No one thing was responsible for this decline, but the fact of Gothic invasions from the west being a pestilence to her country, the crops failing for two consecutive years, and a withdrawal of support from the Roman Catholics in the country, among other things, fed into the deterioration of Romania's glory. Perhaps their architecture and art was above the bar for standard, but not all the art in the world would save them from falling into a bloody war with German tribes and crumbling.
Even if it weren't for the German barrage, Aurora's power on the empire was slipping. She refused to cooperate with the Huns--a long standing tradition of her people. Though the Great Khan did not seem to be too offended by this choice, the aristocracy were outraged by the decision. Breaking ties with the violent and backstabbing group of the Huns seemed to Aurora to be a no brainer, yet it was a political suicide of sorts.
The grip that Aurora now held on the throne was more tenuous than ever, both from events in which she authored, and events which were relics of past generations and of current world turmoil. Being the first queen to rule of Romania in many generations was a tough enough hurdle for Aurora to overcome, but scarcely did she establish her dominance and independence did all the trouble which threatened to take away her throne emerge.
This was a matter of pride to Aurora now, more than it was anything else. She felt as though she belonged on the throne, and that she was the best to guide her people through the hardship that they were facing. Therefore, she could not possibly give up the crown to some other upstart who was cocky enough to think all the problems of Romania could be solved simply. No, all those who were eligible to take Aurora's place on the throne, should she decide it was time to step down, were young and foolhardy.
Granted, Aurora was a young queen herself. She was seventeen when she took the throne, and twenty-five now, as the end of her nation seemed to be looming over the horizon. If she did lose Romania, what would people think? Would they ascribe the loss as incompetence by the leader? Would she be seen as weak simply because she was a woman? Or would history view her kindly, and assume that it was mostly the jumbled mess left behind by some old dead guys that were in the ground before they had to deal with the trouble that they had wrought?
Aurora simply sighed as her thoughts turned down that avenue. She knew full well what the answer to her question was. She would be labeled as an incompetent failure, regardless of the circumstance. Without even taking her gender into account, the historians never favored the last ruler of a nation, who ultimately oversaw its ruin. Give these same historians the chance to ridicule the leader for being a "weak" woman, and they would have a hayday with the opportunity.
Granted, in dire times such as these, perhaps it was best to put vanity to the side in place of other concerns. Yet all Aurora could do was worry these days, whether upon herself or matters of the country.
"Dear God, but this situation is hopeless," she muttered to herself while sitting at her vanity and looking at her reflection.
"If you take that attitude, then indeed it is, Madam," Dracule, Aurora's butler, said calmly. Aurora nearly jumped out of her seat.
"Dracule!" she said in surprise, turning to look at him. He had a habit of entering rooms as silently as a ghost, and lingering like one, too. Though this propensity was a bit odd, Aurora usually liked how interesting he could make things a bit more interesting. Needless to say, this time around she was not as pleased with his antics.
"Yes, Madam," he replied, a ghost of a smile sneaking onto his pale lips.
"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Aurora demanded.
"I have indeed, and I understand it in theory," Dracule replied, but when he saw that Aurora's grimace did not fade while he spoke, he bowed slightly. "My apologies for having upset you, Madam. I fancy myself a joker without the idiotic get up, though perhaps I should keep my fancies confined to my own head," Dracule said.
Aurora's tension relaxed upon hearing that. "No, no. I require none of your apologies. I'm just tense," Aurora replied. Dracule was her favorite servant to be sure. If he wasn't, he wouldn't attempt having such a loose tongue when around the queen. Yet, even he had his limits of speech around her.
"I understand, Madam. There is great reason to be. Things are difficult now, but you are as capable a leader as I've ever seen," Dracule said.
"That's not too impressive, considering you've only seen two, Dracule," Aurora replied. Dracule knew Aurora, of course, and also had worked under her father. But he was but ten years older than Aurora, so he saw no other rulers of Romania.
