"Only a week had passed since my father's death when Rosetta and I finally decided to go through his office. It had been tough coming to the decision to do so, but it was imperative that it was done. We weren't sure if there were any documents still left to be signed or paperwork to go through, but we had to find it to ensure everything stayed on track.
For days, we went through all the old letters and agreements he had left behind. It wasn't the most pleasant of jobs, but it was nice to be able to see my father's handwriting. While I hadn't cared for it before, it now brought with it comfort. We read each of the letters, needing to decide whether they were current or older and sort them accordingly. The only things we found that had us both interested enough to take a break and read them fully were the letters between my father and Henry discussing our eventual marriage.
We went through piles of papers, reading each over nearly three times to ensure we weren't missing anything important. Not only that, but I had limited time to learn everything that my father had gathered during the years.
Since he had passed, I was to be the next Count of Transylvania. If I wanted to be good at this, which I did, I needed to have a widely based knowledge of my people, their history, the things my father had already discussed, and the things he had wanted to change in the months before he died. I was his legacy. I had to continue what he had started.
"Vladimir? I think you should look this one over.' Rosetta spoke from across the room of my father's office. She was standing behind his desk, a drawer open beside her. It was the eighth day of reorganizing his room. In her hands was a bulging envelope, the corners of it aged by the years.
I tilted my head as I stared at the large envelope, quick to walk to her side. I carefully took it from her and turned it over in my hands, finding that it had yet to be open. It was addressed to my father without any return address. 'That's strange.' I had never known father to be someone who refused to open mail. I glanced down into the drawer Rosetta had discovered it from, finding it to be directly in his sight. I had thought it to be a mistake, simply a forgotten letter as the years passed, but the placement told me otherwise. Father hadn't opened this letter on purpose.
I wondered why as I began cutting into the top of the envelope with Rosetta's eyes intently locked on the envelope as well. As soon as the paper was split, I could see what had caused it to bulge. I shook the contents out into my hand, surprised to see a palm-sized crimson jewel fall out with the letter. I placed the jewel in my other hand, interested in the letter that had fallen out with it. I opened it, eyes widening in confusion as I read through the letter.
Dear Alistair,
The time has come for you to join your past ancestors in leaving this human life behind. Your father hasn't explained any of this to you, but I promise in due time you'll understand everything. In the past, we have become great warriors in order to protect our people. When we are humans, there is only a certain amount of damage we can do, a certain amount of respect and trust we can gain. We are weak as humans. We are pathetic. But, in this form we are much more. We are stronger and more reliable. We are deadlier. We are better protectors of Transylvania. With this power, illness will no longer affect you. You will be the strongest man alive and it's only one step away.
Join your family, Alistair.
Harness the power of the gem.
I swallowed as I looked it over, turning it over to see if there was more but that was it. It said nothing else, nor was it signed. Anger began overpowering my confusion, not understanding how a person could dare send my father a letter that spoke of another power, that spoke of becoming stronger than any illness. It felt like a cruel, sick joke.
I glared down at the gem, relieved my father hadn't opened this letter. I wasn't sure of the power this letter spoke of but it didn't sound real. It sounded like false hope. I clutched the gem in my hand before throwing it across the room where it shattered upon contact with the ground, red smoke slowly twisting it out of the broken pieces, but I paid it no attention. I began tearing up the letter, letting the pieces scatter and fall to the floor.
'What was it? What did it say?' Rosetta placed her hand carefully on my arm, her calm voice breaking through my anger. I briefly wondered what I would have done if her voice hadn't soothed me.
I hesitantly raised my eyes in her direction, letting out only a sigh. 'Nothing of importance, I'm afraid, just a citizen playing a cruel joke upon my father. Let us leave. We've been spending too much time here.' I scanned the familiar walls of my father's office. I had spent many days in my childhood sitting in here, watching as father quietly hummed through his work without so much as a complaint.
The images were dull as I recalled them as best I could, remembering how the light had shined through behind the curtains in the early mornings. The smell of old books hung in the air, refusing to be pulled away.
Those had been good days.
'I think that sounds splendid,' Rosetta spoke up after several seconds of silence passed. She slid her arm to lock around mine, her eyes trained on the remnants of the jewel I had shattered.
I placed my hand over hers, securing it in the bend of my arm, and walked her out of the room as the servants quietly shuffled in to take care of the mess. I wasn't giving the gem much thought, not until we stepped through the door frame and into the hallway. I held it back as much as I could, not wanting to doubt my health for any amount of time, but by the time we reached the end of the hallway the pain in my throat was too much. I slowed and carefully pulled my arm free from Rosetta's, coughing directly into the inside of my arm. Chills began to move down my back as familiarity swarmed across me.
They had long warned that yellow fever was highly contagious, but us Draculas were known for our strong immune systems. It was why we had first been surprised that my father had caught the deadly plague and why none of us would have imagined him dying. Yet, as I began to cough uncontrollably into my arm, I feared that whatever mutation my father had in his genetics that had allowed him to grow sick now lived within me.
