by Amber Lynn
Not wanting to spend a lot of time in that spot, Krinla grabbed Gyla’s arm, maybe a little firmer than she meant, and started tugging her along. If anyone found her escape route, Krinla’s life would consist of her seeing nothing but the stone walls of her bedroom. She’d spent years trying to make the room somewhere she was comfortable, but the walls always felt like they were closing in around her.
“Where have you been?” Gyla tried asking again.
She kept her voice down, but anyone within a click would be able to hear the question. Within the walls, there wasn’t a place to have a private conversation. Krinla wanted to keep what she found a secret, so even if things were just between the two of them, she wasn’t sure she’d share the details.
“I took a walk.”
That’s all Krinla generally did when she needed to get away. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the smell that drew her out. It was something she wanted to find on her own. No one seemed to bring up the peculiar scent, so Krinla felt it was personal that she found what it was.
“You were gone longer than normal.”
There was a hint of fear in Gyla’s voice that caused Krinla to slow the quick pace she’d been moving them at. It wasn’t enough to make her come to a stop, but it made her want to get to her destination a little slower.
“Who noticed?”
No one else had been waiting for her, but Krinla knew someone had to have figured out she was gone. Nothing scared Krinla, and very little truly scared Gyla, so it could only be one or two people she was worried about. The two people Krinla thought of were at the top of her list of people she never wanted to know.
Before completely stopping and demanding an answer from Gyla, Krinla looked around their surroundings a little closer. The castle still loomed in front of them, so it was smaller houses Krinla studied to see if anyone was about to run out to greet them. It was still too sunny for most, so windows in the stone buildings all seemed to be shuttered.
Krinla reverted back to letting her other senses give her an idea of who was around them. The grass and dirt underneath their feet made no noise, so it was possible someone could sneak up on the pair. Krinla didn’t like to think someone had that much skill over her, but people like her father had lived for almost a century. It was unfeasible for her to be able to do everything they could.
“Who noticed?” Krinla repeated when Gyla failed to answer and no one jumped out to make the answer obvious.
“The easy question would be along the lines of who didn’t notice. Both your father and Hulin were out looking for you. I told them I didn’t know where you were, which thankfully wasn’t a lie.”
Krinla hadn’t spent enough time with Hulin to know what abilities he had, but her father was capable of knowing when a person was lying. Krinla had dealt with the annoying ability growing up and it was one of her least favorites. She’d tried everything to throw him off, but he always knew whether she was telling the truth.
“Where are they now?”
Krinla didn’t have to ask the question. She knew neither one of them were close. There was an overwhelming feeling of oppression coming from the castle, which meant they were probably deciding some new aspect of Krinla’s future she’d end up hating.
“They told me to bring you to them when I found you. You have to understand that I have no choice.”
Not laughing at how ridiculous that sounded was near impossible. As it was, an odd snort came out of her as the words settled in. Gyla took the task seriously, judging by the apology and sorrow in her voice, but they both knew there was nothing Gyla could do to make Krinla go anywhere she didn’t want to go.
The only thing that kept Krinla’s feet moving in the direction of the castle was the fact that unlike the guards, who were supposed to be watching everything, Krinla cared about what happened to Gyla. Her friend was set to marry someone she claimed to actually like. There was so little happiness to be had in the Dracul fortress that Krinla’s actions couldn’t jeopardize someone’s life turning out okay.
“You don’t have to come, Gy. I know how much you hate yelling.”
Krinla didn’t have to explain that voices were going to be raised. It was a normal occurrence in the castle. Ever since Krinla was promised to Hulin, she found a reason to argue every cycle.
Rarely was it about her future husband, even though she could yell until she was red in the face about what she thought about him. It was customary for the female to just accept the male chosen by her father. Krinla wasn’t trying to uproot Dracul customs, but something wasn’t right about Hulin, and she couldn’t shake it.
Thinking about the man she was walking towards didn’t calm the fire brewing inside of Krinla. Usually, when she came home from one of her little excursions, she felt like a worry had been lifted from her. It was one of the only times she was happy, but her extended stay outside would more than likely make her joy come at a price.
It was also going to make it harder for her to get away the next cycle. Krinla tried not to focus on the man in the woods as she got closer to the castle. If people saw her spacing out while she thought about him, it would be obvious something had happened.
Gyla’s pale fingers snapped in front of Krinla’s face. Krinla hated when anyone did that, but she needed the reminder there were people around.
“Hey, I don’t know where your mind just went, but you need to get your head in the right place for what’s going to happen when you walk in there.”
The younger woman moved to stand in Krinla’s way and put her hands on each of Krinla’s shoulders to stop her forward progress. From an outsider’s perspective, it probably looked silly for the woman who was almost a full head shorter with legs practically thinner than Krinla’s arms holding her in place.
“I was thinking about where I can say I’ve been,” Krinla said as she looked up to the sky. The sun was two full positions lower than when she’d left.
“That would be a great thing to be thinking about, but I have a feeling that wasn’t what you were doing. Unless I’ve lost my mind, you were smiling. You never smile.”
