Lady Vampire

Chapter 1: A Lady

"They call him Sweet Stewart." Harriet said as she folded a countless number of white linen bedsheets.

I sat and watched her from the edge of my ottoman, at the post of my bed. My posture was stiff and straight as I held my hands clasped together in my lap. My face was lacking of emotions and I appeared dead asleep but I had been listening to every word she said. She knew that as well.

"Say he's a nice fellow. Treats the people around him good." Her head bobbed up and down as she reached into the cloth basket and picked them up. "Has good manners, a friendly face, and doesn't disagree much, if ever."

"Sweet." The word fell from my mouth like a pearl. If not for her super hearing, I'd have doubt she heard me.

"Yes. Sweet."

My eyes picked up to looked her in her black eyes, seeing my own faint reflection in her pupils.

"People use strange adjectives like that to cover the negative points of whoever they're talking about." I caressed my right hand over a fur strip decorating the space beside me, my tone dull and bland. 

"So what is it?" I stilled my hand and froze my gaze into one place. "Is he infuriatingly stupid? Dull? Boring?"

Harriet frowned as she smoothed a crease of yet another sheet.

"Or is he more ugly than he is kind?"

Harriet shot her face to look at me.

"You stop that." She hissed.

I stopped my breath. 

I'm not much to complain. When father told me he had picked out a suitor for me per the rules of the estate, I agreed and continued about my duties. I had known this day was to come and I had known that it would not be my choice.

When you grow up as the daughter of a king, you are taught a few simple rules, them being:

1. No decision is yours

2. You do not belong to yourself, you belong to the people

3. To disobey is to die

And it will be this way forever. 

Of course, there exist a many other list of rules that I had to adhere to, but they were basically repeats of these rules in other words. 

I had to learn how to act properly, to not embarrass my Father, my name, and estate.  To behave like a lady. 

From the age of four, my back was strapped to a wooden board and kept straight --all in the name of posture. I rarely open my mouth. Hilda, my governess, expressed that my thick lips were fat and ugly, that no one would want to see them flapping about. She says that thin lips are the characteristics of a lady, firmly pressed together like hers. 

I'm good at it. I can behave. 

People remember me for it. Since I was young, they would call me the Porcelain Princess  attesting to me glass white skin, doll-like features and statuesque gestures. I'm good at being a decoration and keeping still.

Father likes that about me. He's never once complained. 

But today I was feeling a bit restless. It must be a full moon coming up.

"You will meet him at the ball your father is hosting!" Harriet stepped away from her responsibilities and twirled around towards me. She held a dream in her eyes. "Oh, won't it be just grand? Just think of it!" Her hands reached out to hold my own and she swung them back and forth, despite my restriction of movement.