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ARABELLA HADN'T DONE much that day. She would've entertained herself by messing with Johnathan, but she believed that manoeuvring around the castle by himself with no aim would've done the trick.
And she was right. She had glided into the dining room after spending the majority of her time in the library to be meet with the sleeping figure of Johnathan, who was slumped over in his chair at the head of the table, his heavy head resting on the edge of the wood.
Arabella didn't want to disturb his sleep so she simply sat in her assigned seat and whipped out her book - The Invisible Man. It was a new novel she had brought with her from France. She had yet to read it until today, and so far, she was enjoying it.
So engrossed in her novel, she hadn't realised the approaching footsteps or the clink of glasses. Arabella jumped in her seat at the sound of a cork popping from its place in a bottle of wine. Twisting her neck to the side, she grinned at the sight of Dracula. His once white, thin hair was now thicker and appeared a dark grey in colour. Obviously, he was not lying when he said Johnathan's youth was a waste on him. After only one taste, the difference was as clear as day. His face was still wrinkled and withered, but it was evident that Dracula was sucking the youth from Johnathan who was already seeing the effects of age.
The cork popping seemed to alert Johnathan as well, as he stirred in his sleep, his head rising from its spot on the table.
"Sorry," Dracula spoke, his Hungarian accent already gone and now replaced with a suave English one. "Didn't mean to startle you," He placed a hand on Arabella's shoulder, guiding it across the back of her neck then moving towards Johnathan, placing wine glasses before each guest. "I think you've been working too hard. Please - relax. Have a glass of wine."
Dracula poured the red wine into both glasses before walking to the opposite side of the table. "Your voice. You sound different," Johnathan rasped out, still not looking at Dracula.
"I've been working on my English. Do you approve?" Dracula asked.
Johnathan furrowed his fair brow. "It's almost perfect."
"The credit is all yours," Dracula softly spoke as he lit a candle. "Your presence has invigorated me. Fresh blood," he finished with a laugh.
Johnathan had finally looked up at the Count, his expression glaring with horror at the younger appearance of his host.
Arabella noticed and decided to intervene before he offended Dracula and bought his one-way ticket to the grave before he could say 'Mina'.
"Ah, Johnathan, I notice that look!" She pointed a finger at him with a playful narrowed gaze. "You must have noticed my handy work. As you remember, Dracula had told me to give him tips to appear younger, and I did. And I must apologise for doubting you, Count. You do look splendid!"
"Ah, well, it is all thanks to you, Arabella," Dracula squinted at the young girl, who simply grinned evilly back, before turning to Johnathan.
"You did all that in one night?" Johnathan asked.
Arabella smirked. "Of course. Women my age have to keep up their appearance, or else we'll never make suitable partners," she spoke, eyeing Dracula from the corner of her eye, who was now seat at the other end of the table. Dracula noticed at rolled his eyes, leaning his head in his slender hand. "Do tell me, Johnny, how old do you think I am?"
Arabella knew the question made men uncomfortable and women furious, that's why she loved it so much. Whatever answer was given made at least one person upset. She noticed Johnathan tense briefly, looking to Dracula for any help, but he merely shrugged.
Arabella also knew that she would be happy with any answer that Johnathan gave, as she acknowledged that she did not look her real age. If Johnathan did say she a day over 464 years, then there would be problems. But that was very unlikely.
"Ah- well. You, surely, cannot be a day over..." Johnathan stuttered and stalled, his gaze flickering between the young woman and the older man. "20? 22 at most?" He questioned.
Arabella raised her brow and remained silent for too long of a second. She looked at Dracula, her brows shooting up in mock offence, causing the Count to hide his amused grin. "Really? 20?"
Johnathan began to spew out an apology. "I'm sorry if my assumption was wrong, Madam. I didn't offend you-"
Arabella and Dracula both burst into a fit of laughter, ceasing Johnathan's penitent words. "My goodness, Johnny!" Arabella exclaimed through giggles while fanning her rosy face. "You do flatter me! Do you give up guessing?" Johnathan immediately nodded. "I'm actually 68," she whispered. She waited for Johnathan's confused and shocked expression before snorting again. "Sorry, sorry. I'm truly 29. 30 in October. But do not tell anyone else. A woman's age cannot be spread - it's practically a law." Johnathan seemed to relax the smallest amount as he nodded. "30 is the age where a woman's looks begin to fade. In fact, I believe that I began to fade around the age of 24. So the fact that you truly believed that I appear as fresh and pretty as a 20-year-old girl, then I must be doing something right."
Every word and judgement falling from Arabella's plump lips were a lie. She didn't believe that women's attractive looks fade at all. If she could, she wouldn't be walking around as a young woman and just embrace all the wrinkles, white hair and smaller frame of her natural body. But older women hardly ever get by in life - people tend to be kinder and more lenient with younger women.
Dracula sighed heavily. "Arabella. Your looks have and never will fade. Whatever you believe you see in a mirror is not the truth. You are a natural beauty, so embrace it."
Arabella stared at him, as did Johnathan. She didn't exactly know where this sudden demeanour change came from. He was never this kind to her. After all, they had ruined each other's lives. Perhaps, it was to keep up the facade that the two were old friends while in the presence of Johnathan, but she can only dream that it was more than that.
