Wife of Vladimir

“I was born December second of eighteen thirty-six. I was told that night had been the first snow of the year, and my birth directly followed. It had been a beautiful scene; snowflakes were gracefully twirling through the sky as they sought a place to land, trees gingerly accepting each particle of snow upon their branches, and how the lakes began to freeze over just hours before the snow had fallen. It was a picture straight from a dream. Father insisted that despite the calming scenery, my mother was quite the opposite when I was brought into the world. We were lucky even to survive together.

I barely remember my own mother. Faint memories fill my head of her even now, all these years since her passing. She was a beautiful woman who blessed all those she spoke with. Her eyes would twinkle underneath the night sky whenever she’d comfort me while nightmares plagued my dreams, and she always smelled of sweet flowers and honey. What I remembered the most, however, was how much my father adored her.

I grew up watching him caress her cheek every chance he got. He would spin her around the room while she laughed endlessly. Father was always hugging her, peppering kisses across her face. I, honestly, felt as though my parents were born from a fairytale with how they lived. Their love was unmatchable. I knew from a young age that it was how I wanted to be with my future wife. I wanted to marry her out of love. I wanted to have a story with her, one that I had control over.

It’s silly to me now, remembering how I once thought about love. I thought it was only achievable if it was the destiny you had chosen for yourself, not one that was given to you. I believed for so long that the kind of love I was after was one that had to be worked towards, not one that was just handed directly to you.

When I was five years old, my mother was expecting another child. Father was ecstatic, and so was I. Many of the servants’ children had siblings, and I had been envious of them for some time. I wanted to be an older sibling. I wanted to guide a younger sibling and show them the world.

Unfortunately for me, things would never be that way.

I don’t remember much between the time I found out and the time mother went into labor, other than spending hours upon hours helping them with the new baby’s nursery. They did most of the work, but I felt honored to help. I always tried to imagine what the room would look like with a crying or giggling baby brother or sister in it. These months were wasted.

When it was time for mother to have the baby, she spent hours in the medical wing. The baby was born sleeping. Mother fell asleep a week later.

I never saw my brother, but I was able to see my mother throughout the days of her illness. When I was a child, it was never explained why the baby wasn’t alive and why my mother was becoming iller with each passing day.

Father took me out of the room directly after she had passed with hardly a word. He kept his hand upon my shoulder as we walked together. As we walked to my bedroom, we passed by several servants who were weeping, and I didn’t quite understand then. In my eyes, that were now six years old, my mother had only fallen asleep. Death didn’t exist for me then, nor would it for several more years.

He helped me into my pajamas, silently lifting me into my bed. When father next looked into my eyes, I saw that he, like the servants, was crying too. I remember being taken aback by his image, having never before seen my father weep.

‘Father?’ I asked him. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Reasons you do not quite understand. I will explain when you’re older.’ He whispered while kissing my forehead. ‘I love you, Vladimir. It’s time for bed. Sweet dreams.’ Father began to stand, ready to leave me alone in the darkness.

‘I love you, too.’ With my blankets pulled up to my neck, I watched as my father dragged his feet towards my bedroom door. He slumped himself against my door as he blew out the candles, but not before a wave of sobs fell upon him. My door was shut soon after, and I could hear him running down the hallway by the sound of his heavy boots.

I didn’t understand why he ran or why he was suddenly sobbing. Despite my confusion, I fell asleep not knowing how my life was about to change. When I woke, I hurried down the hallway to greet my mother but found her bed empty and neat. It had been cleaned. All items that had involved her had vanished.

My questions went unanswered for many years. It wasn’t until I was twelve that my father finally told me the truth. He explained to me what stillborn had meant and what death was. He held me as I found out the truth about my mother. She hadn’t disappeared or fallen into a long eternal sleep. Mother had passed away.

I remember being conflicted. I was too young to understand that in his eyes, that had been the way to handle her death. I only saw it as a lie he had me believing for half of my life. Whenever I had asked him when mother would awake, he always shrugged and changed the subject. Looking back on it, it makes me wonder if he was still trying to come to terms with it. He couldn’t bring himself to tell me the truth before he understood and believed in it.

I vowed after that day to be truthful when the time came for myself to have children. I didn’t want them believing in a lie that would only break their heart later down the road. I know my father meant well, even if it wasn’t the right thing to do. I promised myself I would learn from his mistakes. My children wouldn’t be kept in the dark. No matter how hard or painful, I would tell them the truth.

