Eternal Night

(III) Chapter 39: A New Dawn

"Coronation is in three days. I guess that gives you a little bit of time to adjust to the idea," she replied with a sly smirk, raising her glass back to her lips. Louis snorted quietly.

"Tongue still sharp, I see," he noted with a false sense of disapproval, a single thick brow arched. Frankie's grin widened as she leaned to the side so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"Sharper than ever. Though I have fond memories of you constantly blaming that on Maman," she said, earning a chuckle from him.

"I still do. Your tongue and your bullheadedness are definitely her fault."

"We both know I got the latter from you – don't try to deny it now."

That earned another laugh.

Oh, how she had missed the sound of it – that deep, resonating baritone that warmed her from the inside out.

An easy silence settled between them for a spell, and as Frankie eventually straightened once more to refill her glass, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the way in which her father was now carefully watching Vlad as he was pulled into conversation with her aunt, uncle, and Eduardo. There was an easiness between them that Frankie suspected her father didn't know what to make of.

"He's not at all what we were led to believe, you know," she mentioned in lower tones, not wishing to be overheard. Louis offered no reply other than some a vague gesture of acknowledgement, but that's when she felt it – that old familiar need for her father's approval, something most daughters never fully grew out of, she least of all, she was now realizing.

"The man has his demons," Louis replied a little gruffly, though his expression otherwise remained sphinxlike, betraying nothing, "and a reputation..."

"I'm no saint either, Papa, as you well know. As for his demons... well... let's just say I had my share of them too, and would still have to this day were it not for him," she answered in turn, her response earning her his full attention then. She could see without him even needing to utter a word that her father had so many unspoken questions at that, and concerns. But instead of trying to pass off his own fears onto her, he asked,

"Are you happy with him, ma fille? I could not bear for you to be trapped in another loveless marriage, to watch you endure another Alphonse..."

Frankie immediately reached for his hand and squeezed it, her eyes already welling with tears, moved by his gentleness, his concern. She had missed it. Oh, she had missed him so much, it nearly shattered her heart just thinking about it.

"I love him, Papa, with everything that I am," she whispered, voice trembling with emotion as she poured her whole soul into the words. "And he loves me. I have no reason to doubt that."

Louis impenetrable expression fractured just a little as the corner of his lip twitched, his attention diverting for just an instant to steal yet another quick glance at Dracula. Pleased by whatever it was he saw, the Duke sighed and turned his hand over in Francesca's so he could squeeze her fingers back in reassurance.

"Then I am content."

----

The three evenings came and went, and soon Francesca found herself hours away from her coronation, wide-awake, rest evading her. It was early afternoon, which meant the vast majority of the palace and the city was already fast asleep, but Frankie continued to wander the halls, haunting the meandering corridors, silent as a specter, lost in the mire of her own thoughts.

Her wanderings inevitably led her to the source of her restlessness – the throne room.

She paused in the center of the spacious chamber, quietly studying the formidable structure that was Dracula's oversized throne – the tall back, the head of a horned dragon carved into the crest rail, its sapphire studded eyes studying her in turn. It would have been an intimidating spectacle on its own, but at its side was its equally impressive companion – but instead of a dragon seemingly sitting atop the dais there was a lion with amethysts for eyes, framed by a kingly mane, it's curling tail carved around the back leg of the seat.