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"DRACULA?" ARABELLA EXCLAIMED. The witch was in shock, she practically looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her brown orbs were as wide as saucers as she took in his appearance. He stood proud, his frame clad in a black suit. His jacket was left open, revealing his white shirt and waistcoat. Around his neck hung a white bow white and a medallion.
The Count seemed surprised by her presence, as his eyes raked over her appearance. The way her dress ended just above her chest. The light blue material complemented her tanned skin and her loose hair framing her face as if she was in a Renaissance painting. Dracula marvelled at the sight of how simplistic she appeared, yet so perfect. His shock soon wore away and a mischievous grin conquered his features.
"Arabella! How splendid to see you again," Dracula approached her table, clasping onto her hand and pulling it up to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to her knuckles. His head travelled up to her ear as one of his fingers skimmed across her bare collar. "He seems a little... feminine for you, don't you think, Arabella," He drawled out her name, fanning his hot breath against the shell of her ear as he talked about Lord Ruthven.
A shiver ran down her spine. She craned her neck to stare into Dracula's eyes. "You could say that," she whispered.
Dracula smiled, standing back up. He eyed the man across from Arabella before shooting the witch a teasing look. "You must excuse me, I don't wish to interrupt," Before Arabella could protest, Dracula walked away to converse with the elderly woman.
Arabella's eyes scorched into the back of Dracula's head as he 'flirted' with the older woman. She heard the woman introduce herself as 'The Grand Duchess Valeria of Augsburg'. Arabella raised her brows in realisation as she jealously watched Dracula press a kiss to her gloved hand.
------
It was 1829. Arabella had followed Dracula to Germany and the two attended a royal ball.
Arabella had worn a pastel pink gown, lace detailing scattered down the skirt and sparkles resting in the bodice. Over her arms were pastel pink opera glove. Arabella had intended to spend the night with the Count, but he had over plans.
The entire night, he pursued the young Valeria, while Arabella fumed at the side. Many men at the ball asked for dances, and even when she was swung around the ballroom by all the dashing men, her eyes and mind still wandered back to the Count.
After her last dance, she excused herself. She stared at the Grand Duchess, Valeria's mother, a small whisper of a curse leaving her mouth. The Duchess' eyes snapped over to the young witch. She excused herself from the conversation she was having and followed after Arabella.
Arabella led the mother to the top floor of the castle, she opened one of the doors. The lavish room resembled a bedroom, one with a balcony overseeing the raging river leading to a waterfall. Arabella gestured for the mother to step closer, her heeled shoes stumbling to stand atop the edge. Arabella heard the door creak open, she snapped her neck at the sound to see Dracula tutting at the witch.
"Arabella, really," he mocked. "You are too easily envious."
Arabella narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm surprised you've gone more than 2 seconds without your prey,"
The vampire chuckled. "If you are going to waste such a good supply of life, at least let me taste her first?" Arabella scoffed, yet she tilted her head, indicating for him to approach the still entranced Duchess as she walked away.
"Make sure the other one is dead by the end of the night," Arabella called over her shoulder. "It's the least you could do after making me suffer the entire night."
------
Arabella saw Dracula stand up from his table. He made quick eye-contact with the girl, nodding his head towards the door. Arabella waited a few moments after Dracula had left to excuse herself from her table. She stepped out on the main deck to see Dracula's fangs sunk into the helmsman's neck, blood trailing down his chin.
Arabella sighed, crossing her arms at the sight. "Do you not have any self-control?" Dracula raised his head, turning to Arabella. He flung the lifeless body overboard, strolling over to the witch. Arabella winced at the sight of his bloodied mouth and chin. "Honestly, if you think that Duchess is not going to suspect anything with blood around your mouth, then you're -" Arabella was cut off when Dracula wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled the brunette closer to his chest, dipping her, his hands spreading across her lower back.
Dracula roughly pushed a kiss to her lips. His tongue licked at Arabella's bottom lip until she opened her lips to let him in. His tongue explored the depths of her mouth. He hauled her body back up to her full height and pinned her against the mucky wall, restaining her wrists above her head. The witch twisted her head away so she could gasp for air, yet Dracula's passionate attack did not halt as he pressed pecks down her neck. His teeth grazed over the scar on the collar that he gave her over a century ago, resulting in a strangled moan to escape her swollen lips.
Dracula raised his head, his nose running up her neck up to her ear. "I looked everywhere for you, Arabella," Dracula's eyes raked over her face. The sailor's blood smeared over her lips and down to her neck - she looked exquisite.
Running her tongue over her bottom lip, she tasted the metallic flavour of blood. "Really?"
"Of course I did," Dracula stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. "Where did you go?"
Arabella shrugged. "I... I just left," Arabella didn't know what to say. She didn't even know why she left. Dracula thought for a second with a squint in his eyes, but then he nodded.
"Well, we should head back, I don't want my food to get cold." And with that, he walked back into the dining room with a smile on his face, Arabella trailing after him.
------
The next morning, Arabella rose from her chambers. Today, she wore an off-white dress - one that appeared worn and faded. Over it, she wore a long cream coloured coat with three large beige buttons clasped to the opposite side of the chest, securing the limited warmth of the sea air to her body.
She stepped into the lounge area. The same people from last night's supper sat or stood around the room - all except for the Grand Duchess. Dracula approached her, holding his hand out to her. Arabella raised one of her perfectly sculpted brows, placing her delicate hand in his larger palm. He raised her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to her knuckles. "Good morning, Madam. Did you sleep well?"
"It was a little bumpy, but otherwise, it was heavenly," Arabella commented. Dracula gestured for her to turn around as she began to unbutton her coat. His hands aided Arabella with peeling the coat from her frame. "Thank you, Count," she taunted, moving to sit opposite Lord Ruthven. "Good morning, my Lord, where is Lady Dorabella this morning?"
"Ah! Let's say she was too weak to arise early this morning," Lord Ruthven smirked. Arabella raised her brows in surprise at his arrogance.
"Oh, really?" Arabella tantalised, clearly seeing through his statement. She looked over at Adisa with a questioning look. Lord Ruthven and Adisa seemed to tense at her silent assumption. Lord Ruthven gulped, turning away.
