The Vampire's Crimson Kiss (Editing)

Chapter 35/ The Interview with the Princess of midnight

Victoria's POV

The a week later it was morning Mary sat on my bed while I listened. 

It hadn't taken long for news of the parade of the damned to reach my father. He had sent 'Sir Brachet,' the only knight brave enough to enter the coven, as his ambassador. The badlands didn't have 'knights,' but the vampires would only allow someone of high rank to visit me without getting hit for blood. So Brachet became 'Sir Brachet.' He was a short, brutal-faced man, thick-set, the same age as my father, with short hair little more than a scalp of stubble. He had spent most of his life fighting marauders, other survivalist groups, and vampires; every death was engraved in his face, wrinkled like he had just pushed out a green coconut while sitting on the john.

Mary had organized the scribe from the city, whom Brachet employed. The scribe was also capable of memorizing the text he wrote and could faithfully reproduce it. "If he wants to keep it secret, it's Brachet's fault for not learning to write himself," Mary had said.

I began was reading 'Sir John Brachet's' letter to my father, the king.

"....after getting off the boat, I was taken blindfolded through the coven. I was taken on a long journey then eventually delivered to some room. I was announced by one of the coven wives and entered.

I had decided to keep an open mind about the rumours and find the truth myself. I entered Victoria's quarters. Before me were three coven women. One had her head covered in a hood and mask, like a slave of some sort. The other was a high familiar, and the third had the appearance of the coven witches who attended the peace negotiations.

The high coven witch seemed to be in charge; she was next to a large open book, reading. She stood up. Like many of her kind, she was dressed in the most unwomanly way, her waist so tight there was little separation between clothing and nakedness. Her shoulders were adorned with the fleece of a red fox, which had been used as the collar for a cloak. Her chest was exposed, which made her flesh resemble an ocean wave. Her face was daubed, making her eyes look like a raccoon. She was, like many of her kind, a very comely siren. At first, I thought her another one of the vampire court sent to test my patience. Then she spoke."

I remembered things a little differently, although 'a very comely siren' sounded good.'

"Uncle Brachet, so cool to see you again," I had said, coming over to greet him.

He wrote, "She was insanely beautiful, a beguiling woman. She moved like a sensual snake. She leaned to kiss me, then decided better and curtsied. Was this the King's oldest daughter? I wondered. Like most of their generation, Victoria didn't read, yet this girl had a book for company. As you know, Lord, my views on reading are simple. We don't need books; we need men of action. We needed swords to fight the vampires. Paper doesn't put wood on the fire or bring food on the table. It was a luxury from the weak decadent past."

As I read it, I realized he was saying this for my father.  The King. had never really approved of reading, thinking it a waste of time.

"Victoria?" Brachet had said, coming out more as a question than he had wanted. "Is that you? You've grown."

"Thank you, I've been working on growing," I had said.

I indicated to Mary, "May I introduce Mary, my governess. She's with me night and day to make sure they don't eat me. As you can imagine, it's a full-time job not being eaten."

Brachet had written, "She kept writhing before me. When Victoria spoke, I noticed a noticeable coven accent."

Writhing? Really? I thought, I don't writhe, not much, and definitely, I don't writhe for anyone except possibly the Duke. If I get to be the queen of the Badlands one day, I decided he's going to do some writhing of his own (and not in a nice way).