23rd of Late Spring - In which my friend Victoria and I reminisce about our times together during a visit to her mansion.
There she stood, waiting for me again down the street — Victoria Sheffield, my closest, best friend. This time, I kept her waiting by struggling to lock the door behind me; hard to do when you hold a parasol with your dominant hand. Nonetheless, I hurried to meet her on the cobblestone road once I finally got it done. I always said Victoria was a step ahead of me, but now I couldn't help but wonder whether I was just always falling a step behind her instead. Not that she was bothered by any of it, she looked serene and patient like the lady she has always been.
When was the last time the two of us had a romantic evening walk through town like that? When was the last time I visited her home? Seventy years ago? Eighty perhaps? I felt so wretched and guilty for this not being the very first thing I asked for when I arrived here. The air was so pleasant: the gentle smell of flowers from the forest with the occasional faint whiff of the sea carried over by the gentle breeze, the chirping of the birds and distant call of seagulls, the faint glow of the set Sun; it all made for the perfect time for a slow stroll. And still, I couldn't help but feel awful.
I looked down to my lovely companion, most of her face was covered by her golden locks. Yet still, I could see her smiling as she watched the view of the sunset in a distance. Whether it was a pained smile or a genuine one, I couldn't tell.
"I'm sorry for taking so long." I apologized, deflated.
"What's a few more weeks, really." she replied, her voice quiet and solemn "…after so many decades."
Her words just twisted the knife even further. I think she knew that too, she gave me a lovely yet gentle chuckle before continuing.
"Mel, please don't beat yourself up over it. We're here now, that is all that should matter. Okay?"
Victoria looked back up to me. The gentle late spring breeze danced around her moss green dress, and I could see the same joy twinkling in her eyes as when she helped me walk out of my crypt three months ago. She was right, it was time to leave the mistakes of the past behind and focus on what I wished to keep of it for this new life of mine. I brushed aside a stray lock and gave her hair a slight pet as reassurance, and soon afterwards the two of us found ourselves walking hand in hand down the clean cobbled streets of Belleport; slowly, calmly, without hurry — just like we did all those years ago.
Main Street was the first street of Belleport, and it was built practically overnight. It felt the same as all those decades ago, yet it also changed so much. The stone of the roads were more polished, the houses had more color, the trees that were at first just saplings were now tall and gorgeous. Yet thinking of these changes didn't fill me sadness or a sense of nostalgia anymore, instead I found myself admiring just how much more beautiful the town has become. My eyes drifted to all the new flowers in old, wooden flowerpots put out onto the porches, vibrant and even slightly fragrant. Then came the familiar arches again, leading to the central square. The view to the docks never failed to amaze me, but something about that orange glow slowly fading into the starry blue sky was especially picturesque tonight. We stopped for a moment to admire it in all its beauty.
"It's breathtaking." I whispered.
"Truly, it is." added Victoria, "Remember all the times we watched the moon set from here?"
"Of course, you bought the plot here in the beginning for silvers just to not have another house built here." I jested, prompting a small giggle out of the little noblesse. Indeed, the iconic moonlit view to the docks from this central point was thanks to Victoria too. Well, in part at least.
"I suppose I'm just business savvy like that." she replied after her momentary burst of laughter — that awkward-feeling yet wholly sincere laughter of hers. It felt like it was a bit different too; a bit less drawn-out than before. So many things have changed, and yet they all felt so familiar like that. Perhaps we all were a bit like this beautiful view: a little different, but fundamentally still the same.
About a minute later, the two of us moved on towards the other end of town. Once the Sun sets it gets dark quickly, and without the light of the Moon it gets really dark indeed, so I did my best not to idle around too much. Vampire eyes are better suited for the dark than that of the kine, sure, but perhaps investing in one of those oil lanterns could have been a good idea in the long run for these kinds of situations. My mind briefly started wondering about the lamp-man I scared off a few weeks back before I noticed yet another change: that one of the houses was given a bit of a touch-up as well; a fresh coat of pastel, ice blue paint on the walls and a striking draping of blue and white colors providing shade under a log bench. The plaque read "Ice Cream Shoppe" above the door.
