Bread and Butter

Honestly. Men. When they were hungry, with their stomachs grumbling, it was as if nothing but food could quell their irritable natures. Victor was no exception to this idea, and Ileana found herself growing impatient with him. The food from the village was to be delivered within the hour, and he was acting as though they had housed an empty eatery for weeks. Really, they finished the food at breakfast, knowing that the Count’s servants would bring the week’s shipment of food from the village by the afternoon. But no, Victor was hungry, and therefore everything Ileana may accidently do wrong was a frustration to him. The last straw had been her inability to locate one of the charts that she had recently drawn up of the Creature’s brain design. He sent her out of the lab in a hurry, demanding that she oversee the food arrival and alert him as soon as it was prepared. Turns out, as she was leaving, she caught Igor pulling the etching out from a pile of papers he had in his hand, claiming to have found it somewhere in the back. Annoying bastard.

Spring had turned to summer, and Ileana’s dislike for the disfigured man had grown. It wasn’t as though he was ever openly rude to her, but he was... sly. Devilish and tricky, it seemed like he was constantly trying to undermine her in front of her uncle, and lately he was doing such a good job with it. Although she had expressed her concern with him to Victor, the man was still solid on the Count’s feel toward Igor, which meant Ileana had no hope in persuading him to think otherwise.

Ah, the Count. Dracula, as she was now allowed to call him. His first name, Vladislaus, was simply too informal for her, though for some time he had insisted that she used it. They were no longer strangers, having spent over half of the year together, but she still couldn’t bring herself to do it. He had a tendency to flit in and out when the weather was bad, as though Ileana only needed company then. She had a sinking suspicion that he was sweet on her. Perhaps it was her inexperience with men, or perhaps it was because Victor spoke openly that he seemed as though he was courting her with all his gifts (Of which Victor seemed quite content for her to receive, mind you.), but there was something in his behaviour that made her question his motives toward her. Regardless of that, he had never pushed his boundaries with her, though sometimes she wished he would. She was getting to the age in life where she was looking to settle down with someone. Ileana didn’t want to spend the rest of her life tending to her uncle and his experiments, so should Dracula be intent on courting her, he ought to make his intentions known! At least she would know how to feel... for now, she was stuck between pondering whether he had some interest in her, or simply saw her as a bit of amusement while visiting the castle.

The Creation, or Creature, or whatever they were calling him these days, was really starting to take form. Once Victor and Igor had stripped away the vital skin and organs from the grave robberies they had performed, Ileana found it easier to work when nothing was... intact. Although she had discovered a new skill in her etchings and drawings, she still took part in connecting wires to conduct electric energy, and she was an observer of the construction of the metal lightning rods on the roof of the laboratory tower. The rods would catch the electricity of their frequent storms, sending the energy down a countless array of wires and into the Creature, which was supposed to bring him to life. When he was ready, that is. For now, they had the upper torso and legs constructed. They were... large, slightly awkward, and she had no idea how they were going to connect it all together, but Victor had been studying the human form vigorously these past few months, and he was quite sure that he would find a way to bring everything together.

Ileana stalked away from the large laboratory, glancing out the window at the hazy day. The summer in the north was nothing like it was in the south, especially surrounded by these ominous mountains, and although it was much warmer outside, she still found the sun lacking. Maybe Vaserious, the village in which Ileana had been living for some months now, was simply doomed to spend the majority of its time in darkness. A little like England, to be honest...

Passing one of the stained glass windows, Ileana paused a moment as she spotted the gates to the courtyard opening, and she noted the familiar figures of Dracula’s servants as they carried in sacs of food on their back. Where they managed to find such rich food was beyond her understanding. From her vague memories of the village, she never remembered seeing such delicious food anywhere, though she had never been there long enough to get a good look. Like the obedient niece and companion she was, she rarely ever tried to go back to the village. When she did, it sent off unnecessary tempers from all the constituents in the house, and it was pointless to argue around it. A firm look crossed her facial features, and she picked up the skirts of her pale purple summer dress – one that had been shipped over from England courteously by her aunt on her mother’s side – as she quickly ran toward the main entrance of the castle. Her bare feet hardly made a sound on the stone floor as she moved, and she hastily pulled the wooden door open, brown hair swinging as the wind drifted in pleasantly to great her.

“Yes, yes, come in,” she ordered warmly, smiling at the men. Naturally she was kind to them; they brought her food. However, not one of them spoke a word of English, and they would usually do nothing back but return the smile and utter a Romanian word or two. There were quite a number that she understood having lived here for so long, but the accents here were different, and it took a little to adjust to. “Cuhnie, pofti.”

Kitchen, please. She knew at least that much to communicate with them. The men, dressed in traditional summer garments for the countryside, nodded and smiled as they always did, though by now they knew their way to the kitchen without her having to direct them, so she simply stood holding the door open as they all filed in, sacs of fruits, vegetables, breads, and raw meats all flung over their shoulders as they went. They returned moments later, some tipping their hats at her as they tucked away the few coins she and Victor usually left them to collect as a tip, and they were soon gone as quickly as they came. Naturally, all the food was left in a pile on the large table in the kitchen, and it was now Ileana’s dubious task of sorting through them and putting them in their proper place. Then she would have to make Victor and Igor some lunch, and hopefully he would forgive her for “misplacing” the charts earlier.

