Mel sat in the low eaves of the bedroom chamber, brushing her hair gently with a marble comb. She sat on the cold hard stone of the royal chair, with a mirror that Vladimir had ordered for her in front of her, its edges gilded with silver. She yawned droopily into the mirror.
"Good morning," Vlad's soft, smooth voice entered the room as he approached Mel's side. "Did you sleep well?"
"Of course, you were there, weren't you?" Mel smiled laughingly. She lifted a pale, round hand to smooth down the sides of her mahogany tresses, and Vlad stared at her, lost for a second in her vision, her image. Yes, he was there, it was last night, the most beautiful night; he would remember it forever. How they had lain in each others' arms after the pleasure from their activities washed over them, the night ebbing over his consciousness, but him wanting to keep it away forever. Vlad felt a constriction in his throat, but he knew the time had finally come to ask her the question.
"Well, three days feels like the blink of an eye, doesn't it." He wondered to himself. "Your choice is made, I assume, by this point? Just let me know, Mel dearest, whatever it may be." He averted his eyes, the pain making him cringe in fear of the words that would escape her lips next. The room was silent for a second.
"Yes," Melanie's voice was like a feather, but hit Vlad like a brick. Yes? Yes, she was leaving? Or yes, she had decided she wouldn't leave?
"Whatever pleases you, my love," Vlad's voice tightened on the last word, but he meant it so that it couldn't help but choke through his coolly-controlled demeanor.
"Oh, Vlad, I'm sorry." Mel turned away from him, her head down in front of the mirror, and her figure bent in apology. She couldn't look at him. "I'm so sorry. But I really can't stay anymore." The past three days, after Mel had escaped Vyeila's clutches, Vlad had had to take precautions every minute, every hour. She was transported to the Duke's residence in the Northern wing of the palace, where even Vyeila wouldn't dare intrude, as he was the royal guest of honor. Then, when dusk fell, Vladimir would bring Melanie back to his room, where she'd sleep. Yet, as usual, to Mel's frustration and Vlad's superior self-control, nothing had occurred for Mel of the nature of that most intimate act that Vlad would never let her undertake, at least not with a vampire prince. Vyeila had been furious, and Vlad's days were spent between two activities, keeping the royal court from suspecting him of being with Melanie and keeping himself from confronting Vyeila for the time she'd kept Mel locked up in the potions room.
However, Melanie had seen the worry wear Vladimir down. He couldn't sleep well, for fear someone would burst into their chambers, and besides spending nights watching over Melanie, he spent the day conducting all methods of plans to keep her presence a hidden secret, safe from discovery. If this was to be the remainder of their days, then wouldn't it be better for Vlad too if Mel left? Mel had debated the matter endlessly in her brain, but upon hearing Vlad speak with Lorenze the third night, their voices hushed outside the chamber doors, she'd caught whiff of "safety" and "fight" and "risk it all." Vlad alone, Vlad against an army of vampires? No thanks. Mel finally decided she'd leave. With him standing so close to her right now, his sculpted figure casting a shadow on the floor, she was able to fight the lump rising in her throat. But once he had returned her to "her lands," what would happen then?
Mel fought back the thoughts, and taking one deep breath before wiping away the tear smudges, she turned back to Vlad. "I"m too afraid." Mel looked straight at Vlad's navy blue eyes, not wanting him to think any part of her leaving had to do with his own troubles, for he'd deny them as soon as he felt any hint, he'd sacrifice any part of his own physical and mental health for her.
Vlad nodded. His eyes seemed to gradually dim in the moonlight, and his head turned slightly to the side, away from Mel's face. "I understand." His voice was barely a whisper. Vlad didn't want Mel to see any part of the ensuing chaos that now raged within him, so he strode over to the window, the moonbeams illuminating his tall, lean form. There was no sound, only the chilly rustle of the curtains as a midnight breeze blew into the chamber.
"I love you," Mel said inaudibly, only her lips moving, needing to form the words. She lifted her fingers to her lips, and gently blew a kiss towards Vlad's stoic back, his unaware figure. The imaginary move was such a pale shade of the warm caresses and burning kisses they'd shared in the dark of the night. It was almost as if such displays of love were a last salute to what could have been, what had consumed the hearts of both, until they decided the other was too good to suffer, too good to not be free. Thus, it was an act of self sacrifice to leave but a painful act nonetheless. They stayed, her sitting, him standing, until the first light of dawn broke, and it was time, finally, for the separation.
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Vlad seated Melanie into the coach, Duke Lorenze on her right. He'd trusted his good friend with the journey, as flying was too dangerous with possible interception by Vyeila's minions likely along the way. The Duke's royal chariot would be safe from robbery or intrusion, and it would also be least suspicious to have Vlad participating in festivities at the palace while Mel left for safety.
"Bye, Vladimir," Melanie said in an even tone. "Take care of yourself. Be good." She forced a smile, wanting him to think her the most selfish creature on Earth. "I'll take care of myself too." She waved him off, as he backed away from the carriage, his lips unable to move, and his face frozen in the same expression it had been in after she'd made her decision. His figure, though tall and strong, seemed suddenly fragile in the morning wind, and his silver-blonde hair, blown wildly about by the buffeting chill, reminded Mel oddly of falling rye, a ripe harvest that was withered by the cold winter wind.
As the coach drove away, and Mel looked back out of the carriage, she saw Vladimir standing in the same spot, his feet frozen, and his face tired and defeated. He still didn't wave, or say a word, but his eyes were no longer looking at her or the cart, but rather seemed to gaze at a lost world beyond her view, until he disappeared into a tiny dot in the distance.
"Here, Melanie, take these gloves, it's dreadfully chilly," Duke Lorenze mustered up some cheer, and handed Mel a pair of soft, warm gloves. "We'll be there soon. I'll let you know once we've crossed the border, and you won't have to worry so much."
Mel smiled. If only she still had any strength left in her heart to worry for herself. No matter how she tried to focus on the snowy scenery outside the carriage window, her mind kept drawing back to one figure, framed by deadened trees and icy snow all around him, his wild platinum hair blowing about his ears, shielding his saddened, heartbroken face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vladimir stormed through the dark gates in the night. His cloak whipped behind him as he left the palace grounds, charging into the forest, wild and untamed, that bordered the royal palace. His eyes were blinded by the stinging cold wind that tossed his mane back and forth, but he didn't care. All he wanted, needed right now was to give himself over to the cold, to numb himself by racing across the snow, his vampiric nature taking over his senses. He crashed into the trees, at high speed, as he flew up into the air, the shrieking sounds of a thousand needles grating against the night sky.
