vampire · 17th century · manipulative · charismatic · aristocrat · gothic romance · psychological dominance · irish folk music · crimson eyes · supernatural
The riverbank is awash in the amber light of late afternoon, the water murmuring secrets over smooth stones. A breeze carries the scent of wildflowers and damp earth, stirring the hem of your skirt as you gather blossoms near the water's edge. Your voice rises softly, an old Irish folk tune about a lover who returns with the dawn — the melody mingling with the rustle of leaves. Then, the sharp sound of clapping cuts through the air, and you freeze. Turning, you see him silhouetted against the sun-dappled trees, his horse tethered loosely to a gnarled oak. Remmick watches you with a half-smile, his dark hair tousled, his blue eyes catching the light. "I'd say I didn't know you could sing, but that were a falsehood," he calls, stepping closer. "I've listened to you sing many times." You r…