I don’t think, even at the age of twelve, I ever thought it would come down to it. I never thought the truth would be so hard to admit. I understand my father’s choices now. If the promise hadn’t been made to myself, I would repeat his actions and do as he did.

My father was a proud man. He hardly ever sought help and was always looking for opportunities to do right for his people. He often got lost in his work as a Count, making sure all those in his land of Transylvania were taken care of. We spent time together often. He was a great father. Soon after my nineteenth birthday, however, my father grew weaker. His age was finally catching up with him as a man in his early fifties.

It was hard for several months as I watched my father practically fall apart before my eyes. His memory was starting to fail him, and his balance wasn’t nearly as good as it had once been. I took to standing beside him each day to ensure he was still at his best. My fear of losing another parent was strong despite how much I tried to fight it. I wasn’t ready to be alone.

‘Vladimir,’ he said to me one evening in his office, his wrinkled hand resting upon an envelope that bulged out from the contents within. I could see his name written on the front of it, leaving me to wonder why he hadn’t opened it yet. ‘My son, my time is coming to an end. I don’t know whether it’s soon or if it’s in several years. I’m becoming an old man that has lived his life to the fullest. This work is becoming harder each day. If it wasn’t for you, I’m not sure where I would be. It’s time for you to prepare to take over. Once I pass, you will become the next Count of the Dracula family.’

‘Father, that is a ridiculous statement. You are in your prime.’ It was a lie. I didn’t want to face the truth.

He must have seen the panic in my eyes. Instead of pressing the subject, he smiled. ‘I know you are afraid, my son. You will be without me for the first time in your life. I don’t plan on leaving you alone. It might be time you find yourself a wife so that you will have someone to lean upon when I pass on. Being a Count is no easy feat. After the position is yours, I’m afraid you won’t have the time to find a bride.’

I hated the idea as soon as it left his mouth. I wanted a wife, yes, more than anything. I wanted to have a relationship similar to how my parents were, but this felt wrong—rushing to find my bride because my father was dying? It hardly seemed like the right thing to do. Naturally, I refused.

‘I will find her when the time is right. I only have one chance to get it right,’ I assured him with a smile of my own that I prayed masked my frustration. ‘Let’s get on with the rest of our day, shall we?’

I wanted to find my wife when the time was right. I was only nineteen when the idea was brought to my attention. I felt too young to take on that kind of responsibility. Besides, I believed that falling in love took time. It wasn’t something that could happen overnight.

In a way, I suppose I rebelled against my father’s wishes. I spent my time in my study and helping him with his duties as Count. I learned a lot over the next year from him and my books, but I didn’t find a wife. I felt okay with the situation. It wasn’t my time yet. Or, so I thought.

The night of my twentieth birthday, a servant came to my room saying that my father had requested me to his quarters. Without hesitation, I closed my books and hurried to his room. The scene was painfully familiar to me.

Father lay in his bed, arms above resting atop his blankets. He had been slightly sick earlier in the week, but now it looked as though he had been ill his entire life. His skin held a yellow tint to it as did the whites of his sunken eyes. He coughed several times into a cloth that a servant quickly whisked away. It was odd to see him this way, as he had been fine in the morning, aside from some muscle pains and headache.

‘Father?’ I watched as the servant walked away, quietly approaching him at his bedside. I sat on the edge of his bed, glancing over into a nearby bucket that had some black and red liquid within it. I didn’t question what it was. I didn’t want to know. I wanted to disappear.

Father smiled as he took my hand, giving it a light squeeze. ‘My son, as much as I love you, you have upset me. You have disobeyed me.’

‘Disobeyed you?’ I raised an eyebrow as I stared down at my weakened father. ‘I don’t recall what I did.’

‘It’s what you didn’t do. I asked you to find a bride, and here you are a year later without so much as an interest in finding one.’

I fought the urge to break away. ‘Father, there is no need for me to find a wife right now. You need me. The time isn’t right. I’ll find her when it is time to meet her. It could be years before I find her.’

‘You could have met a nice girl from here and have married her already, Vladimir. Things could have been far different.’ He sighed, patting my hand. He jerked forward to grab a clean cloth that lay in front of him, quick to bring it to his mouth as he began to cough. He groaned after and leaned back into his bed. ‘I didn’t want it to come to this, my boy, but I can’t leave you alone. I grew up without parents. My mother passed from her age, and my father disappeared when I was young. When I was left alone, the world was miserable. I want something different for you.’

