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I...well.

Ask me something first. Something terribly invasive or uncomfortable. Don't think twice about being rude, just — ask something of me.

I suppose

Tell me why that prince bothered you so much. Really why.

[Ah. Well. That's almost a relief, actually. Now she won't feel nearly so bad about what she's ultimately going to ask him, since it'll be coming on the heels of having to be this honest.]

Because I was alone, and afraid, and exhausted, and all I wanted was just one person to help me. And that's how it goes in the stories. He was a prince and I was in trouble — he should've helped.

He made me feel like I was the one who'd done something wrong. He called me ugly and a peasant, but it felt like he was saying I wasn't...enough, somehow. Not enough of something to be worth helping.

You told me once that I oughtn't compare myself against my brother. The truth is, it's not really him that I compare myself against; he just makes for an easy object to direct it at. Really it's...what I'm supposed to be. What a princess ought to be. That awful frog didn't even think I was worth a kind word after I'd broken his curse and it bothered me because deep down I sometimes feel as though he might have been right.

Regrettably, there are many a noble like him, Rosella. You deserved to be helped, of that I have no question about.

Thank you for sharing. ...Whatever you have to ask, I will answer.

Does your Wallachia know the story of a gnome who used a spinning wheel to spin straw into gold?

It does not.

I see. Well, he was a very clever gnome, rather magical. He's an old friend of my family's, actually, and helped my father become king back when he was still only a knight. So I grew up around him, hearing his stories and all that.

There's one thing that's different between the real gnome and the stories about him, though. He spells his name backwards.

And I think you do, too. Don't you?

[It's surprising how many people don't realize what it means. Really, he should have known that someone as clever as Rosella would figure it out eventually.]

It's not technically my name.

I know. You answered to Adrian in that dream we had. When I mistook you for my brother, Alexander.

Please don't be upset. I doubt anyone else will have worked it out, unless you've been going around telling them stories and introducing them to your dream parents like you have with me.

Rosella, I'm not upset. I was

How shall I put this

I was concerned what you might think of me if you knew who I was. What I was, specifically.

Well, you've not yet tried to eat me, so you're already far out ahead of a number of other, um, persons I've encountered before.

To be honest, I'm really not altogether certain what you are, in that respect. You're not a vampire, I've seen you out in the sun and it didn't give you any sort of trouble. You're not repelled by my amulet, so I don't think you're a night creature. I suppose if you'd pressed me I would've guessed a fae of some sort, you've got the ears and the charm for it. Though you're a little tall for one.

But I do know that you're kind. And tender-hearted, even though you try to cover it up by being a terrible grouch. I can tease you and you'll laugh, and you'll tease me back in equal measure. You kept me company when I was afraid of the dark, and you didn't have to. And for all that you pretend otherwise, you really do care about your horse.

So I do know what you are. You've shown me, all this time.

My father was Dracula. I imagine you've surmised that much. And my mother, a human. So I am half of both. Half a monster, as it were. My last human contact had been with two people who I opted to trust and have in my home. It did not turn out well. Less for them than for me.

So, I was concerned about most anyone learning much about me. I didn't think you would attack me, but I
suppose I didn't want to risk losing a friend if you knew.

I'm relieved to be wrong, of course.

Also it's still not my horse.

I've met monsters, you know, and you aren't one. You're not even half of one.

I'm sorry. If you've thought all this time I might not like you if I knew any of it — well. I'd be no better than that awful frog prince, wouldn't I? Not bothering to care anything about you other than some preconceived notion I might've had.

I really do like you very much. And not just because you threw that horrible fool in the moat for me.

But it's very much your horse.

I was being literal, but thank you.

I imagine throwing that wretched prince out the window didn't hurt my chances, at least. But thank you.

Fine. If it's my horse, then we'd better find the damned thing.

My, so many thanks! I don't know that I deserve all of them.

You should tell me about your father's court while we look. I know you said it was unique. I'd like to hear more of how so.

Then I shall subtract one for a later use. A singular thanks for the moment instead.

You really want to know about Dracula's court of night? Full of all sorts of night creatures, especially vampires?

No, I want to know about the court where you grew up, that belonged to your father the king.

If you're out to try to scare me, you're going to have to do rather a better job than that, you insufferable boy.

How rude. Here I was attempting to give you the option to back out.

Well. As a boy, I didn't quite understand the purpose of it. When I was young, the court was commanded to be kind to me, of course. I didn't question it if we had a warg or demons in the halls. For me, that was normal.

To be honest, I felt more comfortable with a few beasts than I did the vampire generals my father would meet with. They were polite to me, of course. Many of them my tutors in various areas. However, the more I grew up, the more I knew that I was different from them.

It's curious how some things stay the same, even when others are so very different. Being the sovereign's heir always does come with special privileges, especially when one is young, and one's elders more willing to be indulgent.

When did you meet your first...um. Human, I suppose? The first one aside from your mother, that is.

Both a privilege and a curse. Though I will admit that my mother ensured that I understood just how fortunate I was, as much as she indulged me so.

A boy, when I was also a child. His family had just died from a perfectly preventable illness. I thought I'd be so eager to meet someone my age, but instead I was frightened at first. I'd never seen another child before, not like that.

Frightened, really? But why?

Oh...because he was different, I suppose, from what you were used to. Is that it?

IC Inbox | noctiumrp

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