Stone Roses, Blood Red
And in the sudden silence
Between the clash of swords
I realized the blood was as red
As the rose the one I love
Had given to me.
The rose was a deep, dark crimson red. As rich as if the paint itself were actual blood, shed just for the purpose of delighting her. Willa stared in awe at the canvas. She reached out a hand, her fingers wanting to touch the painting. The black background looked as soft as velvet, the rose so real she could stroke its petals. A sharp reproving smack on the back of her hand snapped her back to reality, as the old man who was presenting the artwork to her scowled. Of course, she couldn’t touch it.
“Who painted this?” Willa’s voice broke the silence, ringing out as clear as a silver bell in the stagnant air. It didn’t seem to be the work of Prince Seamoore, who often delivered to her gifts of art that he himself had made. But all of the paintings he ever made were of her. This one was different. It was darker, and of a rose, something she loved but hadn’t seen in so long. She actually enjoyed this one, unlike the others.
“It’s from a Count Utason of the nation of Clarienia. As a gift to you, Princess.”
“The nation of Clarienia? I’ve never heard of it…”
“It’s a failing nation, half of it’s subjects are imprisoned, and many more were killed off years before you were born. The rest rely on feudalism to survive. It’s not the wealthiest land.” The old man fell silent, as if he were badmouthing the country and the Count would come to reprimand him at any moment.
“And it’s…to me?” Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t even know this Count. “I must thank him.” She held her head up high and turned on her heel, nodding to her scribe, who was instantly at the ready.
“But there’s no need to write, as you can thank him personally.”
Willa jumped a bit at this new voice. It was deeper than any of her servants, and sounded younger as well. She glanced over her shoulder, only to see the owner of this voice leaning against the doorframe. A smirk was set on his face as he straightened himself and walked over to her.
“Princess Wilhelmina, it’s a pleasure to see your beauty in person.” He extended his hand as he approached her. Willa found herself looking up, as he was about a head taller than her. She was also blushing at his compliment, despite getting a large quantity of them a day. Coming from him made it seem all the more special. From the second she laid eyes on him, she was taken. A very handsome man, he had longish brown hair, falling to his shoulders, and dark eyes…she couldn’t quite make out their color and she knew she was staring….
“Count Utason,” she managed to say.
“No need to be so formal. You can call me Rafe, Princess,” he flashed a roguish smile, and Willa’s face reddened a few more degrees.
“Then you can call me Willa,” she hesitated for a second, and then continued. “I’m very grateful for your gift. I love the painting. It’s so stunning…”
“I had hoped you’d like it. The roses that grow in my homeland are even more radiant then that. I had only captured a fraction of its beauty. I hope one day I can show you my own gardens.”
“Really?” Willa’s gray eyes widened in excitement. “You have roses at your castle?”
“Yes,” he nodded, smiling once again. “And you’ll see them soon enough, I expect.”
“I will?” She tilted her head to the side, a bit puzzled. He must have seen her confusion, because he continued.
“Why, of course, Princess, I am your fiancé after all.”
“Fiancé?!” Dhalis Seamoore, the Prince of Ceresiania, rushed into the throne room. His face was flushed, his breathing heavy, and his usually perfect blonde hair was mussed and out of place. He stormed up to the King and Queen, looking defiant. “She has a fiancé?!”
“He arrived this morning, I’m afraid.” King Antonias sighed heavily, diverting his eyes from the young man’s face. “I had thought him dead, and completely forgot about his existence. I promised Willa to him when she was young…”
“We’re sorry, Dhalis,” Queen Sereh added, sounding sincere. “He’s the Count of Clarienia.”
“Clarienia?” Dhalis spat, his blue eyes narrowing. “That pathetic excuse of a nation? It should be conquered and divided up, why, it’s inhabitants were-“
“All locked away, yes, Prince Seamoore,” the Queen interrupted sternly. “You were just an infant then. Do you know why, though?”
“Well…” Dhalis hesitated. He could feel the Queen’s fierce green eyes bearing down on him.
“Vampires!” The King suddenly jumped up. “Filthy, blood-sucking creatures and their brethren! Those were the inhabitants of Clarienia!” He snarled, stroking his full black beard in an effort to remain calm. “But Count Utason is willing to turn the nation around…him and Willa…”
“I thought those were just myths. So there really were vampires…” Dhalis mumbled.