‘Come to what?’ I dared to ask. ‘Father, you aren’t going to die. You-’

He interrupted me. ‘I hope that one day, you may forgive me. I have made arrangements for you to be married.’

‘...What?’

‘King Henry of Invea has a daughter who is seventeen.’

‘Invea?!’ I gaped, standing suddenly from my father’s bed. Invea, as you all know, was Transylvania’s biggest threat. There were never any wars, but my father didn’t trust that there would never be.

‘I know,’ father sighed. ‘I believe it will be good for our people. I want to pass knowing that you will never have to ride into battle against them. They are bigger than we are. One war and Transylvania would fall. Judging from the letters I’ve sent to them and received, she seems like a wonderful young woman. I think you two will get along very well.’

‘You’re insane if you think I’m going to go through with this.’ I stood my ground, determined to make it known that it wasn’t going to happen.

His smile almost returned but faded before it had the chance to come back fully. ‘I was worried you might say that. Several guards and Franklin will accompany you. They are under strict instructions to bring you to Invea, even if it means against your will. You will marry the princess, Vladimir. You leave first thing in the morning and will be married within the week.’

‘Father, you can’t be serious!’ Opposite emotions began attacking me. I wanted to be outraged that I was being forced to marry a stranger and that I hadn’t a single choice in the decision, yet I felt fear of why my father was acting so quickly. I attempted not to notice all the symptoms he was showing, but even I couldn’t ignore what I was seeing. It had plagued our home of Transylvania months before and was finally disappearing now that winter had come. It seemed that yellow fever would grasp one more victim as it left.

Without much conversation left, we said our goodnights and I vanished back to my bedroom for the night.

I attempted to fight my fate in the morning, but the guards weren’t having it. I said goodbye to my father, and off they whisked me away to the carriage already waiting outside the mansion. We left the dark woods and heavy snow for Invea, a land I didn’t want to see.

Invea rested near the border of Hungary, leaving me only hours between our lands. I was thankful for that, at the very least, knowing that the trip could have been days in the carriage. I hadn’t ever been one for trips in the carriage. They had made me sick as a child. To fight any oncoming nausea, I leaned against the leather seats and settled my hands onto my lap while trying to imagine what I was walking into.

I tried to think of what this future bride of mine looked like, or what she sounded like. I was frustrated by how little details I knew of her. She was seventeen and a princess of Invea. I briefly wondered how I would escape this one, but no ideas came to mind. I couldn’t directly disobey my father like that. He had ordered me to Invea to marry the princess. What choice did I have?

The hours passed quicker than I had hoped. I had been praying for one of the wheels to break or for the weather to be too wicked to continue any further on; I would have taken an ambush at that point as well. To my dismay, we arrived in Invea during the early afternoon without any problems.

‘Sire?’ Franklin, one of our most trusted servants, spoke up. ‘We have arrived at the castle.’ He had sat in the carriage with me alongside two guards. He had been around since my father had first taken his Count position. He had practically raised me whenever my father had been busy with work. I saw him more as a mentor than a servant. He was ten years my elder but had knowledge to spare.

‘Already?’ I sighed, hesitantly opening my eyes to spare a glance out the window. Invea was different from Transylvania, though not in the ways I had imagined. I had imagined a land opposite from ours when it appeared almost the same. There were fewer trees and more bridges, but it was beautiful. None of it seemed real, not even the large castle we were stopped in front of. The sun in the sky was the most unfamiliar. With all the trees back home, the sun hardly ever managed to shine down upon us. ‘Franklin, do I have to? We both know I don’t want to do this.’

‘I am under strict instruction by your father, Vladimir.’ The professionalism faded from his voice as he offered a smile. ‘I know it’s not the best of situations, but perhaps good may come from this?’

‘Somehow, I doubt it.’ I opened the door of the carriage, stumbling out of it. My knees popped with the first few steps as they adjusted to not being so cramped any longer. A light amount of snow dusted the ground, covering the grass that surrounded the cream-colored castle. It was pretty, but the scenery was far more beautiful. With another sigh, I sunk my hands into the pockets of my second most excellent pair of pants. Father had insisted I dress as nicely as possible. The nicest pair would be for the wedding if it actually happened. My fingers played with the silver necklace I had placed in there when we had first left.