"Well, your father was well liked, and I'm telling you that you're as good as he was. Isn't that something to ease your troubled mind?" Dracule asked.
"My father wasn't facing the Germanic invasion, or a drought. I wish I knew what I was doing so differently," Aurora said.
"Perhaps you're not paying proper respects to the rain god. When you dance, is your ceremony clockwise, or counter clockwise?"
"Oh, haha," Aurora replied, not too amused by Dracule's sarcasm. "If only this could be resolved through something that simple,"Aurora said with a sigh.
"Complicated situations require complicated solutions. But you know this well, Madam," Dracule said. He dropped his air of sarcastic joking for a moment to talk more seriously with his mistress, much to her relief.
"I know this well, Dracule. But this knowledge doesn't make the burden any less of a cross to bear," Aurora sighed.
"I think it's best for you to spend some time thinking rather than being pestered by me, Madam," Dracule said, then bowed. "I'll see myself out."
"Very well," Aurora said, and remained at her seat until she heard the door click, signifying that Dracule had left.
Once he was gone, she sat and stared at her reflection for a while. She had fine features, usually something treasured on an aristocratic woman. Yet, these soft and delicate features that she possessed just furthered everyone's opinion that she was weak even further. She wished she had a strong jaw, a bigger nose, a shorter brow. But no, she was a model for the virgin Madonna, if only she was holding a haloed baby.
These thoughts just made Aurora sigh, and she stood up, going over to the bed and burrowing under the covers. Soon, a deep sleep overtook her. For a little while at least, she could cease to worry about her wondering and self deprecating thoughts and just focus on resting her tired body.
In the darkness of her mind while she rested, the image of Dracule came before her consciousness. She was dreaming, but what an odd dream it was. In the blank and darkness of her sleeping psyche, she stood in a seemingly endless voice with Dracule standing before her. Before she could ask him what the meaning of this whole thing was, he spoke.
"What would you do to protect your people?" Dracule asked, his voice echoing throughout the realm of her mind.
"I would do anything," Aurora replied without hesitation.
"Anything? Even sacrifice yourself?" Dracule asked, keeping all his seriousness in tact.
Aurora hesitated slightly, but then nodded. "Yes. Even sacrifice myself," she replied resolutely.
"What if it was only a chance of saving your people? Would you do it then?" Dracule asked.
At this, Aurora was thrown for a loop. Would she sacrifice herself for merely a chance at saving her people? That was a harder question, because a mere gamble was a dangerous thing to put her life on the line for. Still, considering withot some help, she and Romania were both doomed, she did nod again.
"Yes, I would," Aurora replied, obviously hesitant, but the risk was still worth it.
"It's a shame you rule the country now, Aurora. Or rather, it's a shame and a blessing. To see us out of these hard times, we need a ruler willing to be as selfless as you are. But at the same time, if you ruled during a prosperous time, I can only imagine what good you would be able to do for us," Dracule said with a smile.
"What is the meaning of this, Dracule?" Aurora demanded. Typically she enjoyed Dracule's digressions, but now was not the time. He seemed on
the cusp of revealing something of great import.
"If you're serious about this, meet me in the shrine of your predecessors," Dracule replied, and his form gradually began to fade.
Aurora stared, not quite knowing how to react to her butler's disappearing act. Still, she had to ask other question, more pertinent questions. "But wait, don't go yet. What gamble would you have me do? And when should I meet you?" Aurora asked.
"You'll know when the time is right, Madam," Dracule said with a chuckle as his form finally disappeared in its entirety.
Aurora just tried to reach out where she saw that Dracule had vanished, all to no avail.
In what felt like an instant, Aurora found herself awake, sitting up and heaving for breath. That was perhaps the strangest dream that she had ever had. Certainly that dream was just her desperation playing tricks on her mind? Yes, that had to be it.
