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You knew it was going to come to this; there was no other way it could have happened. Tonight at dinner you would do it. You would make it happen.
It would be simple.
You would make it easy to get close to you. Tonight you would be the perfect coquette. Exactly what he wanted.
A knock at the door announced the servants, and you braced yourself to be manhandled and dressed by those who only cared for their master. Resentment shone in their eyes as they would roughly brush your hair, paint your face, and dress you for the evening. It made your skin crawl to have so many hands on your body. No amount of bathing ever made the feeling of violation go away.
The servants left, and you quickly glanced at yourself in the silver plated mirror and sighed. You were beautiful and radiant, and nothing but a dressed up doll. A scowl marred the face in the mirror, and, for a second, you thought about ruining everything and showing up to dinner in nothing but your undergarments.
You snorted, turning from the mirror. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be a source of entertainment anymore.
Walking down the cold hall of the castle always gave you chills. It was nothing like the small, warm farmhouse your family had lived in. You clicked your heel hard on the floor, not allowing yourself to think of what once was. Not yet.
As you neared the dining room, the weight of the stake, sharpened from a broken post on your bed and tucked neatly into the folds of your skirt, became heavier and heavier.
You could not fail.
Finally you reached the double doors where two guards stood at attention, waiting for your arrival. You gave yourself one last second of anxiety before stepping forward into the role of the perfect lady.
The groan of the doors sounded like a warning, moans from those who had not escaped the castle telling you to run while you still could. You stepped into the dinning hall illuminated by a crystal chandelier hanging high on the vaulted ceiling. The table before you had a variety of food laid out upon it, more food than could be consumed by two people. Still your mouth watered on its own accord as you stared at the steaming turkey at the center and at the different pastries which looked almost sculpted.
Tearing your eyes away from the table, you noticed that your host had not arrived yet, and you tried not to let your disappointment show. The servants stood poised around the table and one behind a chair pulled it out, waiting for you to be seated.
Putting on the air of an empress, you glided to your seat and let yourself be seated. You kept your chin high and your hands folded, waiting as polite society dictated for your host to arrive and announce the start to dinner.
Minutes ticked by slowly and the silence heightened the anxiety you had so carefully tried to hide. In polite society, a host would never leave their guest to wait while hot food sat out, but this was not polite society and if your host decided to make you suffer, you would.
You startled as a side door was swung open and your host sauntered through. You had promised yourself to not let yourself be taken by the man who had held you captive every day. Still, at his entrance your cheeks flushed and a flutter ran through your stomach.
“Ah, my dear (y/n), radiant as ever.” His voice was low, but it floated through the air and sent chills down your body as it caressed your ear.
You held his gaze with a neutral expression, allowing him to glance you over as he strode toward his seat.
“Good evening, Master Aizawa, always a pleasure.” You managed it with an equally neutral tone, and tried not to let the annoyance of being kept waiting seep into your voice.
Aizawa’s eyebrow quirked as he took his seat at the head of the table. A servant skittered to his side to pour the master's wine. “I do apologize for my tardiness. I was rather engaged in a riveting conversation with the city's governor. Apparently there's been a string of murders and he was asking for my help in investigating them. Quite a mess really, no one can make heads or tails of it.”
Your expression remained neutral as you answered, “Well of course a count such as yourself would be a great resource in such matters. I'm sure the governor would love to have the culprit caught rather quickly so as to avoid any bad publicity.”
Wine had finally been poured into your goblet, and you gracefully reached for it, looking demurely at your host who held a look of smug curiosity on his face.
“Hm," was all he said as he too partook in his own cup of wine.
You watched his neck as he gulped down the liquid and your pulse quickened just for a second before you stamped it down.
“Well,” he said, letting his goblet clang against the table, “We’ve waited long enough I think, let us eat.”