"What's an ice cream?" I asked.
"Oh, you haven't had ice cream yet?" Victoria asked "It's a frozen dessert; you absolutely must try it come summer, it is delightful."
Despite the name feeling as self-explanatory as one could possibly make it, I struggled to imagine it. My eyes looked back to the plaque but no clues there, the windows only let me glance at ladders and paint buckets and tables stored inside.
"Think of it like a delicious, soft little snowball that comes in various flavors and fruits. You'll love it." my friend explained, reacting to my very visible confusion — and certainly, it was a helpful hint for my mind's eye. I kept underestimating the humans' ingenuity, I noticed. Metallic letter writing machines, candied flowers and now edible, fruity snowball desserts. Will the wonders ever cease?
"So, how is the moon mint shaping up to be this year?" I asked, my mind juggling the idea of a moon mint flavored one; surely if there was a flavor to go perfectly with something cool it'd be mint.
"I think we'll have a pretty good harvest, but it's a bit too early to tell." she responded, "I wonder whether you like the taste of it still."
"Well, only one way to find out. I still haven't tried the ones I got from Sophia yet." I replied coyly; I think I was waiting precisely for this moment. Whatever feelings I had towards moon mint previously have long been replaced with anticipation now, anticipation towards a lovely tea with the best second mate I had in my life. It'd be just like old times. It already was just like old times.
Eventually, the great walls of the houses abruptly ceased and we found ourselves on the outer perimeter of the town again. I don't think I've ever been this far out to the other side since I've moved here, but I did remember that the road would eventually curve uphill into the forest all the way to the Sheffield Mansion. One tree, one bush, one bit of foliage at a time the seaside view on the right side would be obfuscated a bit more and more until the vegetation would just about envelop us even from above.
The incline up to the building was steeper than I remembered, although it could be hardly compared to the uphill one has to face coming up from the docks. As I noticed the metal bars of the gate slowly appearing amid the leaves, I found my heart racing at the thought: what could it look like now? The answer would come in only a handful of seconds, and what I saw left my jaw agape.
"Oh wow~"
"I… might have made a couple improvements since you've left for the Mainland." Victoria chuckled.
Behind the eloquent bars of the gate, on the other end of a short, straight walkway through a gardenscape stood the now truly picturesque building of the Sheffield Mansion — and it was nearly unrecognizable from what I remembered. As Victoria took back the lead again, my vision focused on the gate once more: it had a pair of metallic leaf shapes and an ornate arch adorning the bars enclosed between two brick pillars. Said pillars also seemed to extend into a proper half-wall structure with more fencing on top that'd reach into the thick vegetation.
"Shall we?" said Victoria, the gate rattling and creaking as she opened it.
Once inside did I notice just how vast the entire courtyard looked. The road in the middle was dotted with two pairs of bushes, each trimmed into a perfectly round shape. In between them were a pair of already lit lanterns atop brick pillars with a stone slab top. They were easy to access, about the same height as the bushes were. Behind those were the two gardens in a symmetrical layout, with an outer and inner square punctuated by a small pillar in their center of each. Taller flowers and hedges made up the outer layer with smaller ones adorning the inner one — each vivid with colorful flora glittering amid the vast greens like the stars in the night sky. None of this was here last time I was here. None! I was so awestruck by the sheer majesty of the sight that my heart nearly skipped the beat as an unfamiliar face showed up in my peripheral vision panning around the view.
"Lady Sheffield?" she called out, heading our direction. The woman had fiery red hair that was tied up in a ponytail. Her clothes were ordinary and what you'd expect from a gardener: plain white and beige, as well as a tool belt around her waist.
