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"Again!" The Count commanded, his voice hard and uncompromising. In normal situations, everyone would have fallen over their feet trying to obey him but in that moment, no one moved a muscle.

The soldiers who were before him were bent over with their hands on the knees. They first looked at The Count, to the hot coals he was ordering them to run over for the 159th time in a row then back to him again. The pleas they could not voice out were displayed in their beseeching eyes and strained faces.

Their muscles were sore from exhaustion, their bodies sleek with sweat and their bare feet raw with torn skin and tendons. What was left of their soles was covered in angry bloody blisters but that was to be expected when one ran over a field covered in embers for the better part of the night. The only thing keeping them standing was the knowledge of what would happen should they fail to stay up.

The routine had been going on for hours and there'd been no breaks to pick out the coals that had gotten embedded in their feet, to feed and certainly not to recuperate.

Vampires healed fast but when faced with constant blood loss, continuous injury and depleted sustenance, even their nearly indestructible make-up was challenged. They wanted to obey their ruler, they did. The will was there but the energy was simply absent.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" The cold, deadly voice of the Count cut through the air like whip in his hand, sending chills that were not of coldness to all who were at its receiving end.

One by one the soldiers that had become statues of uncertainty, fear, indecision and attempted defiance, began limping off.

"Right foot in front of the left, you heard The Count. Move ladies!" Alexander yelled at the exhausted men.

When everyone was gone, Alexander pivoted on his feet and faced his maker. Dracula's jaw was clenched and set in a way that warned Alexander from testing him. His eyes were and steely but there was nothing cold about the wild turbulence of emotions that were swirling within him. It was that which gave Alexander the courage to do what he was about to do.

Angry, passionate Dracula he could deal with; it was cold, calculating and emotionless Dracula who put the fear of God inside him and since the latter was safely locked away, he gathered whatever balls he had and opened his mouth. Hopefully not for the last time.

"They are tired, let them go."

"Are you trying to tell me how to train my own army now?" The Count asked in a deep dark, quietly seductive tone that could make death itself sound sexy.

"They need a break. They are hesitating to carry out your commands not because they are trying to disobey you but because all the skin on their feet is gone."

Alexander had never considered himself a martyr before but the whole conversation had death sentence written all over it. His death sentence.

"This is not a new training regime; we have done the hot trail in the past," The Count rolled his eyes.

"Not for ten hours straight."

"If you have a point Alexander I would suggest you get to it."

"Permission to speak freely?" He needed reassurance that what he was about to say would not end with him in the dungeons, the test subject for all of Terrence's sick fantasies.

"Let us not pretend my answer will keep you from saying whatever it is you want to say," Dracula scoffed.

He wasn't that impertinent, was he? Alexander wondered.

"I was trying to be subtle but okay, I will rephrase: Will I end up whipping myself till sundown if I annoy you?"

"Probably," his maker shrugged.

Alexander sighed. To do it or not to do it? Oh what the hell, he was pretty sure he was going to get punished for what he had already said, why not just say it all?

"Alright, take it however you want to but the point is you are the one who allowed her to go away. I don't see why these men have to be punished for it."

Alexander felt it, the sudden pause in time and the instant tension. All the happy moments of his life flashed before his eyes as he lived through what would probably be his last moments.

"Are you done soldier?"

The condescension, just great, Alexander thought.

"Yes, my lord," he said, equally sarcastic.

"Good. Now go tell those men that they can go home. You will finish all the sixteen rounds each one of them is individually left with since you feel so sorry for them."

Alexander's jaw dropped. That was not what he had meant at all.

"Unless you want my personal attention for your insubordination?"

He quickly shook his head.

"Then I suggest you start running and whilst you are at it, I expect you to do the other 159 rounds they did whilst you were standing there analyzing my head," The Count said coldly.

Alexander had foreseen this, had expected it ever since he had run his mouth at the watching tower. There was no way Drac would have let him get away with implying he was going soft.

Why hadn't he kept quiet again, Alexander criticized himself. Big big mouth.

"You can contact her you know," he said quietly.

"Add 200 more rounds so we are certain of your remorse. I don't want you back in the castle before you are done," the Count said as he turned and walked back to the castle.

"But it's almost dawn."

"Then you better start."

*********

Miya came out of her bathroom with a towel around her and her wet curls dripping onto the floor to find none other than the Count himself on her bed. He was lying facing the ceiling with his right hand under his head and a thoughtful expression on his strikingly handsome features.

"Knocking, it's a thing you know."

The Count paid no heed to her sarcasm.

"Alexander thinks I'm punishing everyone because I regret letting Erinna go."

"Are you?" Miya asked, taking lavender scented oil to spread on her drying skin.

It wouldn't be the first time he had taken his frustrations out on someone else. Miya knew he didn't realize it but his reflex action when he was miserable was to make everyone else around him miserable also.

"Is that a serious question?" He frowned with annoyance.

"I thought I should give you the benefit of the doubt even though I know what an abominable animal you can be," she smiled endearingly.