“Yes, dear,” the Queens eyes were still on him, but softer this time. Dhalis looked up at her, a bit startled to see she looked sad. She seemed extremely aged at the moment, even older than usual, and the gray in her brown hair seemed more dominant than before. Dhalis knew the Queen was a kind woman, but she often overly-worried about her daughter, and at times it even made her sick. “But most of the myths are exactly that. Myths. The people of the land were never bad, or evil…in fact…”
“Sereh, stop,” the King was glaring down at her. “Of course such creatures were evil. What else could they be due to their nature?”
“I suppose, Antonias…” The Queen sighed heavily, and reclined back into her throne.
“Now, Prince Seamoore, I’m sorry that I never mentioned Princess Wilhelmina’s fiancé before. I am sorry I allowed you to court her when ultimately she would marry another. I know you’ve gotten close to her…”
“Ha!” Dhalis laughed out loud. “She’s been as cold as the stone of the gardens to me. She was never interested in having me as a husband. I suppose she’ll be the same way to this new Count as well.”
“Perhaps. But if anything happens…anything unfortunate to the Count, per se, to end this engagement, you will be notified at once to wed my daughter,” the King caught Dhalis’ eye and gave him a meaningful look.
“Of course, Your Highness,” the young prince bowed low, then straightened. “If anything is to happen.” He then marched out of the throne room, his head held higher than when he entered, a new light in his eyes.
The gardens of Treliania Castle were dark and gloomy, as usual. The sky was dark and overcast, not allowing the sun to penetrate beneath the thick clouds. Willa was the brightest object around, with her flowing white dress shining against the gray, her pale skin radiant, and her golden blonde hair shining in the little light. She was luminous, while Count Rafe beside her seemed to blend in perfectly. His black velvet cloak pulled tight around him, as they stood still in the garden’s center he could have been just another statue. Willa, on the other hand, was moving about, and picked up a rose.
“See,” she brought it over to Rafe, holding it up. “These are the roses we have here. They are nothing like the one you painted.” Indeed it wasn’t like any rose the Count had ever seen. It was made of stone, as recurrently gray as the sky and the land around them . But every detail was there. The petals were delicate, the veins in them visible, as well as in the leaves. The flower even had stone thorns. Rafe took it from her, looking it over.
“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly. “In it’s own right, of course.”
“But it doesn’t compare to your painting,” Willa said. “None of my garden is real. Nothing has been growing here lately, so the court made this for me…” She gestured to the rows of stone rose bushes, hedges, and other blossoms. Each one perfect, each one hand-made.
“This place still appeals to me,” Rafe twirled the rose between his fingers as his eyes scanned the grounds.
“You really like it?” Willa asked hopefully.
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m so glad…I’ve never had anyone to keep me company out here that actually enjoyed it…” Willa said, lowering her eyes to stare at her feet. Rafe stepped up to her, cupping her chin in with his hand, and then tipped her face upward.
“I’ll keep you company anytime you like…here, or anywhere in the castle.”
“Oh…” Willa’s cheeks reddened, and she tore her eyes from his.
“No need to be embarrassed, Princess…” Rafe said, lowering his voice to a near whisper, and leaned down closer to her, his lips parted.
A sudden growl from the other end of the garden ended the moment.
“Onza!” Rafe barked, jerking away from Willa, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword on instinct. A large black cat was crouching behind a stone hedge. Without warning, it sprang, galloping towards them. Willa screamed, and Rafe jumped in front of her, then rushed towards the animal. The feline let out a roar, and then vanished in a puff of smoke.
“Is it gone?” Willa asked in a breathless whisper.
“Shh…” Rafe replied, drawing his blade from its scabbard and holding it at the ready. His eyes were alert, but his body stood stock-still. Willa watched as he turned slightly, then raised the sword. At that precise moment, the cat reappeared and lunged for Rafe. He swung his sword down hard, and caught it in the neck. The beast screamed and recoiled, and Rafe sliced at it again, severing it’s head this time. The garden was silent as blood spread over the cobblestone, the red contrasting greatly.
“What….what was…what was…”
“Onza. A cat native to my homeland,” Rafe said, sheathing his sword.
“Then what’s it doing here?” Willa rushed over to him, checking to see if he were ok.
“They’re popularly used for assassinations,” Rafe replied monotonously, turning to face Willa.
“What?”
“Someone’s trying to kill me.”
“Why would someone want to kill you?” The two had retreated to the castle’s library, Rafe having wanted to talk somewhere in private.
“I have many enemies, of course, but I didn’t know of any here…” His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he ran a hand over his chin in thought.
“What if they were trying to kill me?”
“I highly doubt that. It happened the day I showed up. I doubt it’s coincidence…” Rafe sighed. “Do you have anyone you’ve been courting?”
