The Vampire's Court

Chapter 1- Seraphine

April 3rd, 1840. Bellehaven, England.

Morgan descended to the breakfast room, his middle-aged plump frame dignified in his traveling attire. Now well into 50s, his once black hair and beard was now peppered gracefully with white and gray throughout. He expected to see Seraphine, now a young woman of 22 and  ravishing beauty, but she was nowhere to be found. The maids informed him she had taken her breakfast in the garden, and they smiled, remarking on her free spirit.

Adonia, his wife, sipped her tea, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Yes, Seraphine has always been... eccentric, dear."

Morgan didn't notice the subtle jab, his mind preoccupied with his journey to the new Duke's estate. He had remarried when Seraphine was just nine, hoping to provide a stable maternal figure in her life. But, unbeknownst to Lord Emmons, Adonia and her daughter, Narcisa, had proven to be cruel and manipulative, often belittling Seraphine and excluding her from social events.

Meanwhile, in the garden, Seraphine sat amidst a flutter of tiny, delicate creatures. Her pixie friends, with petals for wings and faces like flowers, flitted about her head, chirping and chittering in a language only she could understand. They shared her berries, and she laughed, her emerald eyes sparkling with joy.

She wasn't sure where they came from, or how they came to be. However, she did know for certain that she was the only one that could see them. They came to her on a rainy afternoon one day, shortly after Morgan's marriage.

They had been truly her only real friends.

The servants, passing by, saw only Seraphine talking to herself, and exchanged knowing glances. They had grown accustomed to her eccentricities, but still, they whispered among themselves.

As Seraphine finished her breakfast, the pixies settled on her shoulders, or playing in her lush ginger hair, their gentle hum a soothing accompaniment to her thoughts. She felt a sense of peace, away from the stifling atmosphere of the manor.

She breathed in a readying sigh, and prepared herself for the swift changing demeanor of inside the manor.

As soon as Seraphine walked into the manor, she was beset by her stepmother, Adonia. "Ah, Seraphine, dear, I'm glad I found you. I was just informing your father about the tea party this afternoon. I assume you'll behave yourself and not...frighten off the potential suitors with your... eccentricities? Your choices are already so... well, low, really. I'd hate for you to wind up a spinster"

Seraphine's cheeks burned at the subtle insult, but she bit her tongue, responding only with a demure "Yes, stepmother."

Morgan, sensing the tension, rose from his seat, his eyes flicking between his wife and daughter. "Ah, speaking of which, I should be off. I have a long journey ahead of me, I'll be gone most of the day." He said, kissing his wife on the cheek.

Narcisa, his stepdaughter, piped up, "Father, will you bring us gifts from town on your way back?"

Morgan smiled, caught off guard, but not surprised by the question. Narcisa took any chance she could get to make him spend hundreds on her. "Ah, my dear, what would you like? A new dress from Madame Tussaud perhaps?"

Narcisa's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes! I've been wanting one of her gowns for ages. A pink and white one, please! Pink and white are all the rage this spring season! Why, I just saw the Marquis of Amonbridge's daughter wearing one last social!"

Morgan chuckled, his eyes warm with affection. "Very well, I shall see what I can do."

He turned to Seraphine, his expression softening. "And what about you, my dear? What would you like me to bring back for you?"

Seraphine's smile was sweet, her voice barely above a whisper. "The prettiest rose you can find, Papa."

Morgan's heart swelled with love for his daughter, her simple request touching him deeply. "I shall find the most beautiful rose in all the land, my dear."

Narcisa snorted, her voice dripping with disdain. "A rose? How trite, Seraphine. You're such a simpleton."

Seraphine's eyes sparkled with wit, her response swift. "Ah, Narcisa, I see you're as charming as ever this morning. I'd rather be a simpleton with a love for beauty than a witless beauty like yourself."

Narcisa's face reddened, her lips pursing in anger, but she was unable to retort, Seraphine's words having effectively shut her up.

Adonia, sensing the tension, intervened, her voice stern. "Enough, girls. Narcisa, apologize to your sister." Not that she meant it, it was only because the Lord was still present.

Narcisa's apology was half-hearted, but Seraphine accepted it with a gracious smile, her eyes never leaving her stepmother's face.

Morgan, pleased with Seraphine's wit and composure, beamed with pride, his heart full of love for his daughter. "Well, I should be off. I have a long journey ahead of me."

As he departed, Seraphine began to ascend the staircase up to her room and felt a sense of relief wash over her, grateful to be free from the tense atmosphere of the manor, if only for a little while. Only to be stopped by her stepmothers firm grip on her arm.

"I mean it child, one odd word or glance out of you and I'll have you sleeping in a padded cell where you belong within the hour." Adonia said, her voice teeming with malice and distain.

"I know, stepmother." Sera said bitterly as she yanked her arm away and continued up the stairs. "I wouldn't dream of ruining afternoon tea." Her voice echoed through the house with a sharp hint of sarcasm.

"That girl, I swear" she heard her stepmother tsk. Smiling to herself, she gently closed the door behind her.

Seraphine stood before her mirror, her pixie friends flitting about her head as they styled her hair into an elegant updo, adorned with delicate flowers and pearls. Her dress, a stunning white lace Victorian gown, fit her perfectly, the black ribbon at her waist accentuating her slender figure. Black lace gloves added a touch of sophistication, and her porcelain skin glowed against the intricate lace dress.

As she finished her preparations, the sound of guests arriving drifted up from the garden below. Seraphine's curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped out onto her balcony, gazing down into the garden.

The garden, while not grand, was a charming oasis, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. A meandering stone path led to a picturesque pond, where a small fountain played. The tea party was set up next to a beautiful willow tree, its branches drooping gracefully over some of the tables and chairs.

Guests mingled, their colorful dresses and suits a delightful contrast to the serene surroundings. Seraphine's heart fluttered slightly at the thought of facing them, but her pixies' gentle chirping reassured her.

With a final adjustment to her gloves, Seraphine took a deep breath and descended into the garden, ready to face whatever the afternoon might bring