"I heard we had a visitor," Mara smiled when she met with Erinna the next day.

The princess rolled her eyes.

"Not a happy visit then?"

The night had started great but everything had gone to hell from the moment she refused to go home with him. After he had left, Erinna had only slept for two hours before being forced to wake up and go on her daily rounds with Mara. She hadn't gotten enough sleep and her eyes had dark circles around them.

"He's angry that I didn't go home with him."

"Why didn't you?"

"You know why."

"The research?"

"Yes. But let's not talk about that. What are we doing today?" She asked.

She needed to get her mind off the drama with Vlad. Why couldn't they get on for a few hours? Every happy moment was always laced with an argument or disagreement.

"Well, there is something you need to do. You have left seasonal blessings at all households except one," Mara said, looking at her pointedly.

Erinna sighed; she knew exactly what Mara was talking about. She had avoided that house all week, skirting it as she went around the village leaving blessings.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Or it'll look like you singled them out."

Vlad was not going to be pleased.

"I told Vlad I wouldn't talk to him," she bit her lip.

"What he won't know won't hurt him. Besides, he's your mate, not your father. He can't tell you what to do."

Another time she might have stuck to her word but Vlad had annoyed her with the guards thing. They had not arrived yet but they would probably get there after the sun went down.

"Alright, I'll go. Are you coming along?"

"No, I'm having a conference with your father unfortunately. But you'll be fine."

When Erinna eventually got to the Thilmador household, she was a bundle of nerves. Her only consolation was that it was daytime so Vlad would be asleep and wouldn't know what she was about to do.

She hesitated at the door of the quint little home. Her practiced speech fled her mind and all the words she had carefully planned, deserted her. Every bit of courage she had mastered dwindled until the only thing that kept her on the doorstep was sheer will alone.

How did you face a scorned man who had been forced into eternal bachelorhood on account of being chosen to marry a woman he hadn't even wanted or seen to begin with?

What did you say to a woman denied the opportunity to ever hold her grandchildren by a nation so cultural that it had lost all sense of what was right and what was wrong in pursuit of some misguided righteousness?

Her people were so stuck in the past and the laws of their forefathers that sometimes they did not even see what was right or wrong and what had happened to Deacon and his mother was wrong.

After a short prayer, Erinna gently knocked.

A boy of about Tristan's age opened the door. Mara had told her Deacon had a younger brother, Faraviel, she had said. He was quite handsome for his age. His long blonde hair matched his brother and even though his long arms seemed all over the place, Erinna could see him growing into his body in a few years to come.

On seeing Erinna, the young boy's eyes widened in awe and reverence. His lips parted aqnd he clasped his chest. Before Erinna could ask him if he was alright, Faraviel was lying prostrate on the ground with his head in his hands. Erinna was dumbstruck; this was not going the way it was supposed to.

The prostrate position was the way the holiest members of the tribe were greeted. Legend said when a person with dormant second sight came across an elf of the highest order, one above all in power and integrity, bright white light would shine out of them and blind the onlooker. Erinna had never took herself to be one of those elves.

"No, Faraviel. Stand up please," she begged. She didn't deserve such reverence and respect.

"What have we done to deserve such an honor?"

The question was rhetorical but Erinna answered it anyway.

"It is no honor; I'm just an elf like you. Please stand up."

"If it will please you, Aranel," he said and finally stood up.

He however kept his eyes downcast, not looking into Erinna's directly.

"I didn't know, if I had known, I would have told mother and we could have prepared something for you."

"There is no need. Are they in, your mother and brother?" She asked.

"Aye, please come in. If my invite does not offend you."

"It does not, the honor is all mine," she smiled.

He was sweet and a real charmer. It all reminded Erinna of Tristan.

Faraviel stood aside and gestured into the house for her.

"Welcome to our humble abode."

"Why, thank you kind sir," she smiled and stepped into the cool cottage.

Deacon's house was not flamboyant or extravagant as one would expect from the king's right hand man. On the contrary, everything was modest and unpretentious. The real charm of the cottage lay in the sweet, homely atmosphere that surrounded it.