"Good evening Ivy; you're still out? Not fancying the idle gossip tonight?" jested Victoria.
"Yeah, as if I ever do." replied the gardener with a brash, booming voice, looking over to my direction with a combative look in her emerald green eyes. Everything about her aura just burned like that of a total brawler.
"Ivy, this is my good friend Amelia Syreth… and also Melanie Syreth, or just Mel." she introduced us, "Mel, Ivy, the local gardener and guard."
Ivy took off her thick, leather gloves and I braced for the veins in my right hand to be strangled until my blood flow stops — sure enough, I was quickly proven correct as she confirmed every suspicion I had of her.
"The vampire lass, right? The Lady talked about you before. You shake hands like a princess or something!" she said, nearly ripping my arm off.
"Yeah, I'm just a bit bent out of shape." I replied, trying to keep a confident look — admittedly, Ivy's fiery and no-nonsense attitude was quite infectious. I kinda wished I could spar with her, a bit of a friendly duel of sorts one day.
"Anything to report?" asked Victoria.
"No, my lady, just the usual." she responded. Hearing the words "my lady" in such a gruff, tomboyish tone was certainly quite a curiosity.
"Thank you. Don't stay out too long."
"Of course."
With that, the two of us moved along, and I returned to admiring the wonderful flora on the sidelines. Ivy was doing an impressive job in maintaining the order and highly structured beauty of the scenery. Not a single weed or fallen leaf or stray branch to be seen anywhere. Maybe it was just because I couldn't see them in the dark though.
"She has a very sweet side, she just likes reserving it to the flowers." Victoria whispered once we got a good enough distance from the guard. Charming.
The mansion itself had a central hall as well as two symmetrical wings on the sides, all of them accessible through an oval park in the middle. The wings on the sides were connected to the square by a thin gravel path to make them as unobtrusive against the bombast of the main entrance as possible. Along the circular area were a couple of ornate benches made of wood and iron, with various potted flowers and shrubs besides them. Despite all this luxury, everything about this place filled me with a sense of homeliness like no other.
"Mind if I give them a closer look?" I asked.
"Not at all, of course not." Victoria replied.
Inside the clay pot were a batch of pink flowers — to my limited knowledge most likely cyclamen — all in full bloom. Despite the dark of the night, they were still vivid in color. Perhaps under the light of the Moon they'd have been even more beautiful. I crouched down by them to really admire them up close: in a week's time it'd be summer and yet many of these flowers were still blooming. Blooming. What a beautiful word to describe this sensation I was wrapped in today. Perhaps the last hundred or so years were just another series of seasons in my life as well: piracy as summer, normalcy as autumn, solemn hibernation as winter, and now I'm here in spring, my new life in full bloom just like these little flowers. I took a couple seconds to indulge in the warmth of that idea, before returning to my friend's company next to the entrance.
"I'd like to give Ivy her own little guard outpost one of these days, she- ow!"
As Victoria pushed the right wing of the main entrance inside, something smacked the door shut right into her nose that cut her sentence short. Something loud and tinny.
"I'm okay."
"Oh my goodness, Miss Sheffield!" a familiar voice called out from the other side, "I'm so, so terribly sorry!"
Sure enough as the door opened back up, a maid with a short chestnut hair sprung out to aid her mistress, Dominique. And what a lovely maid outfit she wore; with that red bow and puffy skirt. I don't think I've ever seen her in that before. Victoria took the incident with a laugh of course, but that did not stop Dominique from trying to set her clothes and her hair and say apology after apology, much to the lady's protest.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, Dominique, really. It's nothing."
"Countless apologies." the maid finished, finally letting the two of us in. There was the perpetrator of this preposterous plot: a rolling tray of empty yet clean dishes. Luckily, nothing fell off and broke in the accident.
"Miss Syreth, glad to see you here." Dominique said with a curtsy. Now "Miss Syreth" felt weird. Maybe I got used to April calling me "Miss Amelia" so much?