Rolling her eyes heavenward at Igor’s crafty nature, she sauntered toward the kitchen at the opposite end of the castle in comparison to the laboratory. Once she was inside, she grabbed her cream cooking apron and wrapped it around her waist, figuring the sooner she got to work, the sooner she would be finished. It seemed so demeaning, this ‘women belong in the kitchen’ attitude that her uncle had adopted every since they moved here. Back in their old lodgings, they had a servant who tended to such tasks, so perhaps Ileana was simply spoiled, and this had been her place in life all along. Regardless, she couldn’t help but gag as she unpacked the raw meats to set in the cold eatery in the adjoining room. There were some that were already cooked, and she figured she could use that to slice and place on the sandwiches she had planned to cook for lunch. The buns, when they arrived, were always so fresh, and it was best to use them quickly before they turned stale.

“My,” a familiar voice mused from the door to the kitchen as she retrieved a slate cutting board from a cupboard, “don’t you just look the very essence of a polished summer bride.”

A smile crossed her lips, and she set the board down on the counter as she turned back to eye her Romanian visitor. He looked the same as always, and it seemed even the warm summer winds couldn’t bring Dracula out of his black riding attire. It was as though he was in a constant state of mourning with his clothes, although his riding boots were occasionally brown, and the rings he wore on his fingers varied in colour.

“I thought I should add colour to such a grey day,” Ileana commented dryly, cocking her head to the side as she studied him, and noted that, as usual, he had some sort of package in his hand. And there was her uncle’s voice at the back of her head again, insisting that he was courting her with all his plush gifts. The woman arched an eyebrow playfully, drying her slightly meaty-smelling hands on her apron, “So what did you bring me? You’ve been gone an awful long time, Count.”

The last time she had seen him was nearly two weeks earlier, which might not have seemed like long to most, but she was used to seeing him at least once every few days. The man shrugged his shoulders, setting the package behind his back as he stepped into the room, “Perhaps I had hoped absence would make the heart grow fonder.”

“Or you knew I’d get more and more curious about what you’d bring me back,” she mused, trying to see around him. “Or maybe that isn’t for me?”

“No, it’s for the other charming woman in the castle,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes quickly before walking over toward the table. There were still quite a few vegetables and cheeses that she needed to put away, and he pushed them to the side as he set the slim, albeit wide, black box on the table before taking a step back. She looked from him to what he had brought her, then back again, and he nodded his head toward it. Normally Ileana wasn’t outwardly excited for his presents, and she accepted them with all modesty and a humble tone... but it was all this silly talk of courting that had made her a little more giddy than usual to see him again. Clearly they were putting ideas in her head, that uncle and the little nagging feelings she had, but perhaps they were correct?

She gently pulled off the lid of the box, her eyes widening when she caught sight of the exquisite material beneath it. Casually setting the lid aside, Ileana carefully extracted the garment that he had purchased for her. It was a summer dress, no doubt, but dark enough to suit his style. A deep green, one that fit some of the darkest pines in the surrounding forest, was the shade of the dress, with no sleeves and a lower neckline than she was used to with her dresses. It simply reeked of expense, and she looked back at him, eyes wide as she wordlessly questioned the extravagance of it.

“It’s from Paris,” he informed her, taking a step up behind her and running a hand along the material as she held it before her. There were dark patterns around the waist line, giving the impression of a corset without actually having to wear one. Judging by the length of it, it would show off her ankles from the front, though the back seemed a touch longer.

“Is that where you were?” she inquired absently, her eyes following his fingers as they touched the fabric, “Paris?”

“Yes,” he replied softly. “Visiting an old friend.”

“You never told me you were leaving the country,” Ileana remarked, glancing back over her shoulder at him. He smirked weakly, “I wasn’t aware that I needed to.”

“You don’t,” she replied quickly, returning her focus to the dress. “This is lovely... It’s... beautiful and I’m sure it will look stunning on, but I can’t think of anywhere I would wear it.”

After all, she was wearing some purple contraption from England that seemed like something a forest nymph would wear, lacking a figure with a square-neckline. This was the appropriate attire for her work around the castle, and even the village wouldn’t give her an excuse to wear something this fine.

“A Hungarian prince, a distant relative of mine, his wife just gave birth to a son,” he explained pleasantly, “and there is to be some celebrating in Budapest in two days with all of his other distant relatives and close ones so that he can show the infant off. There will be fireworks and shows from their army... I should like to bring you and your uncle as my guests.”

“Oh,” she breathed, understanding finally, yet also noticing that he was standing much closer to her now than he had been before. “Oh, well that seems... like an occasion to wear such a nice dress.”

“Indeed it does,” he murmured softly, reaching forward and delicately tucking her hair behind her ears, “although I might need some help convincing your uncle to leave the laboratory for a day or so to come join in the festivities.”