As my coughing slowed, I tried to assure my slight panic that I had stood in the rain for hours at my father's funeral. If anything, it was most likely a small cold. It wasn't yellow fever. I wouldn't die like my father, not yet, not when Rosetta had just arrived.
'Oh dear.' The way Rosetta pushed her eyebrows together told me I wasn't alone in my assumptions. It brought a small amount of comfort. I could see her thoughts moving behind her eyes, how they examined every detail of my face and the sleeve I had coughed into.
I attempted a smile, wishing she would smile back and we could pretend that it hadn't happened. I made a silent prayer that it was just a cold and nothing more. I wanted to hold my breath as I began wondering what Rosetta's immune system was like. Invea was a different land of different plagues and illnesses. I had no way of knowing whether she was better off than I was, or worse.
'Perhaps I just need a glass of water,' I suggested, unsure whether I was trying to convince her or myself. As Rosetta reached for my hand again, I kept it by my side. If she was weaker than I was, the last thing I wanted was for her to catch whatever I had.
I led her to the kitchen as silence engulfed us. I became focused on the water, focused on the idea that I was overthinking the whole situation. My mind drifted back to the crimson jewel, how it had shimmered at me in the lighting. It had taunted me in the moment and continued to taunt me now. Who would do such a thing?
I glanced at Rosetta as she wandered throughout the kitchen, taking in all the new sights that she still wasn't entirely used to, and found myself to the bucket of boiled water that had finally cooled enough for drinking. I dipped a cup within it, quickly raising it to my parted lips. The water soothed my aching throat. While the silence continued, I found myself thankful that I was able to not speak and she would understand. Before my thoughts moved away from her again, I wondered if she thought the same.
Why hadn't father opened the letter? The water was halfway gone now. I tried to imagine the kind of person that would send such a joke to my father. I saw them as a political enemy, someone that would seek pleasure in my father's removal or fall.
In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think if the letter had held some truth to it. Had my father opened it, would he have been saved from his death? Magic happened every now and then, but certainly not in Transylvania. I sighed, shutting my eyes as I finished my water and slouched myself against the counter.
I missed my father more than words could describe. It wasn't a pain that lasted every moment of the day, but a pain that was numb until you felt most vulnerable. It would strike you when you least expected it.
The first time I had broken down since the funeral had been when Rosetta and I had gone to bed that night and I failed to hear father's quill hitting his parchment and his humming. The lack of sound was enough to bring all the emotions out.
I could handle being inside father's office or his bedroom, it was only the small things that pulled and tugged at my heart. It was the little impressions he had left on my life that hurt the most.
'Are you alright, Vladimir?'
Her angelic-like voice released me from my depressing thoughts. The images of my father began fading away behind my closed eyelids, her face replacing each piece that fell away. My image of her was smiling at me, her hand reached out towards me. This Rosetta tilted her head in a way that caused her fiery waves to fall over her shoulder.
I inhaled a deep breath and broke away from the image, opening my eyes and turning to face her; to face my wife. I was met by concerned emerald eyes that shined brighter than any star I had ever seen. I began to smile. While it was weak, it wasn't forced.
I had long wondered why my father had been determined to have me marry before his passing, but now I understood. I wouldn't have been able to handle myself had it just been myself and the servants. There would have been no silver lining. There would have been no shred of happiness left. I wouldn't have been able to recover.
With Rosetta, I was able to have a light in the dark.
'I'm alright, darling. I was just thinking of my father.' I said softly, reaching out to caress her cheek. I tucked the hair behind her shoulder again, letting my fingers carefully move across her skin. I traced her jawline, focusing upon how smooth her skin was. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she was a porcelain doll.
Her face relaxed as she tilted into my hand, letting a sigh out from between her lips. While the touches we shared were few and far between, there was something relieving about these small gestures. 'You know, you have an important event coming up soon.'
'Oh?' I knew what she was talking about, but decided to let her carry the conversation. I swallowed hard as the pain in my throat returned, setting off my own concern.
'With you becoming the new Count, I was thinking, perhaps...' Rosetta trailed off, her eyes glancing towards servants that carefully moved around us. Her smile began to raise in one corner of her lips at first, a redness slowly creeping up onto her skin. 'We should celebrate. I do believe that it is an honor to be Count.'
I wasn't sure if I had the energy for a celebration, but her eyes were dazzling at me and her smile was wide. How could I ever say no? 'It is. Celebrating could be alright. Whatever you would like to do, I shall do it.' I promised as I carefully pulled her hand into my free one, giving it a ginger squeeze.
As the irritation in my throat began to grow, I began to think when the first moment I could sneak away to the medics wing would be. I placed a gentle kiss to Rosetta's forehead, knowing that I would want to do it while she slept. The last thing she needed was to worry about me.
I would take care of this oncoming sickness as soon as I was able. If it was like anything else I had faced before, which I prayed it was, it would hardly be a problem. I didn't believe there was any chance I could have caught father's yellow fever.
So long as it wasn't that, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.
Or, so I thought."