Father had gifted me the necklace moments before we left. It had a thin chain with a silver bat as the charm, showing off the symbol of our family. It would be for the princess as a welcoming gift in attempts to make her feel more comfortable. Another glance around outside had me fighting a chuckle. Would she ever feel comfortable in the hands of her enemy in a place she wouldn’t recognize that held more darkness in it than here? Wouldn’t she be scared?

As I followed Franklin and the guards into the castle, I briefly wondered if the princess would complain about the change. She would go from a glorious pastel castle to a black mansion that looked over the land we protected. Perhaps as soon as she saw her new home, she would insist to her father that she wanted to return and the marriage could be annulled.

I had never been inside a castle before, leaving me in awe of the decorations. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each holding hundreds of candles that dazzled through the entryway. The floor and the walls matched the cream color on the outside of the structure. A line of male servants stood before us, all bowing as I stepped in front of Franklin and the guards.

The servant in the middle stepped forward. ‘Are you Mr. Vladimir Dracula?’ I vaguely remember him, but he stood out enough to make an impression on my memory more so than the others did. His clothes were far cleaner than the other servants, and his blonde hair was tied tightly at the base of his neck. Dark eyes stared straight into mine.

I pulled my gaze away from the decor to look upon the servant. ‘I am.’

The man briefly nodded. ‘Come then. Milady will be ready soon.’ He turned on his heel and started to the right, heading straight towards a larger than normal door decorated in sparkling jewels. If one thing was for sure, it was that Invea liked to flaunt their wealth. When the servant pushed open the doors, a painfully bright room was revealed to us.

Myself, Franklin, and the guards walked inside. It matched the first room we had seen; only this one had statues and sculptures along the walls. A large window was on the wall opposite us. To the right was a grand staircase with a pair of doors at the top of the velvet stairs. I approached the window, impressed to find that it had a splendid view of Invea.

‘Wait here. Milady will come when she is ready.’ His eyes lingered upon me. ‘Many of us don’t approve of what King Henry is doing or who he is marrying his daughter to.’ I watched in confusion as he looked me over, holding back a scoff. ‘The only good that will come out of this is it will finally free her.’

‘Excuse me?’ I wasn’t used to being disrespected by a servant. While I wanted to argue back, Franklin’s heavy stare in the back of my head told me otherwise. This wasn’t our land. We needed to be careful.

The servant stuck his nose in the hair and walked up the stairs, stopping beside the door. He stepped into a frozen stance, eyes glued straight in front of him while we all waited for the princess to arrive.

I watched him leave, unsure as to why he had gone after me. I could only assume it was simply because we were all enemies with each other. Time would change things. My hands found themselves back into my pockets as I brought my gaze to the window once more. It was the one distraction I had from the current situation. Within the hour, I would meet my future bride. Whether we liked each other or not, we would be wed in the week. I hoped she and I were slightly similar. Maybe if she and I liked the same things, or at least could put up with each other, that we could become friends. How miserable would it be to be married to someone you hated.

I ignored the anger I had felt all night and morning. I had always wanted to marry for love, and this didn’t feel like it. My lifelong plan had come to an end, and it wasn’t because I succeeded. Father had forced my hand because he was worried about me being alone. I could handle it when the time would come, but it wasn’t anytime soon. I didn’t understand his concern then as I do now.

I heard the doors above the stairs creak upon and the shuffle of skirts following. I forced myself to keep my eyes upon the window as my heart started to race from nerves. This was it. This was the moment that would change my life for better or for worse. I thought of my father and how upset with him I was. This wasn’t the life I wanted.

‘Sire.’ Franklin whispered, already facing the direction of the stairs. ‘Your bride is here.’

I held my breath. Despite my hatred for Invea and this plan my father had come up with, she didn’t deserve to be the brunt of my anger. I needed to be civil. I represented Transylvania. I kept my eyes upon the floor as I turned, unsure if I was willing to face the truth just yet. I didn’t feel ready.

‘Don’t be rude. She’s watching you,’ Franklin whispered into my ear before stepping away, letting me have the moment on my own.

With hesitation coursing through my veins, I began to raise my eyes to look upon her; upon my future wife.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I finally saw her. My heart stopped, and I momentarily forgot how to breathe once I saw her smiling down at me.

For the first time, and hardly the last time, in my life, I was left utterly speechless.”