She had never expected him to reach this stage in his life. It was cute that he was actually worried about people's opinion and she wanted to just squeeze his cheeks but she restrained herself. He did not even like being touched, petting him would be going too far.

"You're saying he's right?"

"Is he?"

"You're frustrating and annoying," he said, tossing a pillow onto the floor.

She laughed and began combing her hair.

"You're asking me the answers to something you already know. Why are you overworking your soldiers?"

"Because they are weak; we nearly got slaughtered in that war. We need to make up for what we can't in numbers by increased resilience. I'm conditioning them."

"No, you just want a stress ball and you're taking advantage of your position."

He rolled his eyes as she had known he would. Miya shrugged and began putting the eye paints she had been mixing onto her eyelids. She was about to go onto her second eye when Vlad appeared in front of her. He frowned and reached out, wiping off some of the eye paint with his thumb.

"What's that?" he asked, looking at his thumb with a puzzled frown.

"None of your business is what it is."

"Why are you painting your eyes? What did you make this from?" He asked, taking the tiny crucible from her and regarding the contents.

She snatched it back from him.

"Leave my things Vlad."

He shrugged and went back to the bed.

"Alexander is right, you're punishing everyone but not for the reason he thinks."

"This should be good," he scoffed.

"Oh it is. Why haven't you been talking your wife?"

"This might come as a surprise to you Miya but she left me. Am I supposed to talk to her memory?"

"You have one of the strongest telepathic bonds in this world and the best dream catcher ever invented so I'll ask you again; why haven't you been talking to your wife?"

He suddenly found interest in his nails. Miya smiled and continued painting her eyelids.

"I've been busy," he hedged.

"Busy making your soldiers hate you, you mean? Those people went to war for you less than two weeks ago. They lost friends and body limbs in a war that they didn't have to join you in. They deserve a break."

"That attack would not have happened in the first place if they had all been as strong as they should have been."

"That's beside the point. You ignored Erinna hoping she'd miss you and come back home and when she didn't, you got hurt and are now you're throwing a tantrum."

The Count narrowed his eyes and sent the little eye paint crucible Miya held in her hand flying across the room.

"Really? How mature."

"I'm doing you a favor, you are starting to look like the results of a mulberry orgy."

"We're not here to discuss my fashion choices. What I wear is my business."

"You see why I don't want my wife around you now? You are the one who puts these ideas in her head."

"If Erinna was to listen to you, she would be walking around in sackcloth," Miya laughed.

"I have no problem with that," he mumbled.

Miya shook her head in amusement and tool out a gold necklace with an eagle feather to put around her neck.

"That's ugly. Why are you dressing up anyway?"

"I'm not allowed to look pretty?"

"It's not like you actually have a lover," he rolled his eyes.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that."

Vlad's eyes narrowed and she watched his hackles rise up.

"Are you seeing someone?"

"You say that like I would tell you."

Miya hadn't forgotten how all the men she had tried to be with over the years had mysteriously disappeared. She was under no illusion as to who was responsible.

"I'll find out anyway."

"Forget about my love life and focus on you own. Talk to your wife."

"I visit her," he finally said.

Miya raised her eyebrows.

"I go to see her in her dreams every night; I just don't invite her to the dreams."

"Because you want her to miss you?"

He shrugged.

"That's stupid, childish and selfish. Erinna misses you, you don't need to do that."

"Why isn't she coming back then?"

"With that attitude, I hope she makes those two months two years."

"I hate you."

"I know. Now since you don't have anything to do except stalk your wife when she is sleeping, will you come with me to buy some fabric?"

He frowned in displeasure.

"You want me to go shopping with you."

"Is that too much to ask?"

"No, it's not too much. It is ridiculous," he said standing up to leave.

It broke Miya's heart that he didn't know but she could not tell him. She wanted to spend her last days with Vlad without the tainting of impending loss. When her day was close, she would tell him she was visiting her friends in the North because whatever happened, she did not want him to have to bury her.

In the meantime however, she was going to spend as much time with him as was possible. Even when he was being belligerent and obnoxious.

"You won't come then?"

"Why would I?" He asked, his confusion genuine.

"Vlad Tepes le Dracula, are you calling my company boring? I'll take offence at that."

"No, I take offence that you would think dress shopping with you would be more interesting than stalking Erinna," he smiled.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. Go then, I won't tell you what I'm making for her for the coronation."

"You're already making the dress for the coronation?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

"No, but we haven't even set a date yet."

"There's nothing wrong with being early. So...are you coming or not?"

The Count sighed.

"Fine. You are still annoying."

"I love you too," she smiled.

"Go easy on the ganja."

******

Before long, Erinna had struck up a routine. She spent the mornings with her father, the afternoons in the village or with Mara and the evenings with her research. It was not like she had anything to entertain her, Vlad was still ignoring her. All in all, everything had settled and she achieved some sort of normalcy until one afternoon.

Erinna was at the Mirandor household where she was leaving household blessings when Mara arrived to help her out as she always did. She was not alone however, with her was a tall elf Erinna had never seen before.

He was tall, even more so than her father. Everything about him, from the way he walked to the way he talked, spoke of a warrior. His arms were toned and he was built for battle.