"Pleasure is all mine." I replied, giving her a small bow back.
After hanging our parasols around the rack on the side, I took a look around the main hall. The structure was the same — staircases curling around, leading up the second floor — yet seemingly everything else was different. The walls had a beautiful pearly white finish with golden trimmed panels on them; a larger frame on the top two-thirds as well as a shorter one on the bottom. The floor was now marble, an angled checker box of blacks and whites. The handles on the stairs however were still the same wooden ones as before, or perhaps they were new ones styled after the old ones: with a spiral figure at the bottom of each and spikes shaped vaguely like hourglasses. A couple wooden tables and shelves with empty yet lovingly hand-painted vases adorned the walls.
"Dominique, please show Mel my room. I need to take care of something first. You can leave the dishes there for now." Victoria instructed her servant.
"Understood." Dominique affirmed with a bow, turning to me "This way, miss."
With that, Victoria and I parted ways for a short while, heading in two opposite directions. Dominique did not hurry, she let me admire the interior of the mansion to the fullest extent — though most of the hallways were quite similar to the entrance hall. Many unused candle holders were hanging on the walls in-between the paintings of various landscapes and other scenes — but a particular one of a ship at sea caught my attention enough that I stopped to take a better look. That elegant curvy hull was unmistakably the same one the Piratoforte had. Dominique came back to join me, and although she very much looked like she had something to say, she chose to remain quiet. Of course, I understood, maids weren't supposed to chatter with guests, even if Victoria was no uppity noble to have a hierarchical decorum like that.
"Lovely painting, right?" I said, trying to coerce it out of her somehow.
"It really is." she replied, taking a few seconds to pause before ultimately giving in "Ms. Sheffield told me about Ms. Syreth being a captain too, I believe."
"We had an old caravel very similar to this, yes." I replied. Now I was feeling nostalgic for the sea again. Looking at that old wood sailing inside the ornate golden frame, it really had a sense of… dreaminess to its structure. It was the kind of ship you'd imagine when reading a fairytale of people going on a grand adventure. Perhaps that too was the reason why I had such romantic feelings for those times.
"I always wanted to go on a voyage on something like that. Sail the seas, see the world, meet other people." Dominique confessed. A yacht kind of girl, huh? Well, if there was anybody that had the connections to operate a pleasure craft of that caliber, it was Victoria. For all I knew she might even have had been one anchored down on other side of the forest and I just didn't know.
"What did you do before working here?" I asked, getting a move on; didn't want to keep Victoria waiting.
"Oh, nothing just, uhm… working… as a dancer." she stuttered, her pace quickening as if she wanted to run away from the embarrassing conversation to come. Luckily for her, seemingly every other servant in the building seemed to spring out from nowhere to save her. Though "save" might not have been the right word.
"Dominique! Excellent! Oh, are you busy?" called out another lass, a young chef with a strawberry blonde hair tied back for obvious reasons.
"I have to escort Ms. Syreth to the lady's room is all."
"Dominique! Why did you leave the cart at the door?!" sizzled Renee from behind, pushing said cart — her voice so alien it was hard to grasp that this was the same reserved, demure if not a bit hollow feeling maid whose blood I tasted from a cup just a few weeks ago.
"I-I'm sorry, the lady asked me to escort Ms. Syreth to her room!" Dominique repeated with nervous shout.
"Good evening, Renee." I greeted her, hopefully easing the tension in-between them.
"Good evening, Ms. Syreth. Apologies for the inconvenience." Renee responded, her demeanor switching back to her polite, calm one instantly. It was kind of frightening how she could swap between them so easily. I suppose her being chambermaid required a certain level of emotional malleability like that.
"See me in the kitchen when you're done." the head maid instructed my escort.
And just like that, we were let go. Dominique didn't waste to opportunity and scurried out of there with me in tandem. The secondary stairs to the upper floor was exactly the same simple, practical set that I remembered from so many decades ago. It made me very happy to see a recognizable face like that again, even if most of the mansion has changed. It still was super loud too.