“What? Only Dhalis…well, he’s been trying…I don’t like him much…” Willa folded her hands in her lap. “What does that have to do…”
“I’m your fiancé. If this Dhalis intends to marry you, he may go to any extremes to do so. What is his rank?”
“Prince. Of Ceresiania.”
“Ah, the neighboring land. Then he has right reason…he’ll be king of both nations one day if he marries you.”
“But Dhalis isn’t that kind of person…” Willa said, nodding to a servant who had just walked in holding a tea tray.
“Tea, milady?” The old woman said, offering the platter. “And you, milord?”
“Why thank you,” Willa reached for a cup, but Rafe grabbed her hand.
“Don’t.”
“What’s wrong? I’m thirsty, Rafe…”
“Don’t drink it,” He whispered this to her, then turned to the servant, smiling. “Would you taste our tea first, please?”
“Of course Count Utason,” the servant smiled back, and set the platter down on a small table. She picked up the cup and lifted it to her lips. She took a small sip, and instantly burst into flames.
“By God!” Willa gasped.
“As I expected. Poison. Pyropoison, to be exact. Causes the drinker to…well, do that…” Rafe stood from his seat, his face sad. “Another attempt on my life. I’m sorry about your servant, Princess.”
“Oh…” Willa leaned further back in the armchair in which she was sitting, obviously shaken. “At least it wasn’t you…”
“I’ll call for someone…” He said and quickly left the room, leaving Willa alone with the smoldering corpse and her thoughts.
The poisoning of the old maid was the gossip of the castle for several weeks. During this time there were no more attacks or attempts to kill Rafe, so he and Willa relaxed a little and got to know each other better. They spent long hours in the garden, talking.
Willa was surprised to find out how much she had in common with Rafe. They had enjoyed doing similar things in their childhood, such as horseback riding and archery. Rafe was an accomplished warrior, and had fought in several battles a few years back in the unclaimed lands of Sukkobia. They both loved some of the darker things in life, and they both loved roses.
Willa was fascinated by Rafe’s nature. He wasn’t anything like any other royalty or court members she had ever met. He didn’t follow the unspoken rules, he was more of a rebel than Prince Seamoore…Willa found herself slowly starting to care for the man who was her fiancé as they spent more time together
Rafe told her of the history of his land. He told her of all the creatures that inhabited it, including the Vampires. She was enraptured.
A dinner was to be held about six weeks after Rafe’s arrival. Willa was to sit at the head of the table opposite the King, as the Queen was sick.
Rafe stood outside Willa’s room, waiting for her to finish preparing, when he heard nearby footsteps. A second later a man appeared. He quickly walked by, glaring at Rafe, and then was gone.
“That was Dhalis.”
Rafe nodded, leaning against the wall. “I could have guessed as much…” He muttered. He turned his head to the side, and his eyes landed on her. “Willa…” He said, standing up straight. “You look even more beautiful than usual…radiant…that dress is wonderful.”
“Thank you, Rafe,” she said, giving him a smile. The dress was black with off the shoulder straps and a V-neck, clinging to her just right so that it was still ever-so-elegant. The material was velvet, and a small train fell behind her.
“And as a gift…” Rafe held out his hand, and in between two long fingers he twirled a stone rose from the garden.
“Thank you Ra-” Willa had reached out to take it, but as she did so, the rose started to glow. It shone as if with an inner light, and then, bit-by-bit, every inch of the flower came to life. The petals grew soft and became a deep red. The brittle stone leaves became real, and Willa’s sharp intake of breath was in awe.
“A beautiful rose for a beautiful woman…” Rafe said gently, his eyes watching her intently.
“Thank you Rafe…but how did you…?”
“Well, Princess, shall we?” Rafe interrupted, holding his head high and extending his arm.
“Yes, let’s,” Willa took his arm, letting the question drop, and they headed off together towards the dining room as Dhalis watched from down the hall.
Upon reaching the dining room, both were surprised to find it vacant except for the King. He was seated at the head of the table in his throne, but the table was not set at all.
“Father, what’s going on?” Willa said, pulling away from Rafe and taking tentative steps forward.
“I’m sorry Wilhelmina, but you will not be marrying Count Utason,” King Antonias stated in a monotone voice, not even looking at his daughter.
“What?!” Rafe demanded, stepping forward.
“You will marry another, Willa. Someone more…suited…to your needs.” The King’s usually kind eyes were cold, and they focused on something behind Willa and Rafe.