So, Aurora convinced herself of that and went about her daily duties for a few days, until she felt this strange compulsion to go to the Shrine of Rulers, where all her predecessors had their mark on the country and on the castle recorded in plaques and busts of their likeness carved into the wall.
When the urge first overtook Aurora, she wasn't even considering the dream as the reason that she was heading where she was heading. Instead, she thought that perhaps she would find clues on how to handle the dire situation from past leaders who saw the country through its struggles.
As she browsed past the powerful visages of former rulers of Romania, she traced her fingers subconsciously over her own face, gently running them along her high cheekbone down to her chin. Was she like these men, or was she the odd one out? When other rulers and diplomats walked down this hall, would they stop at Aurora's bust and puzzle over her, wonder if she was included as a mistake, and move on? Or would the castle even still be standing after her reign.
"Madam," Dracule said, standing at the far end of the hallway, dusting off the bust of her late father.
Aurora jumped and went wide eyed for a moment. "Dracule! You nearly scared me to death!"
"I take it you forgot your promise to meet me here, then?" Dracule asked, glancing over at the queen. In that moment, memories of the dream rushed back to Aurora, and she just stared at him dumbstruck.
"You mean--from the dream?" Aurora asked.
"If you wish to call it that, yes," he replied flatly.
"Well, what else would it be called?" Aurora asked, confused. She never thought she'd be asking someone to explain her own dreams to her, but the circumstances were strange all around.
"I would call it a chat between the two of us," Dracule replied calmly.
"A chat? A chat while I was dreaming? A chat while I was asleep? I'm afraid I never thought of a chat being under those kinds of circumstances!" Aurora replied, frowning at her eccentric butler. "How could you refer to something like that so casually?"
"Perhaps your paranormal is just another man's normal, Madam," Dracule replied, and ceased dusting the bust of her late father.
Aurora didn't know whether or not Dracule was making fun of her, but honestly it seemed inconceivable that he wasn't. After all, he seemed to be implying that she was sheltered, when nothing could be further from the truth! Despite her being young, she had become as cultured as anyone could at her age. "I don't appreciate you condescending, Dracule," she said, a dangerous edge to her voice.
"Condescending? Madam, I apologize that you've mistaken my intentions. I'm not purposefully being condescending. I just want you to know that in my world, talking to someone in their dreams isn't so odd," he replied in a soft tone, humbling himself slightly so that Aurora's anger didn't increase.
"In your world? You mean to tell me that you think that talking to someone while they're asleep is completely normal to you?" Aurora asked, not exactly willing to accept that.
"I mean to say, I exist in a world with a different set of norms than you do, my Queen. I meant no disrespect," Dracule said and bowed. "Now, if you would like, we can perhaps talk about the wager you agreed to?" Dracule asked, looking in Aurora's eyes now, though his glance was somewhat tentative.
Aurora hesitated for a moment. "If you think this wager is hedged in my favor, then it's worth thinking over," Aurora replied.
"That's a topic for you to decide. Come," Dracule said, and motioned for Aurora to follow him. At the end of the corridor was a stone table and a set of benches, for purveyors of this hall to ponder over what they have seen. Dracule motioned to the table and Aurora sat, her servant following her example. "Do you know about the curse of this castle?" Dracule asked, his voice lowering somewhat.
Aurora paused, then frowned at Dracule. "You mean that old phony myth about the Vampire King?" she asked, and as she spoke these words, she saw a real distressed expression come upon Dracule's face.
"Don't say that it's phony, Madam. He is not phony," Dracule replied in a hurried voice, looking around his shoulders to check and make sure no unwelcomed creature was standing close to him. Once satisfied with his check, he turned back to Aurora. She was not impressed with this little show in the least, however, and her expression showed that plainly enough.
"If he's not phony, then is that what you wanted to talk to me about? A vampire?" Aurora asked, sighing. She had always thought Dracule was an intelligent gentleman. A bit eccentric to be sure, but witty as could be when he felt that it was safe. Did her jester butler honestly buy into the myth of the Vampire King? Not even the dimmest peasant believed such malarky.
