replica of vanity complete with creaking towers, overgrown vines and broken statues, fit to be inhabited by every scher who wished to imperil my kingdom … and oh my, what would they find as soon as they stepped on the welcoming mat?
Indeed, a trap door leading directly into an inescapable dungeon!
Ohohohohohohohohoohoo!!
Why … it was so simple!
The very idea only a princess whose mind was unburdened by thoughts of both cost and practicality could make a reality!
Instead of wasting ti and resources on an actual fortress to ward away future hoodlums, I’d instead lure them into 99 floors of bespoke traps borrowed directly from the tunnels beneath the Royal Villa!
Frankly, it was a shock why nobody had considered this sooner.
Given how swiftly caves and ruins were occupied by troublemakers, to offer a modest fortress would be like drawing moths to an open fla … and the very first to sample this work-in-progress could be the very one who helped identify this promising new site.
Flutterflutterflutterflutterflutter.
The very mont the brush of lavender dipped from the horizon, it was replaced by the sight of darkness.
Not from the night sky. But the shadow of a thousand bats.
They burst forth from a balcony overlooking the dining chamber with neither warning nor fanfare. A veritable stream of shadow which swiftly beca a tarp over our heads, before suddenly converging together into a pulsating ball at the front of the queue.
A mont later–
“Put. Down. The. Plates.”
There he was.
A vampire in the guise of a man whose face was both aged and remarkably smooth.
And yet despite the fangs which peeked from his grimace, the first thing I noticed was his posture. Chin high. Back straight. One hand upon his waist, elbow up as though to hold up a cloak, while the other grasped at an invisible sword by his side.
The very picture of nobility.
Literally so.
This was the standing portrait pose. And yet even without his vampiric features, I could have picked him out amongst an entire soirée.
After all–
Everybody would be openly jeering him.
Ohohohohoho!
A court tunic which had gone out of style several decades ago! Ashen white hair elaborately curled in the manner of retired admirals hoping to hide a balding patch with a powdered wig! Breeches so tight that they functioned only to funnel blood away from his legs!
Why, he was practically a caricature fit for the stage!
“Ah … Ah …. Aaahhhhhh!”
Little wonder, then, that against this fashion criminal, all the nearby ruffians could do was flee.
Finding so inner instinct which no vampire’s magic could mute, ornants and furniture were dropped on the spot, appropriately smashing into easily sweepable pieces as they left to busy themselves with collecting the already thrown bits and pieces outside.
The vampire didn’t seem to care.
His gaze was set wholly on the tableware in Coppelia’s hands.
“Those are my favourite plates,” he said, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Put them down.”
Coppelia blinked.
Then she looked at . I looked at the plates in question. White ceramic. Beautifully painted. Blue floral motifs.
… But also not porcelain.
Thus, I offered her a nod. And also a flick of my wrist.
“[Coppelia Throw]~!”
The vampire watched silently as a stack of stoneware plates were tossed through the window and towards the nether, joining several other piles of similarly discarded plates. He then wrinkled his nose, beat away a cloak which didn’t exist and gestured flamboyantly towards everything and everyone.
I was in full agreent.
It all needed to go.
“That was ill-advised,” he said, his every syllable stretched like a worm wriggling to escape. “But perhaps I’ve none but myself to bla, rare as it is for to admit fault. It appears I was mistaken. The one benefit I saw of my manor being engulfed in flas proved untrue. I see rodents are still present.”
I blinked in surprise.
“Hm. How curious. It seems I was mistaken too. I was under the impression that vampires couldn’t see their reflection. Yet it seems you must have caught yourself in a mirror.”
The vampire slowly raised a brow.
“Ah. Such nostalgia. It’s been countless centuries since I was last insulted by a mortal girl. Particularly before I even began to hint at how thoroughly irritated I am. I almost forgot to be surprised.”
“Well, you clearly forgot how to offer an appropriate welco as well. Why, the only carpet I see laid out before is the black scorch mark on the floor.”
“If you’d prefer, I can have it replaced. I’m certain the ashes of random girls wandering into a vampire’s abode will do just fine. But I suppose you know that, given that nobody would dare pass through my barrier without reason. So tell –are you the latest heroine ordained to slay ?”
My mouth widened in horror.
“How dare you. That is an outrageous accusation.”
“... What?”
“I am a princess. Not a heroine. There is a vast difference. Furthermore, know that the reason you don’t face the latter is because of my exceptional good will! Had you been confronted by a certain farm girl, not only would you have been fated to turn to dust, but you’d also be eternally rembered as the failed vampire who officially sealed her rise. That is humiliating.”