“But Father, I want to marry Rafe…I…” Willa pleaded, but then turned towards Rafe. “I …care for him….” Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise for a second, but then a warm smile spread across his face, and he draped an arm around Willa’s shoulder, pulling her to him in an embrace.
“But I care for power. And that is the most important thing in royal marriage. Not love,” a sneering voice from behind announced the arrival of Dhalis, sword in hand.
“Prince Dhalis, what are you doing?!” Willa gasped, drawing closer to Rafe.
“I knew it would come to this…” Rafe said stoically, his eyes narrowing.
“It has come to this…” The King repeated, standing from his throne. “I will not stand in the way. Whoever lives shall have my daughter’s hand.”
“FATHER!! NO!!” Willa screamed, starting to run towards him.
“Go to your mother Willa…” Rafe grabbed her arm and pulled her close again. “Go to her…and you’ll learn everything…” He then let go of her, drew his sword from its sheath, and stepped up to Dhalis.
“RAFE!!! ”
“Go, Willa!” He yelled back as Dhalis also raced forward. With a furtive look over her shoulder, Willa fled from the room to visit her mother.
Willa slowly eased the heavy wooden door to her mother’s chambers open, peeking in.
“Mother?” She called when she spotted her on her bed, a nurse at her side.
“Willa…” The Queen said weakly, waving a thin hand to send the servant away. Willa pushed the door the rest of the way open and strolled into the room as the nurse left. The thud of the door closing proclaimed mother and daughter alone. Willa sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her mother’s hand in hers.
“Rafe said I should come up here…he’s fighting with Dhalis in the dining room…” Willa’s voice was shaky and her eyes watered as she spoke.
“There, there dear, I knew it would come…” Her mother said gently, then let out a rough cough. Willa helped her sit up straight. “Willa, I have something to tell you…”
“What is it, Mother?”
“I have the truth to tell you…about yourself… your past…your engagement…and about how you’re a Vampire, just like Rafe…”
Rafe’s sword clashed against Dhalis’, the sound echoing against the stone walls of the dining room.
“I know what you are, Count Utason,” Dhalis sneered, swinging his sword low.
“Do you?” Rafe grunted as he parried.
“Oh yes, you’re one of the Vampire’s from your filthy land…no better than the one’s rotting away in the prison towers!”
“Well,” Rafe stepped back, breathing heavy but smirking, showing off his fangs. “Now that the secrets out…” He grinned even wider, his eyes glowing a deep red, then burning brighter.
“Wha...” Dhalis stepped back, lowering his sword to his side in shock.
“There’s no holding back!” Rafe roared as he charged Dhalis, sword held high.
Willa sat in stunned silence. Her mother had just recounted a different version of her life story than the one she thought she knew. The Queen was sleeping peacefully, soft breaths escaping her parted lips. Willa stared at her mother’s taunt face, now knowing why she was so sickly. Standing, she walked over to the window overlooking the castle’s stone gardens.
I’m a Vampire. She thought, her gray eyes hewn on the fountain. I was adopted. My parents were given me when I was young…I’m a savior for the Vampire nation of Clarienia. I was engaged to a Count, to be his Countess…and together when the time was right we could free the land from what was a curse. It is legend. I am part of that legend. The rest of the nation’s people…no, my people…are imprisoned awaiting that day…and my Mother…my Mother was so sick her whole life because she was anemic…giving small amounts of blood to mix in with my food and drink to sustain me…Willa tore her eyes away from the fountain, fixing them instead on the dark clouds overhead. I would be fully mature at 18 years of age…and that’s why the garden’s stopped growing…because I was whole but only ‘half’…Mother said as the Vampire Countess nothing would be perfect until I was united with the Vampire Count. That Count is Rafe. We’re the promised ones to free the land, to bring back the good times to the Vampire people. To lift the curse…which was cast by the Seamoore family…and to lift the curse fully the last Seamoore Prince must be killed…
Willa turned away from the window and walked with her head held high over to her mother’s vanity. She picked up a few hairpins, ones in the shape of roses, and swept her wavy hair up. Looking over her dress and smoothing it over with her hands, she walked over to the door. Beside it was a decorative sword, roses engraved in the steel blade. Willa lifted it from its holder and left the room quickly. As she walked down the hallway, she ran into the King.
“Father,” she said harshly, angry that he had kept the secret from her and was allowing for the chance of fate to be altered.
“Willa…” He stopped, his voice soft. His eyes met hers, and then traveled to the sword in her hand, but he didn’t say anything more. After a moment of silence, he nodded slowly, then walked on past her. Willa turned to watch him go, and then continued down to the dining room.
