I settle into my usual spot on my bed which allows me to watch the door. I'm currently awaiting my vampiric maid, more commonly known as Master Dorian, to deliver my dinner. I'm more excited about Dorian's visit than the bland food though. While I eat, we always get into some sort of interesting conversation about an Earth word he doesn't understand or about his recent problems with the elves in Dryadale.
Fortunately for my heart, these conversations have yet to end with a fleeting kiss again. I'm unable to stop myself from turning red as I regrettably recall the momentary kiss between Dorian and me. It was far too quick for it to be considered a proper kiss, but lips had touched, so it was a kiss by definition. Ah, stop thinking about it! I choose to distract myself with Cat as I chase him around my room, eventually scooping him up into my arms. I shower the very unwilling subject with many kisses.
"I love you to pieces. Oh, yes I do! I love y..." My voice trails off when I take account of Dorian who's standing in front of my closing door with a tray in his hand.
"You seem to have become very fond of that cat," He comments, following close behind me as I return to my former seat on my bed.
"There are many things I have become fond of," I say, staring directly at him before I disdainfully look down at the tray of food that Dorian just placed into my lap, "These bland meals are not one of them." He sits down next to me, patiently awaiting me to eat my dinner, but I continue talking, "I can't eat another meal of pork or else I'm going to turn into a pig myself! Don't you guys have any street vendors around here?"
A hum of thought emits from his mouth before he responds, "Witches sell broiled rats and veil on the side of the roads in Magania. Most of their food is cursed though, so I doubt that you would want to try it."
"What about pizza? Do you guys have that?" I know I'm being ridiculous, considering the world I'm currently in, but I'm a desperate woman that's succumbing to her period cravings.
"Peet-sah?" I bite back the laughter bubbling in my throat after he butchered the word like a toddler. "I'll have Callon ask the chefs."
I cross my fingers while I watch Dorian converse with Callon who appears within a second of Dorian bellowing his name.
Ten grueling minutes of waiting pass by until Callon finally comes back to my room. Dorian and I turn our heads in his direction, causing him to swallow hard. He casts his gaze to the floor, nervously fumbling with his hands.
He relays the inevitably bad news to us, "The chefs cannot make you any pizza, Miss. They asked me to send their apologies for their lack of knowledge."
"It's fine," I brush off his apology, and immediately the tension in his body unravels. "Because I can make it myself! Who needs chefs when you have me?"
With that declaration, I jump off my bed, turning to Dorian for a hint of approval, instead, all I get is a mocking smile.
"I sincerely doubt your ability to cook," Dorian snickers as if he had made the best joke in his whole entire life.
"And I sincerely doubt your doubt in me!" I shoot back, then stomp toward my door, only to have Callon stand in my way.
"Please, Miss, just–..."
He suddenly shut his mouth, red eyes trained on something behind me. I don't need to turn around to know that it's Dorian who is currently instilling fear into poor Callon.
"I'll grant you permission to use my kitchen," Dorian concedes, much to my astonishment. I whirl around to face him with a grin, almost, just almost hugging him out of gratitude. "But! You must allow Callon to accompany you, and I'd also like you to provide me with some of this..."
"Pizza," I fill in the gap in his sentence.
"Right, peet-sah. I want to taste this human delicacy in exchange for letting you use my kitchen."
I stick out my hand, and Dorian reluctantly shakes it as I cheer, "It's a deal!"
Callon, me, and Cat, who has decided to follow me, set off toward the kitchen. I had been expecting a kitchen much like the one back at my childhood home. A standard oven, small sink, pots, pans, and a few cooking utensils. Boy, was I gravely incorrect.
My mouth falls open as I take in the sight of the grand kitchen. Two wooden tables sit in the middle. In the center of the tables, lay all types of produce. From tomatoes to peppers, all of it is there for the taking. Then, there are the appliances. The standard oven of my world is replaced with a ginormous metal box that looks as though you could cook an entire person inside of it. The door is in the shape of a half circle that is curved at the top and flattened into a long line at the bottom with a handle in the center. Yeah, you can definitely fit a person through that door.
I glance over to Callon. The question concerning if these vampires have ever cooked a person in that oven hangs on my tongue. I push it away and set to work making the pizza. As I expected, it's a little challenging to navigate the large kitchen, and even more challenging to work the oven from hell.
A pizza that normally takes me only thirty or so minutes to get into the oven took me over an hour. I sigh as I wash my flour-caked hands off in the water basin, watching as Cat crawls up Callon's pant leg.
Callon unsuccessfully attempts to shake Cat off of him. "Perhaps a bit of cat meat would heighten the flavor of tonight's dinner?"
I gasp at his suggestion, "Don't be so mean to Cat, or else I'll tell Dori!"
At the mention of my nickname for Dorian, Callon shifts his gaze over to me. His mouth opens, then closes as he clenches his jaw. I dry off my hands, patiently waiting for him to get out whatever is on his mind.
"Is 'Dori' how you are referring to Master Dorian?" He finally asks, to which I nod my head. "Oh, Master Dorian never lets anyone refer to him by anything other than his given name." His voice lowers as he adds, "I guess he has taken a fancy to you, Miss."
"In that case, I feel I must inform you of something. It pertains to Master Dorian," He takes a deep breath, red eyes glistening in the all-too-bright lights from above before his gaze hardens. I stiffen involuntarily at the coldness searing through me.
"Ever since you were brought to this manor, he has slowly begun to change. Those frequent smiles and laughing fits of his had never happened before, spare for the select few times when he was a baby. But, after his mother passed, he didn't show a shred of happiness, just pure despair. He was even given the second name of 'Princeps Tristitiae'."
