Princes of the Undead

Part 37

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"My father brought us here as boys."

It had taken them half an hour of climbing up the mountain side, to reach the special place Dracula had wanted to show her. At first, when Agatha suggested going somewhere special to talk things through, Dracula had come up short. It had been so long since he had truly lived here, even longer than the time he had been physically absent, as before Agatha had come into his life, and returned him to the sunlight, Dracula struggled to call what he was doing anything close to 'living'. Still as they wound their way out of the town, and began to climb up the mountain, Dracula had had an idea, and that idea meant they had to park the jeep in a layby and finish the rest of the climb on foot.

"It's...it's incredible."

Turning around to smile at Agatha, Dracula savoured the ability to watch her openly, to drink in her pleasure and fear no shame, or reprisals.

"After he became Voivode of Wallacia my father brought me and my eldest brother up here. He made us climb the way ourselves and when we got to the top, he showed us that our lands reached even further than we could see, that everything to the horizon was now under his duty of care. He made us swear on our honour, that if the responsibility should one day fall on our shoulders to rule, that we would protect these lands with our very lives if needed."

Moving to tuck herself in against his side, Agatha smiled at the thought of a young Vlad scampering up these slopes, trailing in the wake of the father and brother, he both adored and resented.

"Were you a dutiful son, did you keep your promise?"

"To the best of my ability, my struggles are part of history, and best left there I think." Dracula sighed, pushing away the evocative memories of his past.

"I brought you here because unlike any other place I know, this place holds only precious memories for me. I have never shown it to another soul, I didn't even bring my own sons here, although I meant to from time to time, but there never seemed to be the right moment..." Dracula trailed off, the thoughts of his dead son's still pained him.

"Thank you for sharing it with me." Agatha could feel her throat closing up, as she fought against tears. "I only wish I had such a place to show you, but I'm afraid my childhood home is long since demolished, to make way for something new. Such is the price of growing up in a city I think."

"I didn't know that?" Dracula was almost surprised by the revelation, his brow puckering. "How can I not know that?"

"You cannot know everything about everyone you feed off of surely?" Agatha teased him. "Imagine the inane minutia you would have to file away. Did you think I gained my broad education whilst buried away in some little village?"

"I...I honestly hadn't thought about it. I suppose I should have, but other than what you have told me about your family, I suppose I always think of you as you are now, my very own Aphrodite sprung fully formed from the sea."

"Now who is stretching a metaphor?" Agatha scoffed, yet she was secretly pleased by his flattery. "I was raised in Dordrecht, the eldest daughter of an educated second son of a wealthy trader, who did not enjoy his father or elder's brother's skill with money. The only thing my father didn't sell to satisfy his need to drink or gamble was his precious books, something I was very grateful for. Before mother died, he would even tutor me, we were very close before..."

Tightening his grip on her, Dracula pressed a kiss to her crown. "I am sorry you had a difficult childhood, it is something I can empathise with." He added, as if that wasn't the understatement of the year, which they both knew it to be.