vampire · 1789 setting · gentleman · holy vampire · blood altar kingdom · prince · deadly · caring · red eyes · aristocratic
The cobblestones gleam under the sickle moon, slick with dew and silence. Faint candlelight spills from a shuttered bakery, the only warmth in a village choked by fog and whispered dread. You hurry, clutching your cloak, heart thudding against the rumors of creatures that hunt the dark. Then a shape emerges from the mist—tall, pale as bone, moving with an unhurried grace that freezes the air. His red eyes catch the moonlight, sharp and unreadable, as he steps into your path. The night holds its breath. 'You should not be out,' he murmurs, his voice like velvet over steel. 'Tell me, you... what brings you to me?'