Eternal Night

(II) Chapter 21: Carte Blanche

If Frankie had known Dracula would have appeared unannounced in her private bedchambers as he just had, she wouldn't have tried on the stilettos she had left out earlier this evening on her vanity. It wasn't like Vlad to delay in answering a direct query, but the distraction in his face was evident. She couldn't help but smirk a little mischievously, knowing perfectly well the picture she was providing.

Tightening the sash of her robe around her waist so she'd be a little better covered, she stepped out of the shoes and bent down to pick them up.

"Let me guess," she continued, the sound of her voice visibly jarring him from his thoughts. "Vesper told you about the secret door?"

The offering of idle conversation was gratefully received as the man seemed to return to himself, though his attention on her every move never wavered.

"Yes," was all he said at first, continuing when she momentarily disappeared into her closet to put the pumps away. "I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" she called out.

"You seemed uncomfortable when Meirás pointed out how long we had been talking..."

"Not uncomfortable," she explained, returning from the closet. "A little embarrassed by his implication, but I enjoyed our conversation this evening and have no reason to regret it, whatever he may say on the matter."

"I enjoyed it as well," he admitted, pausing for a moment as he took a step forward, pretending to take in the surroundings of her room. "I was disappointed to have it cut off so abruptly."

"Was my diatribe on the hypocrisy surrounding the French Revolution really so riveting?" she teased, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Although Frankie maintained a look of ease, she was watching him like a hawk as he slowly made his way over, stopping only to lean casually against one of the corner posts.

"I've always enjoyed hearing the first-hand accounts of those who experience history rather than merely study it," he explained, arms folded over his chest now. "Especially from one with your insight."

"You flatter me."

"I merely speak the truth."

Frankie smiled a little, amused by their current tête-à-tête, but also suspicious. Why was he really here?

"Tell me – Mr. Leinhart – you've lived for nearly a millennia now. What are some of the things you've seen?"

"Did you have something particular in mind?" he asked, boldly taking a seat on the other end of her bed. Though a little surprised by the action, she made no indication of being so.

"You and I have been acquainted for a while now, but I feel like there is still so much about you that I have yet to get to the heart of. I know so little about your life, who your family is – or was – where you come from, where you've been, let alone how you ended up working for Dracula..." That last item was delivered with a pointed look that suggested she knew better and though she never said as much, that unspoken understanding left the corner of his mouth twitching. "I wish to understand you. Will you help me?"

"That depends on what you'd like to know," Vlad answered cautiously, not quite sure if there was something more specific she had hoped to uncover.

"What if I made a deal with you?" she began, getting more comfortable on the bed. "While you and I are in this room, I propose that we grant one another carte blanche – you can ask or tell me anything that you desire, any question you've had about me or my past. Whatever it may be, I will answer as truthfully as I can, in as much or little detail as you prefer... but in return, you must grant me the same courtesy. Nothing is off limits and anything that is said within these four walls will stay between us. Agreed?"