Eternal Night

(III) Chapter 39: A New Dawn

It was an hour before dawn, but the sitting room of Augustine's old chambers remained abuzz with activity and conversation. Frankie continued to nurse yet another glass of blood – she had lost count after a while, especially when Vladislaus continued to insist on refilling her glass every time she neared the dregs; whether it was out of worry or mere consideration, she wasn't quite sure – but her eyes continued to dance about the room, taking in the scene before her.

She could barely recall the last time her entire family had been gathered like this – her mother and father, her aunt and uncle, brother and sister, her cousins, their spouses, even her maker... but what made this all the sweeter was seeing them interact and blend with her new family, the Dracul Sânge. While there were still losses to be felt – it was still so strange to not have the sound of Danny's voice or Carmen's distinct laughter anywhere in the room – Frankie could not deny that this little scene, the mere privilege of being surrounded by the most important people in her life...

It was a miracle.

A tender mercy.

Something out of a dream.

Though he had yet to confess as much, she knew that Vlad felt very similar – cognizant of those still missing, but privately overwhelmed by the gratitude he felt to have not only his dearest friend, but his children, all of them, at his side once more.

After everything they had endured – separately and together – the likelihood of such an unfathomable gift had never even crossed Dracula's mind. And yet here they were, living that miracle. She watched him, her blood-bound husband, as he and the Bernardini's conversed, noting how Vlad's eyes would occasionally scan the room as if to reassure himself that this was real, that this wasn't a dream. He'd look at Alessia and Hal, his gaze lingering on them the longest, before his eyes would then find hers, and wave after wave of love and veneration would then wash down their shared bond, warming her veins, filling her.

"How are you feeling?" Frankie heard her father inquire, Louis making his way to sit down at his daughter's side on the sofa where she had taken up residence.

She looked over at him, blood-stained lips curving gently into a serene smile. It was still so strange seeing him again, hearing his voice, feeling his energy... as if he had never been absent in the first place, as if the last two hundred years had never taken place, even if some part of her would always remember that it had.

"Much better," she answered.

Louis nodded once and then in unison, their gazes turned back to those in the room, quietly observing the scene, taking in the expressions, the conversations.

"It's strange," he said after a while, his attention still lingering safely on his wife, though Frankie could tell that he was keeping an eye on Dracula in his periphery.

"What is?"

"This," and he motioned with his hand to their present company. "When that witch marked you all those years ago," and their eyes both diverted to Mariella for a moment, "I never would have believed I'd live to see this... Dracul and his children, mingling with my family. My own daughter his queen." His gaze fell on her, a meaningful look in his eyes. "So much has changed," he explained. "You most of all."

"Not in a bad way, I hope?"

He immediately shook his head.

"Not remotely," he said with a tender smile. "I've never seen you so whole before, so content."

Frankie smiled back, but wasn't sure how to even reply to such a statement. Fortunately, Louis continued before she could even sort that out.

"Still though... it's Dracula. That's going to take some getting used to."