Dhalis was pinned against the floor, Rafe’s sword an inch from his throat when Willa walked in. Rafe stood victorious over him, a maniacal smile spread across his face.
“Willa!” Dhalis cried, his voice squeaking when he saw her. “Willa, help me!”
“Why should she help you?” Rafe sneered, pressing the sword nearer. Its edge pricked the soft skin of his neck and Dhalis let out a whimper.
“Because I love her!” Dhalis whispered now, but then screamed. “Willa, I love you, don’t let him kill me, by God don’t let him kill me…!”
Willa didn’t say a word, but instead walked over to stand beside Rafe. Holding up her own sword, she lowered it to where it was right beside the Count’s. Dhalis’ eyes grew even wider.
“Willa please…don’t do this…you know I care about you…”
“Don’t lie to her, fool,” Rafe said coldly, jerking his sword up and slashing it’s end across his forehead causing a crimson line to appear.
“Prince Dhalis Seamoore…last of the Seamoore Royal line…the Count and Countess aim to lift the curse your family placed on our people oh so many years ago…” Willa said haughtily, her voice holding no sympathy, but her eyes were troubled.
“Wha…what?! Our people…oh God, you’re one too…one of the Vampire’s my family cursed to free the world of that occult evil!” Dhalis was sweating now, and he tried to scramble away. Rafe’s boot in the middle of his chest caused him to come to a stop.
“So you know everything?” He said to Willa without turning.
“Yes. Mother told me.”
“And are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Willa…before you kill me…remember…” Dhalis’ voice grew steadier now, as if he was regaining his bravery. “Even if it truly was the power I sought…I could have learned to love you.”
“And I already have,” Rafe said, as he and Willa thrust their swords downward.
Crimson poured over the floor. Rafe stepped away from the body and over to the table, gathering two chalices engraved with pentacles. He handed one to Willa.
“To complete the release of the curse…the blood of the enemy must be consumed.”
They both held the cups to the gaping wound, the blood filling them like wine. Then, entwining their arms like a pagan bride and groom, they brought the chalices to their lips.
The birds chirped as they flew overhead in the azure sky, and the sun shone its golden rays down on the colorful assortment of plants and blossoms growing in the garden. Willa, dressed in a crushed velvet white gown adorned with ribbon and lace, was seated on the edge of the fountain, dangling a dainty hand in the water. Koi fish nibbled at her fingertips before swimming away in a swirl of fin. She giggled happily, only to hear her laughter echoed. Looking up, she saw Rafe drawing nearer. His hair was pulled back, and he was wearing a white billowy tunic shirt, the top strings pulled loose, and leather pants, his ever-faithful sword still in the scabbard at his side. He smiled at her as she stood, and took her hands in his.
“I’ve never been so happy in all my life…” She told him in an awed voice. “Look at my garden, it’s alive! The roses are in bloom, so beautiful, and oh so real…”
“Nothing a bit of magick couldn’t do,” Rafe winked, walking her down a cobblestone pathway.
“When are we leaving for our homeland?” Willa asked curiously, staring up into Rafe’s red eyes.
“As soon as you’re ready. I’m so proud of you, for you’ve been so brave. You didn’t hesitate once in doing what we had to do…no matter how brutal. As a gift, I’d like to paint your gardens before we leave…and I’d love to get married here…”
“You’re already planning the wedding, I see?” Willa smiled, hitting him on the arm playfully.
“The sooner the better…we will be home to free our people…and I’ll have you forever as my wife!” He stopped walking, and turned towards a statue between two rosebushes. It was of a woman wearing a veil…and as Rafe reached towards it the veil became real. He lifted it from the statues head, and turned back to Willa, placing it on hers.
“What’s this…?”
“Turn around.”
Willa did so, and gasped in surprise. A miniature chapel was set up at the edge of the garden, on the cliff overlooking the sea. A priest was already standing at the alter, the King and Queen were seated in thrones, and hundreds of people were present as guests. The whole nation of Treliania seemed to be in attendance.
“Rafe…when…?”
“I arranged it all this morning,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “So, will you be my Countess of Legend, Princess Wilhelmina?” He leaned down and kissed her lips softly.
“Yes…” Willa said breathlessly, her head spinning. The recent events still buzzing in her mind, she took Rafe’s arm and walked with him towards the alter. Halfway down he stopped, turning to a rosebush, and picking a particularly beautiful flower. Handing it to her, they continued.
The reason of the Royal Vampire’s engagement was to free their people, but the reason for their wedding was their eternal love, which just like the stone roses, would never fade.