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This led me to the dress shop for a gown fitting of the occasion. After combing through the stock, I landed on a dress of a beautiful crimson, tiny jewels shone like rubies as they hung from the fabric. It was all too much, puffy sleeves and a train trailing behind the mannequin.
“Beautiful, is she not?” the dressmaker asked as she came from behind.
“She is quite conspicuous!” I smiled, running my fingers over the dripping gems. They twinkled as they caught the light, tiny drops of blood.
“Truly fit for a princess, and with a princess’s price tag as well.” There was a cheekiness to her tone, and I laughed at her insinuation.
“I will take it, and a fur shawl to go with it. I assume there are matching shoes?” The dress maker’s eyes popped.
“Ma’am, surely you cannot afford all of this--”
Irritation pricked my skin and I leaned in closely to her, too closely perhaps for she shrunk away from me in terror. My emotions had been difficult to wrangle since my self-pitying in the bath.
“I will take the dress, shoes, and a shawl. Please have it ready for me,” I hissed, knowing the way my features became more angular as my posture changed. Trembling, the woman sputtered, gathering a young woman to assist her.
I returned to the hotel pleased, unpacking my new goodies to admire. The gown was the nicest I’d had the pleasure of owning in quite some time and I hoped it would remain with me for more than one occasion.
By evening I dressed, my hair let down and softly curled with a feathered ruby pin tucking the left side up. My ears dripped with ruby earrings I had found years ago, matching the necklace William had gifted me.
The necklace which still hung around my neck.
I ran my hands along the sides of the tightened bodice, watching the rubies shimmer with every step I took. As I affixed the fur shawl over my shoulders and stepped into the matching heels, I felt as though I were royalty.
Night was just kissing the sky by the time I left, purple shrouded in gray. Though any other hamlet I’d have stayed in would be tucking in for the night, London remained wide awake, the streets alive and well. My heels clacked on the pavement as I headed toward the Royal Opera House, anticipation for the evening bursting from me in a way I hadn’t known in decades. This was one of the first times I’d allowed myself the pleasure of such a treat since becoming a vampyre, to live some semblance of normalcy.
Horses whinnied ahead of me, their metal shoes clacking against the street as they tugged their carriages forward. Laughter of flirting men and women echoed toward me as I neared the opera house, the foot traffic thickening significantly. The building which came into few was stunning. All white stone with four massive pillars aligning the façade. Lights inside cast a golden glow onto the street in front where the beautifully dressed men and women mingled in absolutely no hurry to enter. It was teeming with life, fleeting and beautiful all in the same.
I could taste them as I seamlessly flowed through their current, filing my way into the building. They smoked heavily, the air thick with tobacco. A tingly sensation of frenzy hung in the air, people were glad to be out and finely dressed. Catching the eye of many suitors as I sauntered into the theater, a new thrill worked its way under my skin. Who might I take home with me tonight?
There came the tart sensation of instinct on the back of my neck, the one which recognized another vampyre present. Some vampyres I had met over the years had been kind and trustworthy while others had been hell bent on the destruction of everything beside themselves. Those frail vampyres did not often last long, taken out by either themselves or another. If I lay low then surely it would ensure no issues arose.
Scanning the wide area of the house, it was clear just how grand the building was. Three stories worth of balcony seating, a large stage with low lighting was closed by a heavy red curtain. There was a hum of chatter as many found seats and others stood talking.
I went to my own seat in front of the orchestra. Pushing past several of the smoking ladies and gentlemen, few exclaimed in shock and startle as I slunk around them, careful not to touch anyone. The room was quickly becoming stiff and warm with the heat of the humans. My throat burned, a primal voice in my head begging to murder them all.
Moments passed, the orchestra began to fiddle with their instruments but this class of Londoners seemed only interested in the social aspect of the opera; none of them paid mind to the impending show. There was a pang of sadness when I realized I was growing impatient with their rudeness, much like an elder would. How was I going to be in a hundred years? Exhaling heavily with impatience, I sunk further into the red velvet seat.
There was a sensation of eyes on me, pouring eyes. I sat straight, scanning the room again for the culprit. It had to have been a vampyre, the way my instincts perked up was telling. As my eyes drifted toward the entrance of the theater I caught the awe-inspired look of a handful of young men who lingered in the aisle of young ladies. They whispered to one another about the strange woman sitting in the front by herself. Me.
“Well, shall we go ask, then, if she is alone?” one questioned in the other’s ear.
“Yes, we shall. Dear ladies, will you excuse us?” The blond boy quickly pulled himself and his red-haired friend from the group of young women and rushed down the line toward me. I crossed my legs in agitation, they were much too young to take home.
“Excuse me, madame, we could not help but notice you are alone, where is your gentleman?” the blond one asked. I looked up at the two of them from my seat, baby faced boys who had yet to live. They seemed like they had not a care in the world and oh, how I missed that.
“What makes you believe for a moment, young sirs, that a lady such as myself would need a gentleman at all?” I gave them a most predatory smile. The red-haired boy bit his lower lip, tugging on the blond's arm.
“No envious man, my lady? With a woman as attractive as you? Any man should feel lucky enough to sleep in the same bed.” The blond boy smirked.
“Tom, you will get yourself killed if you don't move!” the red-haired boy whispered urgently. He was not ignorant in his surmise.
“I don't give a damn.” Tom shrugged, his hand came to rest on the back of my seat.
“I would go, Tom,” I said, standing from my seat and leaning toward him. His eyes dropped toward my breasts as I could feel them fighting to leave the confines of the dress. “I do not need a man to drain you of your blood. I’ll do it myself before fucking a stranger here with it still on my hands.”
To my satisfaction, the two of them drained completely of color, their mouths wide.
“THOMAS!” a woman called from the doors. The boys turned toward it while my eyes stayed fixed.
