Chapter 10/Punishments of the high priestess

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The High Priestess of the coven of the Meridian, Anastasia, watched the girl from behind the wall in the darkness. Long ago, vampires became obsessed with hiding and watching from the shadows. Their senses could see in the deepest of caves; watching through tapestries and taut canvas was hardly an inconvenience. They called it a Cimmerian mirror. Their hearing could listen to what the jurgrath could not.

They had developed the habit of standing hidden in dark rooms, looking through these soft mirrors, as their loyal familiars fronted the vice and corruption they once controlled. It was expected to spy on guests, so Victoria had been taken to the quarters normally reserved for distinguished visitors. Few knew all the secret passages and ghost rooms except the Duke himself. There they stood.

Anastasia's spies told her the Duke had visited a baffling number of times. He would watch her sleep, they said. He had become angry at the slightest fault when she was starving herself. He had left an important was meeting to negotiate with the hostage the moment the messenger arrived.

She looked to the Duke, who stared at the same back of the tapestry as she did.

"This is your itch? Is she the one who's slipknot is around your mind? If you want her, I say just sire her and be done with it," Anastasia said.

Anastasia had an air of regal elegance that left no room for doubt. She was a stunning young woman—a paragon of vampiric allure. Her very presence seemed to defy the passage of time, for her beauty was timeless, untouched by the ravages of age or mortality.

With pure white hair cascading like a gossamer waterfall down to her waist, she possessed an ethereal quality that made her stand out even among the immortal vampires. Her face was elegantly structured, with a prominent V-shaped jawline that accentuated her regal features. Her eyes, large and expressive, held a depth of wisdom that belied her youthful appearance, and they sparkled with an inner fire that hinted at both mystery and power. That sat either side of a small nose which held a gold nose piercing, attached via a thin chain to her right ear. The ornate vampiric starburst headdress, announcing her high position, often drew attention away from the delicate chain.

Her high skin, a canvas of unblemished perfection, radiated an otherworldly glow that spoke of centuries spent in the embrace of eternal life. With every step, she exuded an aura of commanding poise, a tribute to her position as the High Priestess of the vampires. Her attire, a tightly fitted gown in a lustrous shade of crimson, clung to her form with a perfection that mirrored her own. It was adorned with the dense symbology and glyphs of the blood god she served. The dress whispered secrets of craftsmanship beyond mortal comprehension, tailored to accentuate her every curve and contour.

Upon her graceful arms, she wore opera gloves, above which were tattoos of cryptic symbols—a indicator to her deep connection to the arcane mysteries of their vampiric lineage. These symbols, etched in intricate patterns, seemed to pulse with a subtle, enigmatic energy, hinting at her profound knowledge and power within the vampiric hierarchy.

Duke Sadismann shifted his weight and spoke, staring at the girl.

"If I do, we'll go to war with the King of the Barren Lands. We'll be weak and spread out. Malphas will push his people as far as to attack. I must use other means to remain strong. Now, Mother Superior, do you remember your role in this?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she said.

The High Priestess pondered what he was up to. He had his plan, but what exactly was it? Why had he made a peace treaty with the cattle of the Barren Lands? Normally, he would just annihilate his enemies. Why did he agree to, of all things, not sire this girl? Was it a feint, perhaps, to draw out his brother and the traitors of the coven? Possibly, but how? A new defensive maneuver, using humans as a buffer between his coven and that of The Coven of The Ash Circle? Maybe. Or was he planning to create a new coven with this girl as its queen? If he tried, he would be inviting his own coven to overthrow him, and The High Priestess would ensure that. 

The girl was the key; he was obsessed with her. His hope was that the Princess could be purged of virtue; the more virtuous she was, the more he felt himself contaminated by the virus of desire. The more he saw her wrapped in the finest clothes of the coven, the more he knew this task could not be left undone. Lust was always his weakness. Denial was the only thing that truly concerned her. Why was he doing this? What hold did she have over him? She had an agreeable face, a figure less marred by starvation than many, doe-brown eyes. What had caught his attention with her? She wondered.

"Let's get on with it," she said.

"I will leave now," said Sadismann. "I have much to do beyond the coven, and you will respect my rule in these matters."

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