"Yes, Madam. I know how to get to his catacombs and release the seal, but it takes the sacred emerald on your tiara before the seal can really be broken," Dracule replied in a hushed tone.
Aurora was still obviously skeptical, but she put those feelings away for the time being to entertain whatever nonsense Dracule was talking about, just in case the nonsense could actually yield some results. It was doubtful, but not impossible. "And if I did break the seal, what exactly would happen?"
"The Vampire King ruled over Romania for 100 years before the peasants began to realize that he never got old and staged their uprising. His bust was broken in the corridor by the guards, but records show that he was one of the greatest rulers our country's history. If you could tap into his brain and have him help you, then you could put this country on the right path again," Dracule said.
"The records? I never came across anything of the Vampire King in the royal library," Aurora said, eyeing Dracule skeptically now. How could he know more about the country's past than her? Even if it was just over the particulars of one ruler, her history lessons were very thorough, and she was a diligent student. Under no circumstances would it be possible that he was more learned than she.
"The scribes would have destroyed the records of Neculai, if they weren't removed from the library," Dracule replied emphatically.
"Neculai?" Aurora asked, and she saw Dracule's face turn red.
"Neculai is the name of the Vampire King. Even that was lost to history," Dracule explained. "But, my family preserved his records, because we knew a time would come when he would have to be called on by the country, and so we've kept a place in the royal house, waiting for that time. It seems like the time is now," Dracule said.
That was a little much for Aurora to take in easily, so she just tried to grasp the concept of that. Dracule's family, who have worked in the royal house for many generations, actually only kept their loyalty to the throne for the Vampire King? A man that the last four or five generations, at least, had never seen or even been alive during his reign. How could they be so loyal to a monster?
"I've said more than perhaps I should have, Madam, but you have to understand. It's really important for you to consider this. If you free the Vampire King, and he still loves his country, he will help you regain its former glory," Dracule said.
"And if this King, should he still even be alive, feel bitterness towards the people for locking him up for a few hundred years, he will kill me and wreak havoc on my people? And t
hen I will officially be the worst monarch in the history of the human race for unleashing an unholy demon upon my flock," Aurora said dryly.
"It's either Neculai or the Germans, but at least there's a chance that Neculai will play nice," Dracule said.
"A slim fucking chance at that," Aurora replied, grumbling under her breath.
"A better chance than none," Dracule replied.
Aurora clenched her fists and tried to concentrate on the situation that was placed before her. On one hand, she could gamble on whether or not it was possible that the Vampire King would actually help his country, or if he'd watch it crumble. On another hand, she could watch it be invaded by Visigoths and torn to shreds. As much as she hated to admit it, the slim chance that she had by being led by Dracule was better than nothing, as he had said.
"Very well, Dracule. I will entertain the suggestion. But if this goes wrong, I hope the Vampire King eats you first," she muttered.
Dracule didn't seem to hear any of Aurora's words after "Very well", as he just lit up and hopped to his feet.
"All right, my queen. Please, follow me," Dracule said, and he led the way to the broken bust in the corridor, and he pushed it forward. It moved just like a heavy door, and revealed a dark stone staircase winding down into the earth like a snake.
On the wall, Dracule grabbed an oil lamp and lit it. This wasn't his first time going down this staircase, that much was obvious. He led the way in the dim light with confidence, scaling down the stairs in no time. A definite excited stride showed his enthusiasm, and though they descended what must have been two hundred steps, he was not in the least bit winded as they reached the final plateau before a large and ornate stone door.
"There is a key here," Dracule said, picking up an equally ornate stone key and showing it to Aurora. "But even though it turns, the lock remains in place. That's because there's another key to opening the door. Look," Dracule said, and directed Aurora to a pedestal on which a faint glimmer from the moon shone through the cracked wall of stone. "Place your tiara here," he urged.
AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) Page 45
