The wickedness returned to her expression as she said slyly, “Ah, you call him your husband so easily now.”
Leaning forward, my hands clutched into tight fists, I answered, “Of course. It is best that I carry his title and his name.”
Astir tilted her head, her delicate diamond earrings catching the light. “I see. Well, your dear husband has caused much of the complications occurring at this time, but the situation is now far removed from his power and influence. It has run its own course and I suggest that you be a dear, quiet little vampire and behave yourself. The powers that be are not gazing in your direction at this time though they are aware of your presence. There is a power struggle occurring and your dear husband was wise enough to remove himself, and you, from the fray. It is best if Ignatius does not come into this city and that you do not correspond with him. In fact, it is best for both of us if you do nothing more than entertain your human friends, do not kill for blood, and behave in the manner of a mortal countess.”
I was riled at her words, infuriated that she dare tell me how to behave, yet I was surprised to see concern in her eyes. “I came here to find Ignatius and have my revenge.”
Astir finished her champagne and gestured for the waiter. “Yes, I know. But you are not a goddess, my little one. You are a vampire with a title and the illusion of a mortal life. You must use these assets to your advantage and keep yourself from harm. You cannot hurtle through this new life of yours doing as you will.”
I chafed under her words. “What use is this new life if I cannot do as I will? I refused to live a conventional life as a mortal and I certainly do not intend to do so as a vampire.”
“Is that why you have ensconced yourself in Hungarian society as Countess Dracula? Please, my dear one. You have returned to the familiar trappings of your mortal life.”
My laughter was mocking. “If you bore witness to the Baroness Dosza’s little nightly parties, you would have to admit that the life I live now is far removed from the genteel country life my parents desired for me. I am a vampire. I am Countess Dracula, and I will do as I desire.”
Astir fastened her keen eyes upon me. “Even if that should mean that you would not see your beloved Father Ignatius because you would be dead?”
I sat back in my chair, stunned. “You dare threaten my life?”
“No, I am giving you a warning that should you not tread carefully, my dear sweet little countess, you will meet your end at the hands of those whose name I dare not speak aloud.” Astir sat forward on her chair, moving closer to whisper across the table. “There are powers at work in this city that will destroy you should they realize certain veracities.”
I was vexed to see the truth in her eyes. It was plain that she was speaking of my crime against Vlad Dracula and the ramifications. I was chilled to my core as once again I was reminded that though he was vanquished I was not yet free of his power and influence. I could feel my rage rising, choking me, and tears springing to my eyes as I faced the reality that to some extent I was still trapped by the dealings of the vampire who had killed me and made me his Bride.
“Damn,” I hissed, sulking.
“Good, you understand at last.”
“I will have my revenge,” I said sullenly.
Astir glanced over her shoulder. “Discretion is always the best route in these things. Any grand gestures could be misread by those whose attention you do not want drawn in your direction.”
“Who are these powers?” I felt drained of all emotion all at once.
“As I said, I dare not speak the names.” Astir fanned herself, her eyes sweeping over the cafe, briefly stopping on each face.
“You are so powerful. Do you actually fear others?” I scoffed at her sudden demure demeanor.
Returning her gaze to my face, she said, “I have learned to play the games of this world because I am not all powerful, my dear little countess. I have my limits as do you. Since the vampire hunters invaded Buda and robbed me of some of my best clientele I have had to be a little more...” Her words faded away and she fussed with her glass. “Where is that waiter?”
“Your haven was compromised by Gregor, the dhamphir. Did that affect your power?”
Astir laughed lightly, her fingers fluttering over her lips. “Oh, please!”
I am not always the cleverest of creatures, but I recognized the flash of fear I saw in her eyes. Her haven had been compromised and she had banished the vampires from it during the vampire hunter rampage through the city. Perhaps she was in the same difficult position as I. Perhaps she was caught in a web, too.