The people who lived there loved one another and cared for each other very much. It was an atmosphere that filled Erinna with longing. The energy was so untrained. It was a room she would have loved her kids to grow up in. If she could have any that was.

Faraviel left to go and find his mother and Erinna looked around the living room. It was filled of pictures of the happy family together. Vylith Thilmador was a beautiful woman, no wonder she had given birth to such beautiful sons. Footsteps came from the other room and Erinna looked away from the pictures in case she was caught spying.

Faraviel's mother was even more surprised than her son at seeing Erinna in her home.

"Princess?" She gasped and would have knelt in front of Erinna if she had not hurried forward and stopped her by putting her hands on her shoulders.

"Please don't, Mrs Thilmador."

"But this is such an honor my lady. Faraviel go fetch your brother. Tell him to slaughter one of the lambs for the princess," she instructed her boy.

"Please do not worry yourselves. There is no need. Water will be fine," Erinna assured them.

How could she bring herself to eat their meat knowing how she had royally ruined their lives?

"It is nothing please, let us do this. It's the least we could do after everything you have been through."

She looked so genuine in her kindness that Erinna could not bear to refuse her any longer so she finally gave in.

Vylith led her to take a seat where she went on to thank her a thousand more times for showing up. Erinna did not know how the woman could even summon a smile for her? Didn't she know she was the reason her son was still unmarried?

"We are happy to finally have you. It must have been hard for you, being forced into such a new way of line," Vylith said with unfeigned sympathy.

"Oh don't worry about me Mrs Thilmador. I am right where I want to be."

The woman took her words wrongly. Erinna had meant she was happy to be with Vlad but Vylith thought Erinna was referring to the elves.

"Of course my lady, we are happy to have you too. I know everyone is talking but they don't know what they are saying. You are a good person. My Faraviel is never wrong."

"Faraviel told you about me?"

"Of course, he saw you going around the village. We were beginning to think you would never come here. But we are happy you did."

"And Deacon? He doesn't mind?"

"My son carries a lot of anger but he is not cruel. He knows what happened was not your fault."

Erinna could see she was losing control of the conversation again. She had to correct Deacon's mother before the poor woman landed on the wrong conclusions.

"Mrs Thilmador, I'm not here to stay."

"No?" The woman asked in a surprised voice.

"No. I'm going back to Transylvania. To my husband."

"So Deacon...you are not going to marry him?"

"That is what I am here to discuss. I had no idea that my father had made such an agreement on my behalf."

"Don't speak of it like such. It was an honor for the family for Deacon to be chosen to be your promised," the woman admonished.

"He was very young; he should have been given a choice."

"He is a man of honor, he would have chosen no different."

Erinna nodded for she knew the woman was right. Deacon was a noble man. He would do what he knew was best for their race, for their kingdom. He was a better elf than her.

"I want you to understand I never meant to keep him waiting all this time."

"So you love him then, this vampire lord?" Vylith asked.

"Yes," Erinna answered, tracing her Recognition Mark with her hands. "He means the world to me."

"Then you should go to him."

Erinna was surprised.

"You are not angry?"

"Of course not. Love is a beautiful thing, who am I to come in between? I want the best for Deacon and you being in a marriage with him when you love him not will do both of you no good. I am happy you came to tell us this. You are an honorable woman as well Princess Erinna."

Erinna was shocked, she had expected anger tears and at the most furniture being thrown at her but Deacon's mother was taking this way better than she had expected. The woman was a kind soul, a gift from the gods. She felt ashamed for almost boycotting this visit and refraining from giving her an explanation.

Deacon eventually came with the roasted meat. In his mother's presence, he was not glaring at Erinna but she could tell she was still not his favorite person. She did not know why Vlad had ever thought he was interested in her when he could not even stand to be in her presence.

The lamb was good and she ate more than she had been eating in the past few weeks. It was tender, fresh and expertly sighed. Deacon was clearly a man who knew his way around the fire. After lunch, they had grapes from Vylith's garden and Faraviel brought her milk from his favorite goat. She did not like goat milk but she did not want to be rude so she scrunched her eyes and gulped it down.