"You get bossed around a lot?" I asked on our way up, trying not to shout despite the thunderous thumping.
"Well, yes, a bit. They don't seem to like me very much; I guess it's just because I'm the new girl." Dominique whined after we reached the top. I could relate, certainly had my fair share of being picked on during my time on the Mainland too. Still, I had a sneaking suspicion there was more to it than that. "Here we are. Enjoy your stay."
Victoria's room was exactly the one I thought it would be, the one it always has been at the very end of the northern wing, second floor. My heart was racing at the thought, faint memories of moss green walls, dark oak shelves and a great bed were flooding back to me. What could it look like now, I wondered.
"Thank you very much." I said, giving her a short curtsy once again. She mirrored the gesture and rushed to go back to finished her task with the dish tray downstairs if Renee hadn't done so already.
"Oh, Dominique! One more thing." I added, "You're welcome to the library any time."
"Thank you." she laughed with a blush before disappearing behind the floor again in a flurry of loud thumps.
I liked her. She was such a treat — literally too, considering that I've been drinking her blood for weeks now. If I could ever afford yet another bed, I'd have loved to have her over as my own, personal blood maid. I wondered if by "dancer" she meant what I thought she meant; would have been amusing given you could practically taste her virginity. A question for another time, once we're more acquainted, for now I had to return my focus to Victoria.
My heart was racing, but I knew better than to hesitate. I stepped up and gently knocked on the door to sign my arrival. No response. Now what? I supposed I could just try to enter, Victoria would've been certainly looking at me weird if she caught me standing around waiting for her to arrive at the doorstep after having Dominique lead me all the way here. My hand wrapped around the round doorknob, a gentle twist, a slow push, an anxious peek — as suspected nobody was inside.
This room, however… this room was exactly like what I remembered. Dark, moss green walls, antique wooden furniture, and ornate golden accents — every color, every style, every mood I associate with Victoria was still present here in full. Perhaps some of the furniture or the overall layout have changed, but the lady's atmosphere was tangible all the same. The first thing to notice were the door-sized windows on the other end of the room; the one in the middle leading out to the balcony. Each came with a set of double curtains, a light one with what appeared to be a leaf-like pattern to diffuse light, or a plain green one that would block out the sun entirely. On the left side was Victoria's queen-sized bed — almost comically over-sized compared to her stature — with all the luxuries one would expect, including bed hangings with even more curtains, smooth velvet sheets, compartments on the bottom of the bed and, of course, lots and lots of pillows. On the right were the rest of the furnishing: the wardrobe, shelves holding books or porcelain ware, a proper vanity table (complete with a mirror even) and a lovely writer's desk next to the window with many exquisite candle holders surrounding it.
The further I wandered inside, the more things I saw. The shelves housed rows upon rows of unnamed books with simple, plain fabric covers on the spine instead. The three-pronged candle holder had a little slot into which the wick trimmer was hung. In the corner of the room just behind the bed was a small round table with two chairs, presumably for guests. The room wasn't any bigger than my own, yet it felt so full.
"Is it just like how you remember?" a familiar voice asked from the doorway behind me.
I didn't realize the ironic twist in her question at the time as I was too stunned by her appearance to even think of such things — Victoria was wearing a mint green dress that was as gorgeous as it was… provocative. She wore fingerless gloves that reached up to her armpits. The skin-tight leotard covered her petite breasts with two "leaves" on top, the show skirt being made of several layers of translucent fabric that covered much of her bottom save for her crotch. The gradient of said skirt eventually also revealed her smooth legs too, and the green heels she was walking on. Eye shadows that'd match the rest of the ensemble accentuated her sky blue eyes, and two hoop earrings were draping down from behind her neatly brushed and permed hair.
