There is Blood in The Water (bxb)

VI.

Dressing up to meet the Count felt a lot like paying close attention to the decor of my own funeral. I had a new suit made for the occasion - or to put it better, I asked my best tailor to add lace and silver to a few required spots. I wanted to look not just proper, but perfect, and I could not lie to myself that it wasn't to impress the Count. 

I found it most appropriate to make a good impression on someone who creates horror stories for children to tell - not out of fear, but out of all due respect.

"Beth dear would you-" my voice broke off, while I was gesturing towards my nightstand for the small rose I was going to wear on the suit... 

The house answered my request with stubborn silence, so I just walked over to the cupboard myself and fixed the flower to my chest. I have to stop calling out to a maid, that I have fired weeks ago - it makes me feel insane.

Or I need a new maid...

A glance in the mirror was enough to decide, I was ready to go. My hair standing in its most un-messy form, brushed back, waves tamed as far as anyone can judge. My face was a bit ill, my cheekbones out as if I haven't eaten in a while - which was anything but true. Maybe some sort of sickness caught me in the midst of all this newfound adventure... Or is this simply the effect of the Vampiric blood?

Questions, I might find an answer for, if I just get going.

But where? 

This was one puzzle piece I was yet to find. The Count did not leave his address, probably assuming I knew where his mansion was located - which I did not. Sure, I have lived a good 10 years on the Westside, but I was mostly imprisoned in the "comfort" of the D'ourville household. 

That is, until it burnt down, of course. 

A small smile made it to my lips, as I fixed my sleeves and began walking to my front door. If nothing else, I'll drive around the neighbourhoods until I find the right place.

Deep in my thoughts, and the lingering memory of the man I was going to visit, I stepped out of the house, only to be met with the sight of a pitch-black carriage waiting at the foot of my garden.

The horses were dark and restless, and the side of the car was painted with gold, showing off a detailed, richly decorated "M" that I have presumed to be the Montgomery family crest.

"Classy." I mumbled, both taken aback and intimidated that he had sent for me. It left a bad taste in my mouth, that a monster of his kind knew where I lived, and thanks to Beth, had free entrance to my home. 

I thought of him as a beast in my head, yet every time we have met in person, I couldn't utter a simple word without thinking twice. Even when I had just read his letter, the very idea that he stood in my room once, made me question every move I had made. Despite my best efforts to treat him accordingly to his nature, as I could with Reinar, something inside me kept pushing my head down and locking my lips - forcing such deep politeness out of me that no one could have ever experienced before. He made me feel like a performer, on an empty stage, in front of their most critical of audiences.

If this feeling was fear or be it even envy, I could not dare to guess.

Without wasting any more of my time, I made my way to the carriage, my heart skipping beats every time the horses made a louder or unexpected noise. 

I had nothing to lose, yet every nerve in my body was prepared for war - I felt hunted. My eyes were stuck on the driver - it was most definitely a woman, oddly enough, but she did not move or even glance in my direction as I neared her. Ominously, her face was covered with one of those masks that one would see at a Venice parade.