Krinla was quick to school her face to the neutrality that usually covered it. She hadn’t realized the tips of her lips were curled up.
“Maybe I’m looking forward to the fight I’m going to find at home.”
It wasn’t unheard of for Krinla to want to argue, so the excuse sounded as good as anything else she could come up with. If Gyla didn’t buy her excuse, any of the ones she planned on telling her father were going to be fruitless.
“Only you would enjoy fighting with your father. I run the other direction when my father even looks at me cross.”
A phenomenon that probably only happened once in Gyla’s life. That fact didn’t take away the look of fear that crossed Gyla’s eyes when she thought about it.
That was the reason they’d been set up as friends when they were both just girls. Krinla’s father thought the younger girl’s disposition would brush off on Krinla. They’d known each other for thirteen years, and Krinla only seemed to try to aggravate others more to make up for Gyla’s easygoingness.
“Then it’s definitely best if you head home and let me deal with them on my own.”
Gyla looked like she was going to protest, so Krinla took the chance away from her. Gyla was still in front of her, so she zipped around her and ran at full speed towards the castle. Even if Gyla wanted to chase after her, there was no way the younger woman could keep up.
Krinla took in all the air she could get into her lungs. As soon as she stepped foot in the castle, the stagnant hot air would try to suffocate her like it always did. If she was ever able to get outside the walls of the fortress again, Krinla promised herself right then that she wouldn’t come back.
Chapter Three
Even though Krinla was ready for a fight, that didn’t mean she went looking for it. When she made it over the bridge leading up to the castle, Krinla was in her supersonic running mode, so she decided to continue at that
pace right up to her room.
She was promised to Hulin, but since they weren’t married, he wasn’t allowed up to her third-floor sanctuary. Dealing with just her father wouldn’t necessarily be easier, but she wouldn’t have to bite her tongue to keep her true feelings hidden from her future husband.
It wasn’t like the disdain she wore on her face wasn’t enough to let him know how she felt. Krinla had heard stories that other factions sometimes got wrinkles because of their squinting and smiling over the years. Once a Dracul hit about twenty, the aging process stopped, so wrinkles were unheard of. Since she found herself spending most of her time with a scowl on her face, it was nice to know there wouldn’t be permanent lines.
The notion of the aging process stopping at a certain age had always bothered Krinla. She hadn’t gotten to that point in her life, but it was only a matter of time. It was an odd thing to think about as she did her best to avoid everyone else in the castle. She was trying to keep her mind free of anything that happened while she was out in the woods. No one admitted to being able to read minds, but Krinla thought it was best to make sure she kept her thoughts boring.
The grumbling she heard from the suitor waiting somewhere in the bowels of the castle made Krinla happy about the decision she’d made to bypass Hulin. He was saying something about putting a leash on her. Krinla shook her head as she shut her bedroom door.
If anyone needed a reason for her reluctance to marry the creep, all they had to do was listen to him speak. He was almost always saying something about her not knowing her place. He was merely a top aide to her father and she was considered a princess. As far as Krinla was concerned, he was the one who didn’t know his place.
Just the idea that he thought he’d be able to get a leash on her made Krinla chuckle as she glanced around her room. Without her there, no one was allowed in her room, but it was clear someone had been there. Krinla gritted her teeth together as she looked at the minimal furniture she had in the room.
The black sheet on top of her bed was disturbed as if someone had recently sat there. Seeing that, Krinla growled out a deep noise of dissatisfaction. Her bedroom was supposed to be a place where she was free from the outside world. Breathing in deeply, she knew that freedom was no more.
Her father coming up to check on things was one thing, but the scent of stale earth told her the man she was to marry had breached her inner sanctum. She growled again as she walked over and tore the sheets from the bed. If Hulin had sat on it, there was no way she’d use it without some kind of cleaning.
Since the bed itself was a stone slab, it wasn’t likely Hulin’s essence made it into the rock. That didn’t change the fact that Krinla wouldn’t be sleeping in her bed for at least a year. She tried not to think about the fact that as soon as she married Hulin, she wouldn’t be sleeping there anyway.
Once the offensive sheets were bundled into a lump and thrown at her closed door, Krinla started searching her room for other signs of the invader. She didn’t leave items out for people to thumb through, even if she thought her room was safe. The small stone table next to her bed was bare, as it should be.
The only other piece of furniture was a low dresser made of wood that had been blackened by fire after it had been built. Krinla loved the color of the charred wood and the fact that the smell of the fire remained somewhere deep within the wood even years after it had originally burned.
Krinla didn’t fill the six drawers, in a two wide by three high format, with clothes. She only had ten dresses and they all fit in one drawer. If Krinla didn’t run around in the woods and partake in some of her other physical activities she tended to enjoy, she would only need one of the dresses. She had the spares just in case something tore.
Not really caring whether Hulin decided to sniff around her clothing, Krinla started with the top left drawer, where she kept her diary, for lack of a better word. She didn’t like to think of it as a diary, more of a memoir.
