The Emperors Explanation

“On the night of the Red moon you will meet the princes, and receive the next um… dose. To quench your thirst.” He scratches his beard, clears his throat, and eyes his feet attempting to avoid my glare.

“Dose? D-Dose of what? Blood?” I question frantically, jumping to conclusions. Righteously.

He chuckles, “No child.. Venom. In order for the ‘transaction’ or ‘re-birth’ to be valid, you must carry the imperial family’s venom in your bloodstream before the blood moon passes and complete the final step of the tradition.”

“Is… that w-whats been m-making me feel so ill?” I rubbed the bite mark still apparent on my neck out of habit, remembering the pain that has plagued my body since I arrived here.

“Well, yes. I passed the venom into your bloodstream through a bite.. when you arrived here.” He didn’t seem remorseful, or upset towards his actions at all. In fact he acted as if *It was normal.* his face remained expressionless.

Well… for him I guess it is *normal*. But this certainly is *not* and will never be my *’**normal.**’*

A discomfort begins to rise in my stomach, bringing nausea with it. I readjust the silk cover Oda gave me, to cover my neck where I had been bitten previously. *’It feels as if my nerves might **explode** any second.’* I thought to myself, watching the tip of my heels peek out of the edge of my dress as I walked.

*’Wait!!…Had he even considered my consent in the matter? What if I don’t want to be a venom addict! Or even a vampire!’* I pondered his reasoning, on the verge of tears, as he continued to speak. Swimming in the confusion and sickness swirling around in my mind.

He clears his throat after my silence lingers on, “Princess, vampires aren’t quite like the legends you have heard of. Being injected with vampire venom doesn’t immediately cause ‘re-birth’. It acts like an addicting drug, causing you to feel fatigued and thirsty like the early stages of withdrawal.” He interlocks his fingers, and taps his chin.

“Now if you quit the venom completely, the withdrawals will become severe. Worse than that of a normal addict. Most mere humans *do not survive* that process.” He narrows his eyes and raises his eyebrows at me, as if using his face to create a warning as we walk. “It would take an *immense* amount of physical endurance and mental strength to survive venom withdrawals.”

“Any questions?” He slows his strides down, as if to keep up with my short pace and stubby legs.

I stared at him blankly, trying to wrap my head around the book of information I was just fed. *’I just wish… I could be with my family.’* My mind wandered to the thought of how alone I was in this situation. No loving parents to step in and save me like before. No country, no people to fight for. No reason to even… live.

I huffed and slowed down a bit, out of breath. *’I wish he would just…. **kill me already.**’*

I stare down at the greyish tan stones under my heels, rubbing my neck as it begins to throb again sending waves of pain from my neck and over the rest of my body. *’Or maybe the venom will kill me… if I wait long enough.’* I think silently, taking in a deep breath of the flower scented air around us.

“Why me?” I look at him, attempting to remain visibly emotionless.

“Because you, Sweet flower.. are our **Vestal.**” He shoots me a coy smile, having already read my thoughts. “And frankly dear, death *or even suicide* isn’t an option for you. I won’t take your life, even if you wanted me to.”

He looks at me as we continue our walk, reaching the large stone building and approaching the table where our tea sat. “Say you try to kill yourself, what do you think will happen?” He reaches, picking up his frail teacup in his hands and taking a large sip.

“I-I wouldn’t-“ I begin to answer untruthfully, he interrupts me almost immediately.

“With the venom in your system… once you attempt your suicide, the venom will activate preventing you from dying. You would become what is known as a half-blood vampire, which in legends are the bloodthirsty beasts humankind is *terrified* of.” He huffs and slams the teacup down, shattering it into many pieces, and looking back up with a monstrous expression. “You wouldn’t attempt suicide with me watching you, would you… Princess Illyria?”

I freeze, like a deer in the headlights. “N-n-no..” I shook my head ferociously, terrified of his sudden change in demeanor. My body became stiff, and my palms began to sweat.

*’How do I respond to that? Is my life… not **my own** anymore?’* I thought and slowly began to look down at his hand, then around at the pieces of glass decorating the stone below. *’He.. he didn’t get cut?’* I come to a frightening realization in my thoughts.

“No. We purebloods have a tremendous barrier within our skin that protects us from most injuries.” He answers my thoughts, with no hesitation.

“I must get going. I have much more paperwork to do and much to prepare for the Blood Moon Ball.” His aura changes again as he approaches me, and he bows. He grabs my hand, he plants a soft kiss on top of my hand and looks up at me.

“You will join us at the Ball, there you will meet my four sons on the night of the Blood Moon.” He backs away, “I will see you then.” With that he walks quickly back towards the main halls, his body disappearing around a corner, his red cloak following him with a graceful flutter.

After standing there for a few moments, in shock, I finally flopped into one of the chairs at the table we just had tea at. *’Did that… really just happen? Am I seriously in the snake's den? Or should I say… **the vampire's coffin**?’*

I sat there, confused and pondering this strange and unbelievable information he just gave me.

“What the *hell* is going on in this castle?” I mutter to myself, slouching deeply and running a hand through my crazy curls as they blow crazily around me.

“I need to find a way *out of here.*” I whisper, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as I imagine all the scenarios of my escape. I am currently completely oblivious to the world around me, not even noticing the footsteps approaching behind me.

I was startled when a tall dark shadow loomed over me, shielding my closed eyes from the bright sun.

I jump from my chair startled, banging my knee on the underside of the ornate table in front of me. The motion of my knee hitting the table knocks over my tea cup, spilling the remaining tea inside down the skirt of my dress.

“Oh Illyria! I'm so sorry!” Oda wails, dashing to help wipe up my dress. “I truly didn’t mean to startle you!” She frantically apologizes, making me giggle a little at her sweet doting behavior.

“Oda please, it’s alright. Accidents happen.” I console her, rubbing her shoulder and smiling softly. “Let us head back to my room. I feel exhausted after that conversation.”

When I move to walk I wince in pain, looking down at the stones below me. “Ow!” I yelp, almost falling over.

*’Is that… **blood?**’* An intense pain radiates from my knee up my leg, and back down to my knee. I lift the slit in the left side of my skirt to see a large cut at the top of my kneecap, oozing blood.

“Oh my! Princess!!” Oda throws her hands up to her cheeks, panicking and entering a frenzy. She grabs my hand gently, and calls out for more servants. “Baylor, find Reynald! Come, *HURRY*! Grab another servant and help me move the princess to her room! She can’t walk on this injury!”

The male servant disappears into a palace corridor for a few seconds. I assume, to get some more help.

“Oda really, it's not that serious. I can walk.” I try to laugh off the pain and stand straight, but my knee buckles from the pain deep in my skin. I shut my eyes tightly as I plunge towards the stone below, bracing my hands for the impact.

Before I can even make a peep, a large set of arms effortlessly swings me up bridal style.

“Y-your majesty…” Oda stutters, I can hear the shock in her voice even with my eyes still closed.

My hands are pressed against someone's firm, shirtless, muscular chest. Slightly damp from sweat, but under all the heat I sense something… *Ice cold.*

I open my eyes slowly, capturing the sight of a strong broad chest in front of my face.

My eyes trail up this strong, yet cold physique, and land on the face of the man carrying me. His deep blue eyes are fixated ahead, his face remaining still and emotionless as he walks. His straight, shoulder length black hair shines slightly as it waves through the wind, sending shivers down my spine.

*’This man is **handsome**…’* I blush softly, realizing my hands have made their way around his neck subconsciously.

Then a thought strikes me, *doesn't he look **very** familiar?*