The Vampire Stefan

Part 1 Chapter 2

Margarethe and I could not find the time to look for my rightfully owned house that I had so recently inherited, so we rented a flat close to where the king would be saying his speech not a hour from now. We got a nice room, but nothing special to describe. There were two beds, a bathroom, and a nice dresser/vanity. Not that we had much to put in the dresser anyway. We could barely afford this flat as it was. But Margarethe and I were to be living large soon enough, once I got a career. First I would have to be educated, but I wasn't sure how that would turn out. I doubted that Margarethe would fancy an education either; she was a fast writer, so I suppose that she would land a job as a scribe for a wealthy man. Margarethe wanted to get around to teaching me to read and write, but I was illiterate then, still am to this day. I could sign my name, write down certain numbers, and a few phrases, but other than that I hadn't the slightest clue on the formation of letters.

But money was better than being in complete poverty, no matter the amount. Especially if you had nothing to begin with, nothing to loose at something else.

~We stopped at a pub, Margarethe and I. Not for a drink, but to meet the natives, get a clue of the personalities here in London, because I'd never met people outside of Bristol, with the same personality.

There was high talk of the king's speech coming up, much excitement, but just as much disapproval. He said that taxes would be decreasing by the pound toward the end of the month.

"It's going to happen. Haven't you heard of faith?" One of the supporters, loyal to the king called out to the rest of the lads and lasses in the pub. Half of em cheered, the other half groaned. A far from sober man screamed,

"We've had enough of the notional taxes refines!" He called. "Whatever rubbish they're deciding to throw at us, we'll be throwing right back! Y'd be a loyalist, er an idiot to think otherwise!" He took another sip of a beer mug that he'd been holding in his hand for god knows how long. "Whatever the king has got in store, we've got that, doubled!" He called then fainted dead away. His head breaking his fall.

"Charming." Margarethe rolled her eyes and sighed. "He'll get so drunk, he won't be able to spell hangover when he waked up."

"They're probably all excited because they just got their whiskey taxes taken off."

"I never had the appeal to whiskey." Margarethe commented. "It's made from corn."

"But you're a sucker for some age old wine." I whispered in her ear. "That's made from grapes."

"That's different." She said. "I'm going to go outside for a bit. The townsfolk are all preparing for the king, and I could use some fresh air. It smells like the inside of a beer bottle I here."

"I wouldn't be surprised if that's what this place is." I kissed her on the cheek and she walked away. I carefully eyed the rest of the men in the bar, just in case they forgot to keep their eyes on their own paper.

"She your's?" A somewhat sober man asked me as he walked over.

"Yeah. Getting married to a girl that won't drink whiskey."

"What about beer?" He said and I turned to look at him.

I could tell instantly that he was wealthy, the top of the upper class just by the way he dressed.

Silks and animal fur covered him, and his face was rather handsome. He looked to be about my age, or younger. About twenty-three I would say.

"She's never been much of a fan of beer either, but she has tipped the bottle a couple of times."

"Ah." He responded and looked another way, then looked back at me and stuck out a hand.

"Nicholas de Beauvoir. But there isn't a need to address me by my full title."