“I... I don’t see why I couldn’t help with that,” she stated, her voice quivering as she felt his cold finger run down from her ear to her neck, down her shoulder, where it paused for a moment, then fell back to his side. A smile was on his pale lips as she looked back at him, and he nodded, “Good... I would be very upset if you couldn’t join me because of work.”

“We’ll see what we can do, I suppose.”

There was a moment of silence between the pair, and she shifted from foot to foot as she pulled the dress close to her body, eyes glancing down at it as he resumed his prior action, this time gently running his finger along her cheek. This had to be it. He must have felt some fleeting fancy for her, or he wouldn’t pay this much attention to her... He wouldn’t buy her such expensive dresses and want to whisk her off to Budapest – albeit with Victor in tow, unfortunately – and there wouldn’t be a reason for... touching her like this. Her cheek must have felt on fire to his cold touch, as she was no doubt blushing profusely at the attention from a man. It was the first real time any had ever taken their ... possible affections any father than mild flirting with Ileana, and while it made her nervous, it was sort exciting too!

She inhaled unsteadily as his entire hand now cupped under her chin, his expression somewhere between serious and curious. She blinked rapidly as he took a step in closer, and there was nothing she could think of doing with her hands but keep them holding the dress up to her body, her one current barrier between him and her. There was another pause, though they clearly both knew what was going to happen, and she licked her lips hesitantly. He was going to kiss her. Her first real kiss and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She had no woman to school her in these matters... And there was a sudden panic that she would be a terrible kisser because she had no idea on this green Earth what she was supposed to do. Maybe it would just come naturally?! Oh, who knows. Her heart fluttered violently as he dipped his head down, his lips very gently pressing against hers.

It was still a shock that he was so cold. She sort of assumed that he would be, seeing as every other part of his body was, but the sensation made her suck in a gust of air quickly, one of her hands tentatively reaching out to touch the buttons of his jacket as she turned to face him. This wasn’t so bad, really. She didn’t have a clue why she had expected it to be so much more... worrying. At least, for the moment, it didn’t seem like one needed a lot of skill to do this. His lips were firm, and the pressure between them increased slightly. She liked this...

Within a moment, he stepped away quickly, releasing every bit of her and creating a sizeable gap between their bodies. Stunned, she stared at him for a moment, and he turned his head back to the door, hands behind his back politely, and not a second later she heard Victor come grumbling down the hallway, his muttering echoing in the air that seemed so still now. She would need more time to compose herself, and she assumed that there was nothing she could do now to remove the bedazzled expression from her face.

“Ileana,” her uncle snapped before he had even stepped into the kitchen, “I thought I told you to tell me when the food arrived, I’m quite...”

He trailed off as he came to an abrupt halt not two steps into the room, no doubt taking in the scene between Dracula and Ileana. Her flushed cheeks probably gave them away, and there was, once again, a moment of awkward silence, until Dracula nodded his head in a greeting toward him, “Victor.”

“Dracula,” he returned, clearing his throat, “I... Er...”

“He brought me a dress,” Ileana stated, formulating the only sentence that could come out of her mouth in a somewhat rushed fashion, “from Paris! Isn’t it lovely?”

“Oh, yes, dumpling, just gorgeous,” he replied, resuming his usual bubbly manner that he adopted whenever Dracula was around. “You really do spoil her something terrible, Count.”

“Hardly as often as I would like,” Dracula noted. “I was telling your niece earlier... A relative of mine, a Hungarian prince, just had a son, and he is having a celebration in Budapest this Friday. I was hoping you and your niece could accompany me as guests... Something of a two day holiday, which I think is much deserved with all the progress you’ve made these past few months.”

Ileana’s eyes landed on her uncle, no doubt looking as though she was pleading with him to agree to it. He cleared his throat once again, “Yes, a holiday... Yes, I think that would be quite a sight to see, the capital all decorated up. I’ve always wanted to attend something like that!”

“It’s settled then?” the Count mused, glancing back between the other pair in the room, “I shall fetch you Thursday night, and we will arrive in Budapest the next day to enjoy the festivities that night.”

“Sounds brilliant,” Ileana commented, flushing again when he glanced back at her with a slight smile. With that, he bid them farewell until then, and departed. Leaving Ileana standing alone in the kitchen with her uncle, they both looked at each other, clearly aware of the situation, yet neither were willing to talk about it with one another.

“I’ll bring your lunch in a moment, Uncle,” she finally forced out. He nodded, then quickly vacated the kitchen, leaving her alone. She reached up and gently put the tips of her fingers to her lips, a chilly sensation still present.

***********************************************************************************

“It hardly seems logical-“

“This man and Dracula are relatives, therefore it seems almost certain he’ll attend the celebrations!”

“Yes, but then we too are related-“

“But we don’t need to heed the invite!” Velkan argued with his father, knowing that for once he was right. “We’ll take the Frankenstein castle when we are sure he’ll be gone... We’ll take back Ileana and her uncle, should they still be alive, and roast the local who is helping that villain!”

A round of thunderous cheers erupted from the meeting. This Friday... It would be a day to remember.