The Vampire's Mail-Order Bride

“You look quite radiant,” Peyton remarked suspiciously.

“Thank you.”

Peyton laughed. “You are so adorable.”

“Thank you,” Rhapsody said again.

Their professor for Blood Chemistry was not overly fond of lectures and instead preferred her students to acquire knowledge by means of experiments and case studies. Over forty minutes had passed and Rhapsody and Peyton already halfway through with the day’s series of tests when a dimunitive redhead plopped down on the only other vacant chair in their table.

“You’re late again,” Peyton told the other girl darkly. “Also, you’re wearing makeup. You’ll get in trouble for that.”

“I’m not wearing makeup,” Emily snapped.

“Then what’s that on your lip?” Peyton asked sarcastically. “Blood?”

Emily took out a mirror case from her pocket to check her reflection. “Shit.”

“We’re not allowed to swear either,” Peyton pointed out.

“Mind your own business.” Emily threw Peyton an evil look while rubbing furiously on the mark until all that was left was her reddened skin.

“With pleasure,” Peyton retorted sweetly. “Will you inform the professor you would want to work on these experiments on your own or shall I?”

And so it went, with the two bickering back and forth for the rest of the morning, and it was times like this that Rhapsody wished the kingdom would allow for the use of ear plugs. She tried her best to concentrate on her studies, but when this proved too difficult, her mind began to drift elsewhere…until she found herself daydreaming about the time she spent in her Master’s arms.

Oh!

She quickly closed her eyes, but it was no use. She could still see her Master in her mind, naked and virile, his smooth skin turning golden under the candelight as he poised himself over her, the glistening head of his manhood already twitching at her swollen entrance—-

Rhapsody’s legs involuntarily snapped shut when she felt moisture suddenly rushing out of her to line her folds.

What madness was this?

How could she think of such a thing when she was in the middle of her lessons?

Rhapsody worked hard to keep such thoughts out of her mind for the rest of the morning, but this proved impossible, and the struggle had her hungry and exhausted by the time lunch break rolled in. Fortunately, it was also a time when Peyton and Emily were finally freed from each other’s company, and this allowed Rhapsody to enjoy some semblance of peace and quiet.

Although the dining hall was already quite full by the time Rhapsody and Peyton arrived, their favorite windowside table was still unoccupied, and no sooner had they taken their seats when the staff came to present the day’s menu cards.

Rhapsody opted for oysters and politely declined any of the fine wines offered. Peyton went for lamb and red wine, and as soon as the footmen pushed their trolley to the next table of students, the other girl quickly burst into speech. “Tell me you’re not really buying Emily’s story.”

“That she’s not wearing makeup?” Rhapsody asked blankly.

Peyton rolled her eyes. “No, silly. I’m talking about her boo-hoo story of being a poor little girl with a sick mother, blah, blah, blah.”

Rhapsody frowned. Indeed, everyone knew that Emily was from an impoverished family and with a seamstress mother who had recently fallen ill. It was the reason why Emily was often late or missing classes outright…or so the other girl said.

“There’s just something about her I don’t trust,” Peyton grumbled.

“You don’t trust anybody,” she pointed out.

“True,” Peyton acknowledged with a shrug. “But enough about that girl who always ruin my mornings,” she dismissed with a sniff. “You’ve heard about the Marquis of Sangre coming here, haven’t you? Everyone reckons the marquis has come here to acquire himself a pet,” Peyton shared in between elegant sips of her soup. “Do you reckon it’s true, though?”

“I do not think I can answer that,” Rhapsody said honestly. After all, her Master had not said anything about making their affiliation public.

Peyton, however, seemed to think she was joking. “You’ve got the dryest humor. I love it.”

When lunch break ended, it was their turn to part ways, with Peyton heading down the greenhouse for private lessons on botany while Rhapsody was to attend a weekly lecture on Social Graces. On her way to the third floor, however, a manservant approached Rhapsody, saying politely that he had in his possession a note from faculty.

Dear Rhapsody,

May I have the pleasure of your company this afternoon? I await your presence at the tower.

Sincerely,

Your Master

P.S. Excuses have already been submitted (and duly accepted) to your professors on your behalf.

A STRANGE TIGHTNESS constricted within the marquis’ chest as he watched the bookshelf by the alcove swing open to reveal a staircase from which his pet eventually ascended. He had spent the entire night in the school’s restricted library, reading what he could of soul seers. A foolish attempt to convince himself that Lady Zari’s vision might not come true, but it was all he could do, with Sir Isaac yet to respond to his urgent missives.