Draculs lived long lives, often more than four centuries, but that didn’t mean they were immortal. There were ways they could die that were far from natural. Krinla’s own mother had experienced one of those deaths. Krinla had written about it in the leather-bound book she pulled out of the drawer.
She didn’t like to think or talk about it, but it was a part of her life like everything else that filled the hundreds of pages. Krinla wanted the words to tell her story should she meet an end like her mother. Since Krinla was also entering a marriage she didn’t want, the chances were good she’d eventually end up killing herself.
For her mom, it came down to either that or watching a man she wanted to be with executed. Her death didn’t stop the execution, but it made it so she didn’t have to watch.
Krinla wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to take her own life. When her upcoming marriage had been announced, she was forced to think about the possibility. Flipping through the pages of her writing, Krinla came to the part where she’d written down the things going through her head after she’d heard the news. It would’ve served Hulin right to read the things Krinla wasn’t about to admit out loud.
The book itself was supposed to have some kind of protection weaved into it so only the author could make sense of the words written inside. If the author ever died, the protection was supposedly lifted, but Krinla wasn’t sure any of it was true. She’d picked up the journal at the Naturist shop in town, which had goods the Naturists traded, but wasn’t actually run by Naturists.
There had been a tag on the book that guaranteed the claim that others wouldn’t be able to read it, but Krinla hadn’t even asked Gyla if she could see the words. Between the promise included on the book and the notion that no one was allowed in her room, Krinla thought things were safe.
Flipping through the pages quickly, Krinla couldn’t find any indication that someone had seen the words. If either her father or Hulin was clued in on what she really thought, she expected some of the pages to be torn or at the very least not find the book at all.
A fast look through the rest of the drawers indicated nothing had been disturbed. It was weird that Hulin had just come in and sat on the bed. His scent wasn’t very strong, so it’d been a while since he’d been there, but it seemed to be concentrated around the bed.
A shiver crawled up Krinla’s spine as she thought about him on her bed. She tried not to think about what life would be like with him because the thoughts only led to nightmares. Krinla was afraid those nightmares would be real soon enough.
Krinla took her journal and walked back over to her bed. She briefly thought about sitting on the side that didn’t have evidence someone else had been there, but instead she settled on the floor. She wanted to write about what she’d experienced in the woods, even if the timing wasn’t great. Someone was bound to come barging through her door any second.
She didn’t want to forget anything about the man she’d seen. If she could draw, she would’ve tried to sketch him, but she knew it’d be impossible for her to get it right. Her time was better spent writing down everything she could remember.
Cycle: 165 Year: 2358
I had an adventure, one I’m sure I’ll pay for soon enough. I met a man. He was unlike anyone I’ve seen before. Truth be told, he intrigues me more than he should.
Krinla stopped writing and put the stylist to her lips to think about exactly what to write. She’d already told herself she didn’t want to forget a single thing about him, but if the book wasn’t as protected as it was supposed to be, she didn’t want anyone else to know who he was.
Adding any detailed descriptions, other than the fact that he was a man, would make it easier for others to find him. He didn’t deserve to be hunted because of her, so it was hard to decide what to do.
Her stylist drifted back down to the paper. It was an inner fight wanting to say everything, yet being scared to do so. In the end, she closed the journal back up and put the stylist in its holder along the binding of the book.
Just like her notion of
drawing him, words wouldn’t have seemed adequate either. There was something almost otherworldly about him that Krinla was having trouble putting her finger on. Crossing her legs, she stared down at her book, hoping to find secrets within the ridged cover protecting it.
Who was he? Why wouldn’t he tell her what he was? And of course, the number one question that needed to be answered running through Krinla’s mind. Why did he smell so good?
Those were things she decided it was better not to write down, especially the one about his scent. He’d seemed surprised she didn’t immediately rip her teeth through his flesh. Draculs were known to be a little messy with live meals, but most of the blood they drank had been out of the source and aged for a while.
Beasts provided the majority of the food for Draculs. Naturists’ blood didn’t preserve very well and Reborn blood was said to be downright putrid. Krinla didn’t question that because she couldn’t see something that had once been dead tasting very good.
The topic of blood and the sweetness Krinla assumed the man’s blood tasted like was making her hungry. She generally only ate once a cycle in the morning, but her little adventure had dwindled the supply that usually lasted all cycle.
Running down to the kitchen wasn’t exactly an option, so Krinla tried to clear the thoughts of blood from her mind. Sleep wasn’t something a Dracul required, but it was the only thing she could think of to keep her stomach from taking over her body and making her leave her room.
As she stretched out on the floor, she tucked her journal under the table next to her bed. It wasn’t the safest place for it, but it didn’t sound like anyone was running to find her. Krinla sighed as she folded her arm under her head and rolled on her side. The lingering smell of Hulin made her briefly consider finding another room to sleep in.
A sigh coming from the doorway made the idea of sleep fade away. She knew her father was sneaky, but she didn’t think he could appear without a single warning.