I've never seen Victoria look like this. I've never seen Victoria look AT ME like this. She was strutting down the room my way with eyes full of longing; and not any kind of longing, either. This all felt… wrong. Nobody with such a childlike body should be wearing something as lascivious as this. But it was just that, wasn't it? A feeling. A rooster illusion of morality. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I could see Victoria's motives for what they really were.
"You are something else, you know that?" I complimented her.
"I'm just lonely." she sighed.
Of course she was; the only person she could have anything resembling intimacy with fell into a slumber for six decades. Even before that, it wasn't like the two of us had anything similar to speak of. Sure, we had our lewd jests and teases, we had a few nude accidents, and we of course had plenty of sentimental moments but there was only one occasion that has gone beyond that… and we all know which one that was. I had the keys to the one thing she's never had before.
"Poor little thing; if only there was an event where you could be risque and not be judged for it, right?" I said, which made her chuckle a little bit as she snuggled up to me.
"Indeed, if only…" she giggled, "I apologize if I came off as a bit manipulative about all this. I was afraid of how you'd react."
I didn't mind any of that; she was understandably desperate. Ultimately, Victoria needed me just as much as I needed her, if for different but complementary reasons. I understood that now. My right hand kept running through her hair over and over; it was so silky smooth and lovely to the touch. I was afraid to admit it for decades upon decades — perhaps from guilt, or from shame — but deep inside I always had that desire to taste the life-giving sapphire ink running through her veins again. To feel the warmth of her petite body against my own, hear every detail of her breathing as my lips lay themselves on her neck, taste her cold sweat as my fangs run across her skin trying to find the veins.
After a few more seconds, Victoria left my embrace. She made her way over to the windows and opened the door to the balcony. She tried her hardest not to show it but I could get a glance of her deep red cheeks nonetheless. The wind wasn't quite as gentle up here, but it was pleasant still, especially with all the lovely fragrances it carried up from the gardens below. At the same time it felt cool and refreshing as well, like the air after a mild rain. All the countless stars were twinkling in the night sky with nothing to obscure them, and in front of them stood the most beautiful blonde-haired darling I have ever known. She turned to look back at me from over her shoulder. If only this moment would last forever, I wished.
"You're feeling it too, don't you?" she asked; although she already knew the answer.
Indeed, I was feeling "it", hard it was to put into words. Like arriving to the Old Port after a long voyage. Like coming to the last chapter of a great book. A reassuring feeling of a near closure. A work almost finished. Judgment.
"Mistress, the tea and desserts as you have ordered." came in Renee and Dominique with a small tray full of desserts and some tea. Of course, I should have known that's what was the whole ruckus downstairs was all about — if there was anything that I knew would never change, it was Victoria's sweet tooth.
"Hey! Are you really going to eat in your Masquerade outfit a week in advance?" I called out as I watched her rush back inside to set up the little table and chairs. Such was my Victoria, indeed. I followed, might as well help out too. The maids didn't stay long, they just put down the tea and the cookies and left with a bow.
"So, what do you think of Dominique? Would you have her over as a… k-hmm, "blood donor" from time to time?" the lady asked.
"For sure, she's a sweetheart." I replied.
"Used to be a virgin stripper in a brothel before I hired her. Her owner ran with the money and left her hanging though." she explained, pouring me some moon mint tea in the meanwhile.
"Yeah, I figured. She tastes like one too." I replied, giving the brew a taste.
It was even better than I remembered.
The several hours that followed passed like mere seconds. She explained all the subtle differences between the cultivated moon mint and the wild ones we first found which one may still stumble upon out in the fields or in the forest by streams. She told me tales about the lewd web of black markets hidden under Belleport. She has shown me her collection of diaries that she's been keeping ever since as well. Books upon books, pages upon pages of both the mundane and the occasional extraordinary. Oh, how I wish I'd have brought my own little journal as well now. But it still had one more page in it left, and I knew full well what I had to write on it.
One more week.