The frontal part of his long blonde hair was pulled back in a severe pony tail and the back was left to hang loose. Two braids hung on the left and right side of his face, plaited from the temples. His face like those of her people was remarkable. If her tastes did not run along the tall, dark and Dracula path, she might have found him extremely appealing.

His looks were not what made him stand out to Erinna, it was the way he looked at her. In the several days she had been with her people, Erinna had come to expect hatred and malice in their looks but this was something else, it was so much more. This man didn't just hate her, he loathed her. After one firm glare her way, he said a terse goodbye and all but stomped out of the house.

Shaken by his reaction, Erinna struggled to keep her high spirits up the whole day but at sunset when they returned to Mara's house so she could get more books to read through, she decided to broach the subject.

"That man you brought this afternoon... who was he?" She asked Mara.

"His name is Deacon."

"Father's right hand man? Why was he looking at me like that?"

"Because he is not just your father's right hand man."

"I don't understand."

"Deacon was betrothed to you when he was thirteen."

Erinna's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Thirteen? But why?"

Why had no one ever told her that? And why had an engagement been made on her behalf without her consent? But she knew that was an irrelevant point, arranged marriages were commonplace among her people.

If two families stood to benefit from a union, then the parents set the wheels for a marriage in motion. Erinna had not known however that someone could be betrothed that young.

"It is the custom with Pure Beings. You receive the best man in the tribe to mate with so as to produce viable offspring and to ensure the bloodline is kept pure."

Erinna did not know how to feel; to say she felt like a breeding cow was an understatement. But she was hardly in a position to complain. How Deacon must have felt to have his choice taken away like that.

Her only consolation in the whole ordeal was that in the end it hadn't mattered what her father and her tribesmen had wanted, she had went on and found true love. Had it been that way for Deacon also or he was still alone? Was that the reason he had been angry at her?

"Surely he has found someone by now? He cannot still be waiting?" She asked, hoping against hope that she was wrong.

Her eyes were filled with guilt and compassion. Lord. Let him have moved on with his life please, she said the silent plea in her mind. She would never forgive herself if he had put his life on hold to wait for her.

"It's not his choice. Him marrying another would be considered an insult to you."

"But I don't mind, I want him to move on," she cried out.

"So do I honey but it's not in our hands," Mara said, her eyes downcast with sadness and helplessness.

"I have to go see him," Erinna said with resolution.

"Erinna, it's tradition. There is nothing you and I can do."

Erinna laughed lightly at Mara's words.

"Are you sure I'm the right person to discuss rules with?" she smiled at the older elf.

With the amount of rule breaking she had done ever since she had left Ellingsdale, trying to walk the straight and narrow was never going to be possible again. Besides, what was breaking one rule if it meant setting another free? That was what she intended to do for Deacon.

"He's ruining you," Mara laughed, but not without admiration.

She could see the change in Erinna and it was not hard to discern the source of that change. As deplorable as the vampire count was, it was obvious he had a positive effect on the princess.

There was a new boldness and take-charge attitude in her that had not been there before. This was a woman who would not only stand for what she believed in, but would fight for it for as well. She would make a fine queen.

"You haven't seen what I'm doing to him," Erinna laughed.

Talking about Vlad made his absence all the more real to her. She missed him and it was not a joke. She could feel the distance between them with every pore in her body. Numerous times she had to stop herself from just dropping everything and go to where his presence called her from.

"When is he coming to align the lands? You know he'll have to do that right? It's customary," Mara brought up a subject that Erinna had only discussed briefly with her mate.

In elf tradition, if two families married and the family of the bride did not have a son, then the husband of the firstborn bride became the head of the family. They would join the lands of both families and the new married couple would rule jointly or the wife would cede control to her husband. In their case, it would mean joining kingdoms since they were royals.

Erinna was alright with Vlad ruling her people. He was a considerate leader, very brave and above all sacrificial. He would do anything to protect those under his rule, even go into war if it would keep them safe. The only flaw in his system had been Death Town. Erinna had not agreed with the things that went on in that place but they had come to an understanding about it at the wedding.

"We discussed it but he wants me to maintain ownership."

Mara raised her eyebrows in surprised. Erinna understood her reaction; she had not expected it either. With Vlad's long history with her father, she had thought he would like to take this last dime and rub it in her father's face. Seeing Ellingsdale in the hands of a vampire would kill her father.

"You two are ready to fight tradition every step of the way, aren't you?" Mara said and they both laughed.

"Tomorrow I want to go around every household so I can finish the seasonal blessings."

"Then let me take you home so you can have an early night. It will be a long day."

"I don't think I'll be able to rest anyway," Erinna said, standing up.

"What troubles you?" Mara asked, sensing Erinna's words were not just a simple comment.

"Really Mara, I wouldn't want to bother you."

"Nonsense, tell me," she said then had a feeling she had played right into the princess' hands.

"Alright, there's been a favor I've been meaning to ask of you."

"Anything darling," Mara smiled then quickly amended her words when she saw the expression on Erinna's face, "Anything within reason that is."