Our waiter returned and our orders were taken. When our food arrived, I pretended to eat as Astir ate ravenously, laughing and talking about nothing more important than fashion and the weather. I could not wrestle another bit of information from her. It was if she were suddenly my dearest friend and our meal was nothing more than two friends having a lovely dinner together. I finally gave in to her desire to not speak of the mysteries of Buda, the vampires, Dracula, and the web I was apparently caught upon.
When we parted ways, Adem climbed into the carriage with me. He had sat in silence, like a shadow, throughout my time in the cafe. As the horses drew us away into the majestic hills toward the palace, he reached out and took my hand gently. I found it to be a forward action and almost pulled way, but his fingers tightened slightly.
“I know you wish not to heed Astir’s words, but I have not heard the truth so plainly spoken from her lips in many years. Strangely, I do believe she cares for you and wishes for you to be safe. Listen to her. Obey her.”
My lips trembled as I nodded. He released my hand and settled into the darkness of the carriage. I cast my gaze upon the Danube beyond the carriage window and struggled to hold back my tears.
I have always hated Vlad Dracula, but in that moment I would have killed him a thousand times over to be free of him, his power, and the secret dealings that so greatly impacted my existence despite his banishment.
Chapter 15
The Journal of Countess Dracula
July 12, 1820
The Dosza Palace, Buda
Baroness Dosza and I attended a party on Margret Island located on the Danube River. The Baroness was elated to be invited. I discerned from our conversation en route on her private boat that she had been concerned about her social status after a short altercation with another aristocrat.
“I must say I am relieved it is not an issue. She was determined to have me shunned. I told her quite plainly I would never lie with her disgusting pig of a husband.” The baroness sniffed before flashing a wicked smile. “Instead I was bedding her son.”
I must admit that the baroness is intriguing in her own way. She lets no one dictate her actions, but acts upon her own whims. Her passions rule her and they may change from day to day. Though she may be fickle, I have witnessed her one constant obsession: her desire to never grow old and to be immortal. She is consumed with the notion of being Vlad Dracula’s Bride. I listen to her prattle on about him, our future, and her desire to be my dearest friend with some amusement. I’m not a fool. I know that she believes if she becomes my confidant, her status in Dracula’s household shall be elevated. Little does she know that I have no intention of allowing her to be a vampire, let alone survive another year of her mortal life.
We were welcomed with great fervor when we joined the festivities held near the medieval ruins of a monastery. The trees were decorated with long swaths of white ribbon and candles burned in ivory candelabra. An orchestra played upon a vast green lawn as the attendees danced, conversed, laughed, and flirted beneath the black canvas of the night. All the ladies shimmered in their pale gowns, resembling lost spirits as they walked through the lush garden and lingered under the canopies of the white cypress trees.
As we walked together among the party goers, greeting the wealthy and titled of Buda, Csilla snaked her arm about mine, pressing close to me. I admit we both enjoyed the openly shocked expressions and fervently whispered gossip. I knew it was quite the scandal to see Count Dracula’s wife and mistress arm in arm, enjoying the party together.
“Baroness Csilla! What a joy to see you!” a matronly lady called out in greeting. She excitedly waved us over.
As we joined her, Csilla greeted her with a cool little smile. “Borbála, how lovely to see you.”
Borbála returned a cold smile of her own. I wondered if it was this same woman with whom the baroness had quarreled. “Pardon me, but have we met?”
“I am Countess Dracula.”
“Oh, my! Of course! It has been so long since I saw you when you were visiting with your parents. I believe I last saw you and your family at a picnic.” There was a slightly predatory gleam in her eye as she swept her eyes over my face. “Oh, wait. No. It was the lovely opera at the Dosza Palace where I last saw you with your husband and your charming brother.”
It was difficult, but I did not allow myself to be disquieted by her words.
“But you were in mourning then. You wore such a heavy veil, I could not even see your face.”
“Isn’t she lovely?” Csilla gushed. “Now that her mourning is over, it is so grand to see her pretty face once more.”