Silence was not mandatory at the Thilmador dinner table. Faraviel and his brother exchanged jibes and even got her to join in in one of their riddles. Apparently it was tradition.

Although Deacon did not seem too eager to have her partake in this family ritual, his mother and brother were ecstatic. Erinna couldn't resist, no matter how much he scowled in her direction. Riddles reminded her of her childhood.

"I'll go first," Faraviel said eagerly although no one was fighting him.

"Two roads going up a hill," he challenged all of them to come up with the meaning.

"Weak," Deacon, rolled his eyes in mockery.

"That's not it, but you get one point for trying," Faraviel winked, making Erinna laugh.

She liked the easy relationship between them. It was the closest thing to a family set up she had ever seen.

"Two roads going up a hill is a nose Faraviel, I taught you that," his mother laughed.

"That was not for you, it was for the princess," he whined.

"You can give me another one," Erinna laughed.

At that, the teenage boy visibly peaked up.

"This time I won't go easy on you, even if you're beautiful," he grinned.

"Faraviel!" His mother admonished.

"What? She is," he shrugged.

"Do you actually have any riddle in mind?" Deacon rolled his eyes yet again.

If he kept doing that, they were going to get stuck at the back of his head. The action reminded Erinna of Vlad. No one rolled their eyes quite like Count Dracula. With the way his eyes were expressive, they'd make sure you and your ancestors felt every bit of mockery and sarcasm he was directing your way.

"Of course I do," Faraviel said, oblivious to the thoughts going on in Erinna's head.

"Spit it then before we all grow grey hair."

"Speaking of grey hair-

My grandfather's head

A paradise for the patient of heart

But a source of turmoil for the hasty

Alone he stays

But passionately he sings in company

Scars of time he bears

But better with age he becomes

Worthless to the ignorant

But a letter from Aunt Celionia's neighbors he is to the wise."

Deacon made to answer but Erinna swatted his arm before he could open his mouth.

"It's mine."

He rolled his eyes and shrugged, "Go for it then Countess."

The title sent bile up her throat and she quickly swallowed. She liked it coming from Vlad's lips because he made it sound like an endearment. She was pretty sure Deacon meant no endearment when he said it, rather is came out with disdain and sarcasm. She didn't like it at all.

"Princess?" Faraviel cajoled when she took too long to answer.

She was still trying to keep her food down. Un-riddling a riddle was the least of her priorities.

"Pass," she said quietly.

The boy's shoulders sagged dejectedly.

"You totally made up that last part, that is not even a riddle," Deacon rolled his eyes.

"So? It works," Faraviel shrugged.

"Why don't you explain to me?" Erinna encouraged when she felt well enough to speak. Faraviel had been so nice to her, she didn't want to rain on his parade.

"Ok," the boy smiled eagerly, "My grandfather's head means a rock because old people have bald heads. A paradise for the patient means minerals and riches can be found within a rock. A source of turmoil for the hasty refers how you can get hurt if you do not handle a rock carefully.

Alone he stays but passionately he sings in company means rocks when they are alone, they are just rocks, but if you rub two of them together, you can make a fire. Scars of time he bears, but better with time he becomes means a rock gets weathered over time but transforms into more remarkable shapes as years pass. Worthless to the ignorant means a rock is just a rock to the average stupid person like my brother over there," Faraviel finished,

"Shut up. And that bogus last line you spewed?"

"A letter from Aunt Celionia's neighbors he is to the wise? But that's hardly bogus my darlingiest dear brother. Imagine, when do you ever get a letter from your aunt's neighbors? Never. But when you do, it means she can't write herself, meaning she's either sick, gone bonkers or is dead. Either way, it means you're getting a fat inheritance. Hence instant money, which is what a rock with minerals gains you," the young elf grinned.

"Wow," Erinna exclaimed.

She had not thought that was where the convoluted riddle would take them.

"Brilliant aren't I?" Faraviel grinned once again.

