Eternal Night

(III) Chapter 3: Maternal Instincts

"I think you should take the day off," Vlad announced the following evening. He and Francesca had convened in the kitchen shortly after their sunset training session and were now sharing a bottle of blood.

Frankie was seated herself comfortably on the edge of the island, presently hovering over her warmed, porcelain mug like a sleep-deprived college student would over the first morning cup of coffee – as if it were the single most precious and sacred thing in the world. Before she could bring the rim to her lips she paused at his words, arching a single suspicious brow.

"Because of what happened this afternoon?"

"Partially, but more importantly, you've been under an inordinate amount of stress these last few weeks. Yes – I've noticed," he explained, leaning against the counter. His eyes missed nothing as she finished bringing the mug to her lips, drinking slow and deep. Her sigh of pleasure as the expensive dhampir blood slid down her throat made the corner of his mouth twitch. No one appreciated his reserves quite like she did. "What's more, I feel partially to blame. I had a sort of realization late this morning after we had gone to bed."

"And what kind of realization might that be?"

He took a sip from his own mug, and while the crimson soothed the hungered ache in his belly, it was not the nourishment he craved. He placed the cup down onto the counter.

"You were right."

"I often am," she said with a smirk. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific."

He chuckled, gently maneuvering himself to stand between her parted knees before placing his hands on either side of her as she continued to drink.

"What you so delicately referred to as my politically motivated bullshit early this morning..."

"You mean how you want me to lead this entire rebellion against Augustine on my own so I can prove to the people..."

"...that you're worthy to stand by my side as their queen. Yes. That. While I still believe that you proving your mettle to the aristocracy in particular is important, I should not have laid the whole of that responsibility on you."

"Technically you didn't, though," she pointed out, finishing off the contents in her mug before placing it down next to his abandoned one. She then reached out to rest her arms on his shoulders, desperately struggling to not get distracted by how delicious he looked without a shirt on. "You said that you would be with me every step of the way. It was because I didn't take counsel with you before the Váci Street demonstration that had me leading the people into a trap. That massacre..."

"Was a result of both of our negligence," he interjected, wrapping his own arms around her waist. "If we're going to rule together when all of this is done, we need to be working together now – and more frequently than we have been. Sharing the burden, the responsibility. Together."

"And having me take the day off accomplishes this... how?"

He tightened his hold, pulling her a little closer to him. The way her legs instinctively curled around his waist made his blood run hot.

"You haven't been sleeping through the day – even before Váci. And though you feed when I put blood in front of you, you're not very good about doing it when you're on your own."

"How would you know? Do you have people spying on me now?"

He didn't bother to dignify that with a response, but he did send her a meaningful look.

"You will serve the people, our people, better if you prioritize taking better care of yourself. I don't need or want your hard work with our training going out the window because you're too tired or hungry to stay ahead of your blood-rage. And I don't like seeing you bearing the weight of all this on your own. Not when I could help ease the burden."