The vampire’s eyes narrowed further.
His hand almost seed to flinch from his waist, but he did nothing else.
“A princess,” he said, making utterly no notion of bowing or imdiately walking into a stake as decorum demanded. “How quaint. I’ve known more than I can count, so you must accept my apologies … Your Highness. But as much as I’d normally relish the opportunity to enjoy my fill of royal blood, I happen to be exceptionally busy right now.”
“A scandalous notion. Nothing can possibly be more important than draining my blood.”
“On a normal night, perhaps so. But you happen to have interrupted during sothing very sensitive. I’m on the cusp of ascending to the Nocturne Court.”
I gasped.
“My, why didn’t you say so! I do apologise! … Had I known you were at threat of being recognised as a greater rodent, I would have co to avert your embarrassnt earlier!”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Princess. The Nocturne Court is the governing power of all vampires. To be raised amongst its ranks is the highest aspiration of my kind. And this ans that for once, I do not have the ti to indulge in idle chatter.”
“I agree. You’ve other matters of importance to attend to. Beginning with tidying. There’s an endless amount you can assist with. You needn’t be picky. Everything needs to go.”
The vampire raised his fingertip.
“In that case–allow to assist.”
Suddenly, a strand of blood seeped out from beneath his nail like a weave of magic.
Blood magic.
“I am Master Harkus of Revarin,” he added after the briefest pause, introducing himself as the minimum of courtesy demanded. “Now, please excuse for my brusqueness. But I’m going to murder you now.”
I held out my palm.
“Wait.”
“There’s nothing to wait for. We are done.”
“Indeed we are. But I believe you’ve still unfinished business elsewhere.”
The vampire looked at in unabashed suspicion.
“Nnngh …”
A mont later–it beca a look of utmost exasperation as he turned his gaze downwards.
There, crawling out from beneath the dining table was a maiden in pink pyjamas. She looked up, yawned and rubbed her eyes.
“That … was the worst 5 minute nap I ever experienced.”
The master vampire recoiled as though struck by a glass of holy water.
In an instant, all traces of his faux noble deanour vanished, replaced by the sa look of horror as everyone to glance at his cutlery set. All unburnished brass. That’d been the first to go.
“Miriam! What are you … why are … were you just napping on my floor?!”
My librarian blinked several tis. She gave another yawn, then nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?! That is unacceptable! We have an image to maintain! I have already inford you of this! You cannot nap beneath a table like the vagrant mortals I’ve dominated! I did not turn you into a vampire so that you could embarrass us … embarrass in such a shaless fashion!”
Miriam shrugged, all the while her counterpart swept his gaze around him like a panicked gazelle.
“I was tired,” she explained. “The table was also the only source of shelter against the sunlight.”
“Well, I hope you’re well rested! You’ve much to explain, beginning with why you continually insist on disappointing ! … The floor, Miriam? Of all places?”
“The countess may nap wherever she pleases,” I duly inford him. “That is the right of all maidens. Should she choose to attempt to find sleep beneath a table, then you should consider it an honour that this hovel scarcely deserves.”
The master rodent grimaced once more, one step away from a hiss.
“Listen to , Miriam,” he said, his crimson eyes glowing as he struggled to peer down without bending his back. “You need to fix your appearance imdiately. This is of paramount importance.”
“Hm? Why should I?”
“Because … I am currently being assessed.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Okay?” The man raised his hands in grief. “Is that it? Is that the language worthy of our ancient bearing?”
“Yes. After all, I’m also here as a distraction.”
The vampire stared in utter incomprehension. He blinked at Miriam. And then at .
A mont later–
“[Moonlit Sickle].”
Shhhhunk.
He also blinked at a smiling Coppelia … courtesy of his head promptly separating from his neck.
Unlike a sister blessed with holy powers, his head was very much of the ordinary variety.
However … despite the fact that it was cleanly severed, it failed to thud against the floor.
In one respect, this was good. Miriam was also on the floor. Nobody deserved to see such an unnaturally shiny face from up close. Her next nap would be awful.
And yet it was also less than ideal.
Because instead of the vampire’s head now being punted to the horizon, it remained suspended beside him, held aloft by a strand of blood like a string to a cup.
The vampire, his face upside-down, wrinkled his nose.
And then–
His hand clasped into a fist seeping with blood.
“[Exsanguinating Grasp].”
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