Pinocchio Antiquariato

XIII. A Lady's First Draft

There once was a beautiful little doll, whose hair shone like silver gold, pooling over small shoulders, fluttering down her back in sensuous ringlets. Her eyes were like the River Thames before the world of Industrialization came to take over all of London—not the murky pool you see today. They were blue, like polished sapphires, and they sparkled at every angle you look at them. Her nose was like a polished little pyramid of flesh, complimenting the apple-like roundness of her face. Her cheeks pinkened whenever sunlight caught on them, the same way human flesh knew heat. Her lips were thin but full, and felt as soft as they looked.

One would wonder, was she truly a doll? Or was she a real girl posing as one?

That doll desired one thing, and one thing only: to become what others claimed her to be. A real little girl. We could not grant her what she desired—for if we could, she would have been ours to keep and ours to protect. Alas, she is under the possession of a very, very, very territorial lord.

A problematic gentleman who, despite all efforts of persuasion, would never admit that he was enchanted by her.

The lord was, to say the least, equally as beautiful. He was a contrast to everything that the doll was—an epitome of concealed rage, lust and darkness against an image of innocence, light, and purity. The man was dark-haired, tresses as black as the darkest evening sky. His eyes were red like the blood of his enemies, and his aristocratic nose was high and pointed—like his ego. His thin lips had that perpetual, sinister curl, like any moment, he would be up to no good. He stood tall and proud, and those who fell under his shadow often cowered in fear.

Except that little doll. She could stare death in the face, and she'd remain fearless.

Perhaps she'd be a good influence on the witless lord.

... ... ...

Samantha wasn't too ecstatic meeting with their younger cousin. Not one bit. Yet somehow, her sisters managed to convince her to come along and meet with the young Lucian regardless.

Unlike many from high England society, sisters Samantha, Jen, and Mary Anne gloried in the earlier trends of Queen Victoria's reign. They liked to consider themselves old-fashioned with the way they still favored horse-drawn carriages and voluptuous crinolines (save Jen who had a strong fascination with groomsmen's riding gear), and lavender-powdered hair and pearlescent adornments. Amongst their kind, the three along with Lucian were the most shunned, particularly because of their fondness for humans.

The Seer Sisters were considered the most benevolent of vampire kind, simply because they took no joy feasting on the blood of mortals. They learned to get by with the blood of animals, a lifestyle that many have frowned upon (most especially Lucian who took particular habit in reminding them how it was their fault why Allen Matthews became a 'vegetarian'). Where Lucian's fondness came out of sadistic desire to exploit them, the sisters genuinely cared for their well-being, offering their services to serve as their aide.

But with that being said, they still retained some of their dark nature: their benevolence did not dismiss their cruelty. When wronged, the sisters were worse than the lord of Aster when executing punishment. The greater the weight of a man's sin, the more horrifying their methods of justice were. Even Lucian himself considered them too cruel despite their goodness.

They did share a common interest with the lord somehow. Like Lucian, they desired only the most beautiful and exquisite gifts in exchange for their services. Throughout the years, it became a contest against Lucian in seeing who possessed the more brilliant curiosity for display.