"And humble too," she teased him.

"What's a lad to do? None of you girls want gentlemen these days," Faraviel fake lamented, making Erinna laugh at his dramatics.

"I'm not sure you would qualify either way," she laughed.

"You wound my heart dear, you do," he comically put a hand over said heart.

"How about you Mrs Thilmador? Any riddles?" Erinna asked.

"Me? Oh but I'm still eating. Deacon why don't you take my turn for me?" She encouraged her son.

Deacon didn't answer for half a minute and then he set his sinister eyes on Erinna. So he was going to make her suffer. She had known it.

"Bone that has become swords

A cat that was consumed by the owner

His brother cries in his belly

But his eyes are set on his mother

A sheep, but no, not a sheep."

"What type of garbage is that?" Faraviel laughed at his brother but his laughter was his and his alone..

Erinna did not crack a smile or show there was anything amusing in the riddle. Her sharp gaze bore into Deacon's challenging one. The others were confused at the riddle but she was not. How could she be, when he had manufactured the it specifically for her?

"A vampire. The answer is a vampire," she said coldly.

"What? That doesn't even make sense," Faraviel frowned.

"Bone that has become swords are fangs. Vampires have longer, sharper canines that other humanoid creatures. A cat that was consumed by the owner is a reference to their claws. Vampires have very long, almost animal like claws. His brother is in his belly refers to how vampires need to feed on the blood of humans or in the case of Vlad, elves like me," she said the last part maliciously because she hated how he had portrayed vampires.

His eyes shot to her neck and she saw his jaw clench as he saw her mark and the teeth marks from the spot Vlad always drank from. When he was not feeling too adventurous that was.

"And the last part?" Faraviel urged eagerly.

"But his eyes are on the mother means that even after eating, the vampire is always on the lookout for the next victim. It has no distinction and will eat whatever it finds first; whether mother, father or wife," Deacon said maliciously, his eyes blazing as they continued boring into Erinna's.

The jibes were hard to ignore but Faraviel seemed blind to all this.

"And the last line?" he asked, curious to know more about these creatures that were forbidden to be talked about in their kingdom.

"Faraviel, why don't you get me some salt from the kitchen?" his mother tried to distract him but the effort was lost on her son.

"The salt is right next to you mother. What does the last line refer to Deacon?"

"A sheep, but no, not a sheep. The line alludes to the common saying 'a wolf in sheep's clothing.' That's what vampires really are. They are beasts, demons masquerading as people and anyone. Whoever forgets that is stupid or ready to die."

The electricity around the table was now high and not even Faraviel could miss the tension.

"Aliberberries anyone?" He asked with fake cheerful, to bring back the relaxed atmosphere.

"Yes, let's go pick those," his mother jumped off her chair and the two of them made themselves scarce.

There was silence. Erinna thought of letting him get away with what he had sad to avoid conflict but it wasn't her style. And since she couldn't quite have the conversation she had come for because Faraviel was lurking in the next room, why not attack the bull by its horns?

"You are wrong you know."

"You might have to elaborate on that."

"About vampires. They're not monsters," she said softly.

"I would be more likely to believe that if you didn't bear his claim on your neck. Do you know what that bite does?"

"I do, but do you?"

He rolled his eyes and looked away. When Vylith and Faraviel Came back, Erinna moved from her dark mood and eventually managed to draw Deacon from his as well. They ate the aliberberries, some yellow elven berries that Vylith had in her limitless backyard.

"Mother can I take the Princess to see Agnes?" Faraviel asked after they were done eating.

By then, Erinna knew who Agnes was. It was Faraviel's beloved goat. He had managed to mention her at leave five times every twenty minutes throughout lunch.

"Maybe next time. Help me take the dishes to the kitchen so Deacon can show her around."

Erinna's stomach knotted as the moment she had dreaded finally arrived. She did not want to speak to Deacon; she was not ready for it. But as Vylith and her younger son disappeared into the kitchen, she found that she was left with no choice.

"Thank you very much, the lunch was good."