A slight smile appears on his melancholic face. "I must admit it is-...was a befitting name. All he did was frown, and he had a very good reason to. For, his whole life was filled with misfortune, almost as if he was cursed. It was only until you showed up that this misfortune seemed to disappear. In turn, the true Master Dorian has finally shown face, and it is all because of you, Miss."
My cheeks rise as I begin smiling, though I make sure to turn around before Callon takes notice of this. I slap my cheeks lightly a couple of times, attempting to regain my composure. Come on, C–...My thoughts turn to mush at the sight of flames erupting from the crevices of the door of the oven from hell.
"Callon, get the fire extinguisher!" I yell.
"Fire extinguisher? What is—..."
"Water, just get water! A lot of it!'
It turns out that the oven from hell reaches well past four-hundred degrees fairly quickly. After learning that through nearly burning down the kitchen, I remake the pizza. This time, I only put the pizza in the oven for two minutes before tasking Callon with taking it out. Fortunately, this pizza isn't burnt to a crisp, instead, it's browned perfectly at the top.
With far too much excitement brimming in me, I erratically cut the pizza, then hurry out of the kitchen. I slow my speed-walking down after almost tripping over Cat one too many times. There's no way I'll drop this perfection of a pizza on the ground. I went through far too much trouble to have to make another one! My feet come to a stop before the doors leading into the dining hall.
"Alright, you got this!" I reassure myself, "If he doesn't like it, then...then there will be more for me!"
One unsteady breath is taken in, then I push open the doors with a grand smile on my face. As long as I pretend that I didn't cause a fire, he'll never, ever know. That is unless Callon tells him, which I hope with all my might that he doesn't. And if he does, then I'll throw Callon's ass in that damn oven myself.
I finish serving Dorian as fast as I can, then I gather my slices of pizza, intending to make a quick getaway to my room so I chow down. Unfortunately, Dorian's hand grabs mine, forcing me to stop.
"Sit."
He pulls the closest chair to his right out from under the table, motioning for me to take my seat. I oblige, secretly happy that he had decided to allow me to accompany him. Well, that is until I let my eyes wander over to the area where that dead woman had once laid. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, I force myself to look back at Dorian, only to see something horrendous. He's dining away with a fork and knife. A fork and knife! With pizza!
"You monster!" I shout at him, making him freeze in place just as he's about to place his fork into his mouth. Quickly, I confiscated his utensils while educating him on the ways of eating pizza, "Eating pizza with anything other than your hands is a disgrace!"
"Human culture is odd," He notes before awkwardly picking up the pizza by the crust. "How...?"
I laugh at him and pick up the slice of pizza on my plate to show him how to hold it. He narrows his eyes, intently studying my hand positions. Finally, his hands readjust to perfectly mimic my own.
Now, it's my turn to watch him as he takes his first bite of the pizza. Although I try to be discreet about my staring, I'm pretty sure he has noticed, especially since he keeps trading his gaze between me and his pizza while he chews.
"This taste..."
He hates it? But, the expression on his face doesn't look like one of disgust. He loves it? But, then again, he's not taking another bite of his pizza. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, desperate for him to finish his sentence.
"It's extraordinary, unlike anything I've ever tasted before," He mutters, earning a smile from me. "I take back my doubts from earlier."
Our conversation falls flat from there as we both eagerly stuff our faces with the doughy goodness that makes up pizza. Only when there is not a single crumb of food left on our plates, do we begin talking once more.
"I have more 'human delicacies', besides pizza, that I can share with you," I offer, as I find myself wanting to continue watching Dorian enjoy my cooking.
"From here on out, you are to cook my dinners then," He declares with a satisfied smile.
"Like a wife," I accidentally let my thoughts slip from my mouth.
I cringe, awaiting some sort of scoff or haughty laugh from Dorian. Instead, he silently stares at me. No sign of a smile or a frown lay on his face, just a thin line full of no particular emotion.
Finally, he corrects me, "It's not 'like a wife'." He leans forward in his seat, prompting me to lean backward. Taking note of this, he settles himself back against his chair, sighing. "You are my wife, or, at least, you will be."
No comment is offered from me. I almost will myself to speak but cannot do so at the sight of Dorian's face. His lips are pulled into a deep frown, and his eyes are practically pleading for me to smile or at least say something, yet I remain silent.
"Are you opposed to it?" It practically seems as if he has to force that question out of his mouth.
Although the answer to his question comes to me easily, I do not dare to entertain him with it. Instead, I bid him a quiet good night, hastily making my way to the doors before I screw myself over and run back to him.
As I open the doors, his voice finds its way to me, "I may have been opposed to it before, but that is in the past, Cyra."
I say nothing yet again. The space in which my voice should have filled is taken up by the sound of the doors slamming shut behind me. I desperately try not to let his words reach my heart. Despite my efforts, my heart pounds against my ribcage, as if I'm running instead of walking back to my room.
I shouldn't let my heart beat in such a way just because that beast was able to murmur a few pretty words to me. I need to remain unphased. I need to remember that I must kill that vampire. I need to–...As I walk into my room, my resolve crumbles into pieces. I take my dagger, gripping it so hard that the whites of my knuckles show through my skin, and slice the dagger through the open air. All I envision before me is myself. For, I, regrettably, can no longer think of bringing the dagger through Dorian's heart without guilt and pain riddling my own.
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Looks like Dori has a bit of a crush 😏
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