Traces of the past

18. Old friendship

Dracula POV

On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate this level of incompetence?

My newly appointed guard, who supposed to be strong, loyal, and handle killings for me and have my back at the same time, he got stabbed.

By a greater force than him, you might think. But no. He got stabbed by a mere chamber man with thin bones; the best weapon he had ever handled was a dirty wipeing cloth...

I would rate it a straight ten.

Petrov looked at me wondering what would be fit to do, how to make the next move. He noticed immediately the change of my look, how I was fighting for air to breathe, and how I was fitting the vampire inside that was threatening to show and take the lead.

For his old age he moved fast in the next few moments. He took off his chemise and going for the open chimney, lit the piece of cloth on fire.

My nose suddenly felt stuffed and the smell of blood was fainter and fainter, and my sense were coming back t normal, or at least at manageable level.

It was hard for me to admit, but the old hag was actually smarter than I thought; or I might have been blind all of his life. 

After he threw the burning fabric at my feet, to basically smoke my face, he went to Armando and like he was in his thirties, he pushed his body outside the room by his shoulders, not before scolding him loud enough for me to hear:

-Come on, stop pretending, make yourself easier so I can push you!

Ah, this smoke became annoying. It darted away the smell of freshly squeezed blood, but now it was intoxicating me.

I kicked the clothes to the side making sure no flame was still visible. The last thing I wanted now was to get my house burned down.

It took me a few second to process the whole thing without leaving any detail out. Since Armando entered and since the hit of blood hit my nose, all the focus in my dead brain shifted to two facts: you have human blood in front of you, even if it was sick, the smell still aroused my sense and the second, your guard is stupid and weak enough to get himself stabbed on the first week of his duty.

For the first time something that was not exciting, not bloody and not murderous caught my attention.

The worry Petrov was displaying was not just a superficial one: he was ready to sacrifice things for me, and not vain, like fairy tales heroes do, but with an actual thought put into it.

A hint of pain made me lose my balance. But it was just a moment. 

Maybe I have been treating him too bad all this time, maybe he cared for me more than any of my past and present servants. 

I was feeling something, but was it regret? And for a human being?

Anyway, onto the next fact that slipped my mind: the cheeky Reth. How could he stab one of my servants?

I slowly remembered their encounter and changed my opinion. 

I mean, he had revenge reasons to do it, but the way of doing it was not quite convincing. He didn't seem to be impulsive, yet, from what I saw , the wound was not that deep and fast made, as if they quarreled a bit and Reth slipped the dagger into his belly.

-Your majesty! Petrov's voice brought me to reality.

-Oh..

-What is is, Petrov?

I was quite dizzy from all that smoke and not only, but I did not want to sit down. It seemed that giving a little into weakness means more weakness coming.