With a click of his fingers, the servants began portioning and serving food to the two of you, and you watched disgustedly as they cut tiny portions for you. How dare they assume what food you could and could not have. There was so much food here, and it was wasteful to not allow a guest to eat their fill.
“Something wrong, sweet (y/n)?” Aizawa cooed, taking a bite of roasted potatoes.
The smile that came to your face was instantaneous, too quick to be real and you both knew it, still it went unmentioned.
“Not at all, Master Aizawa. I am simply excited for the meal, as I have not partaken in food today," you pouted.
The sound of your own voice sounding so pathetic made you cringe and want to crawl out of your own skin, but it was key to your plan and so you suffered through it. Aizawa simply quirked his eyebrow in a show of surprise as the servants brought out the first course.
The two of you ate in silence for a time as the courses changed in front of you. Your stomach was not in the mood for rebellion. You hadn’t been lying when you said you hadn’t eaten that day, and you consumed everything put in front of you.
As the servants cleared the last course, Aizawa's voice jilted you from your quiet introspection. “Well, as this evening is going so well, I thought you might indulge me in a walk through the gardens.”
A servant came to pull back his chair as he stood and offered his arm to you. The smile that showed on your face was genuine, but not for the want of a cool refreshing walk, no. This would be the perfect opportunity for you to end your captivity here once and for all.
You glided next to Aizawa as he led you outside to the immaculately kept gardens lit dimly by the lanterns placed artfully throughout the path. In any other situation, the energy of the walk may have felt romantic and calming, but your senses were too heightened from the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
As you walked, each footstep, each rustle of the leaves, set you more and more on edge. The wooden stake became rougher against your sweating palms. Your heart was beating so fast, you were positive Aizawa knew something was going on. You just hoped he would chalk it up to excitement at being with him.
“You seem anxious, my dear. Something troubling you?” he asked, not looking at you.
You gulped and tried to smile. “Not at all, Master Aizawa. I’ve simply never been without a chaperone before.” The heat at your face feigned a blush, and you turned away in an act of embarrassment.
Aizawa stopped walking and turned to you. “Do not fear. You are safe here. No harm will come to you as long as I am around.”
You noticed his fangs gleaming as he spoke. His words did little to comfort you. Although you had been in luxury since you arrived, you knew you were not free to leave. That was the agreement your father made when he traded you to pay his debts to the count. No matter how well you were treated, you were a prisoner.
“Y/N, the faults of your father are not your own. It is sad that his indiscretions led to such things, but I want you to feel comfort in your new home.” He spoke with dignity, completely ignoring your discomfort.
You looked down at the ground. “Am I free to leave?” you mumbled.
Aizawa frowned. “If that is what you wish.”
Liar.
Then the question you asked every night since you have been here. “Will you turn me into a monster?”
Aizawa let your hand drop and walked a few steps forward. “Y/N, I will indulge you in this question, but I warn you my patience isn't infinite.”
His back was to you, but you could see how tense his shoulders were. It was the perfect opportunity, you unfolded the stake from your dress.
“I am not a monster,” Aizawa’s voice rang out. “I will not turn you against your will, but I am lonely, Y/N. I wished to have someone who could keep up with my wit and my love. I still have hope that someone is you.” He still had not turned, and you creeped ever closer.
“A creature such as yourself can never feel love," you spat, and raised your hand to strike.
Aizawa whipped around - his coat fluttering as he did so - and grabbed your hand, stopping the arc of your strike. Deftly, he removed the stake from your possession and stared at it curiously. A look of sadness briefly crossed his face before returning to his normal stoic expression.
You pulled your hand from his grasp, your body going cold with fear. You knew now you would never be free of him. You could feel the tears stinging your face, the dread and hopelessness filling your heart.
Aizawa sighed and looked at you disappointedly, “My dear sweet, (y/n). I am centuries old. You need more than that to get rid of me.” He walked briskly past you as you fell to your knees sobbing.
“Perhaps,” Aizawa said at the edge of the garden, “We will try again in another century.”