Two-Hundred-And-Twenty-Seven
**3rd Person POV**
The vampire was playing dirty. He was not just out for some blood; he was out for death, and Reginald was not having it. He observed the fight intensely waiting for the time to intervene. If things got out of hand or his twin became injured, he was going to do much worse to the vampire and deal with the consequences later.
The fight had been going on for two hours now and neither of them seemed to have lost any strength. So far, it seemed like the vampire was losing ground. He had attacked Charlotte plenty of times only to find that she dodged him with ease. So he decided it was time to stop with the attacks. He just watched her, waiting for her to make a move.
Charlotte saw that the vampire was stalling. If she did not attack, she would be labelled a coward so she made her move. He saw it coming and he avoided her blade. The way he sidestepped brought memories of the bear that she had shot arrows at. She stopped fighting and looked at the vampire closely. He and the bear would've been about the same height and the way he walked was about the same. Charlotte scoffed; he was the bear. There was no way the vampire king was going to get away with lying about not knowing about the vampire raids.
She stood still and smiled. She knew exactly how to end this game.
****
“I would not have thought that you would not have allowed your host the decency of winning,” the vampire king said. He had a sour smile. It was a bigger defeat for him because up until now, he'd had absolute faith that his son would win the fight. But to be defeated not just by anyone but by a girl hurt him really deeply.
Charlotte smiled and said, “Perhaps, it is your son who saved my face.”
This was the part about politics that she hated. The part where she had to look at her enemies in the face and smile and lie to them so they could save face. But she had to do it because she could not tell if he had been lying earlier about knowing Harlin's weaknesses or if his implications were just a bluff. Regardless, he was their host, and he could decide to hold them prisoner and start a war or, worse still, poison them all.
The vampire king smiled at her.
“Of course, my son has always been a gentleman,” the king said.
The vampire prince scoffed. He had not allowed Charlotte to win; she had beaten him hands down. He was fascinated with her. He had never met a woman who could challenge him and win.
****
Reginald was struggling with his feelings for Lady Lowell. It did not help that she was here with her husband. It was getting increasingly harder to ignore what he felt for the woman. It was strange though_ the feelings he had. He had never spoken to her or had the opportunity to be within speaking distance of her but she managed to consume his thoughts. He reminded himself constantly that she was a married woman and therefore forbidden from touching but the more he remembered she was married, the more he wanted her. However, he did nothing about his feelings. He had made a vow a long time ago to stay away from married women. It had not been a decision he made because he felt morally inclined to but because once when he was caught his mother had for the first and last time in her life held disappointment in her eyes when she looked at him. It had been the most painful feeling in the world and he could not bear to let her down like that again.
However, fate tested his resolve later that night after a heavy meal with the vampire king in appreciation of the just concluded game with Charlotte. He had retracted from the group and he sat by himself in a quiet part of one of the many beautiful gardens in the palace when he felt someone's presence. He looked up to see Lady Lowell standing in front of him with her back to him. She could not see him, nor could he see her face, but even the view of her back held Reginald enchanted. He watched as the night wind blew the scarf around her neck; he could not help but inhale deeply the scent of her perfume. She had on a perfume with an orange note. He had never smelt the fragrance on anyone before.
He knew that if he reached out, he could hold her scarf at least, but he exercised self-control. If he began anything with Lady Lowell, he would not be able to end it. She would become a habit he had to end but did not want to. Besides, she was a woman who emanated class, it was hard to think of her betraying her husband for a thirst with him. And yet… he could not help but wonder.
“It's a beautiful night, isn't it?” quipped Lady Lowell. Her voice was like the bird that sang in the morning. He was tongue-tied. He had not known that she had noticed his presence at all.
“My lady?”
“It is a beautiful night, do you not agree?” she turned around this time to face him and if not for her mouth and eyes, he could have mistaken her face for that of the moon.
He looked at the sky. He had to agree. The stars here seemed to shine with a quality they did not at home; it was like they knew they were being admired and so they had their best dresses on.
“It is a beautiful night, my lady,” he was looking at her face now, he was not talking about the night.
“And yet, it is a sour one.”
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