Samantha was bored. And she was never bored, especially during Christmas. There were always parties to plan, cards to make, but this year was different, and she wasn’t really feeling up to it. She didn’t have any friends. Her parents wouldn’t let her have any. They weren’t even around, off to enjoy the evening with one of their too many friends. Samantha subtly wondered if they even knew it was Christmas and was supposed to spend time with family.
“Well, fuck this,” she said, putting on her coat. “I’m not going to be by myself on Christmas eve. I might as well go to the bar or something.”
Samantha held in her breath as she handed the bouncer her fake ID. Please let him believe, please let him….
“Go have some fun, Agnes.”
She curtsied before entering, earning her a few weird looks.
“Gowns are not exactly part of a bar attire, Agnes, or should I say Samantha?”
She gasped before curtsying. “My prince, I…what are you doing here?”
He lifted his glass of cognac. “Drinking my sorrows away. You?”
“I don’t even know. Mind if I join you?”
He nodded, and she took up the empty space beside him before smiling at the bartender. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Eloive said as he asked for a refill. “You’re underage.”
“I’m older than you,” she said before looking around. “The people here seem to be filled with the Christmas spirit. I mean there are a few decorations, and even a tree. And there’s you, looking down to earth. What’s got you drinking, Eloive?”
He smiled. “You said my name for the first time. I should go for thanksgiving.”
She returned it. “I’m serious. What’s got you drinking?”
“I don’t have to explain shit to you. What do you want, Samantha?”
“I don’t know. I feel so…”
“Lost? Confused? Yeah, I know the feeling. You gonna drink that?” he asked, gesturing to her untouched glass.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, grabbing the glass and bringing it near her lips. “Drink up, Samantha.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Come on, it would be fine.”
“Eloive!”
“Just a sip. You can do that, right?”
Toreh watched as Eloive fed Samantha the glass of cognac. She was hurt, and she didn’t even know why.
“Um, I think you do.”
Toreh glared at the vampire prince as she moved to the side. “Are you stalking me now?”
“The same way you’re stalking him? Maybe.”
“I’m not… I work here, okay? Do dishes and stuff.”
“Then why are you not in uniform?” he asked.
She glowered. “Why the fuck are you here, William?”
“I could ask you the same, Torch.”
She scowled at him. “My name is Toreh, not Torch.”
“It’s Wilhelm. I’m here because I’m hungry.”
“There’s food in the kitchen.”
He raised a brow. It clicked. “Oh. So you’re here for your uh…meal?”
“Yeah.”
“There are bags of blood in the palace. You could just drink from there.”
“What fun would that be? Come on, help me pick my next meal. Or do you think that I should go for Samantha?”
“She’s an Icelander. You don’t feed on Icelanders, do you?”
“Depends on the Icelander, and from the way I see it, you want her gone,” he replied.
“No, I don’t. You’re…you’re not feeding on her.”
She glared at him. “You know, I liked you better when you called me Torch.”
“Sorry,” he apologized.
“Didn’t know you knew the word.”
“I’m trying my best to be nice. Don’t ruin it.”
“Why?”
“It’s Christmas, Toreh. If I don’t behave, I’m gonna be grounded.”
She laughed. “You, grounded?”
“My mother can be very strict with her rules.”
Toreh laughed. “She won’t know, so chill out.”
“You’d be surprised. Dance with me, Toreh.”
“Why? You don’t even like me.”
“I don’t have to like you to dance with you. Now come on.”
He pulled her to the dance floor, and Toreh yelped, the action garnered Eloive’s attention. He fixed his eyes on the duo as they moved across the dance floor. Samantha noticed and turned to watch them.
“Are they part of your…”
Eloive cut her off. “Samantha, do you wanna dance?”
“No, I don’t really…”
He cut in again. “Come on, it would be fun.”
He pulled her to the dance floor and began slow dancing, twirling Samantha around and around; she thought she would puke.
“Okay, this isn’t working, Eloive. I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Do you really think I’m stupid? You’re trying to make her jealous. That’s what all this charade is about.”
“No, it’s not.”
“If that’s true, then kiss me.”
He released her. She chuckled sadly. “Exactly what I thought.”
Pissed, he walked back to the bar stand and ordered two shots of tequila.
“So, you’d rather drink and dance with her than talk to me.”
Eloive looked up to see Toreh sit down.
“Shouldn’t you be dancing with Wilhelm?”
“He’s a horrible dancer, but so am I. Eloive, I didn’t come over here to discuss Wilhelm.”
“I was hoping you won’t be calling him by his name.”
“What’s your problem?”
“You. You’re my problem, Toreh. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard to forget you, but I can’t. I feel sick when you’re not near, Toreh, and I can’t think when you’re near. Does this make sense?”
“It doesn’t have to, Eloive,” she whispered.
“I’m the worst prince there is. Look at me getting drunk on Christmas eve!” he exclaimed, downing his drink in two swift gulps.
She laughed. “It’s kind of my fault. I mean I was cold to you earlier, and with the whole thing at lunch, I…”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Sssh. We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I just want to enjoy this.”
“We’re not supposed to be seen together, Eloive,” she whispered as he leaned in.
Eloive didn’t care. And he proved it when he claimed her lips. It would have become serious if Toreh didn’t push him away.
“We’re not supposed to do that either.”
“It’s Christmas. I can do whatever I want. What do you say we continue this in my room?”
“It’s too risky, Eloive.”
“The stables. It’s great for making out.”
She laughed again. “No. We can’t afford to be seen, Eloive.”
“She has already seen.”
“She?”
“Samantha. She figured it out.”
“Ah. Do you think she’ll tell?”
“I don’t know. I like her, but I can’t see us being more than friends.”
“It’s the same thing with us.”
Eloive felt secretly overjoyed that she had finally admitted that there was an ‘us.’ “No, it’s not. You and me, we’re different.”
She cocked her head. “How so?”
“Well, when I’m with Samantha, I don’t have this desire to claim her lips. When I’m with her, I don’t have this need to know her better.”
She was surprised. “I…I have no idea.”
“Well, now you do.”
“I…I have to go,” she said, rising. He pulled her back. “What the hell? You can’t just leave.”
“Well, I can, since my owner has permitted me freedom of movement. Plus, I have to be home in time for dinner, Eloive, so yes, I can leave.”
“I don’t see why you’re in a hurry. It’s just three o’clock.”
“It takes me three hours to walk home, Eloive, and an hour to get Amar to forgive me.”
“Amar?”
“My sister.”
“Oh, the one that has a boyfriend?”
“Had. Your uncle killed him, remember?”
“Oh right. I have to apologize for that,” he said. “In person,” he added.
“You don’t mean…”
“Yes, cupcake. I’m taking you home. And who knows, I might just have dinner with your family.”
“You can’t.”
“I can. I will. I am.”
“I’m serious, Eloive. You can’t come. My mother and sister, they despise you. The royal family. In fact, anything that spells Icelander.”
“Awn, look at her being all caring!” he gushed. “I’ll be fine, cupcake. I’ll armor up if it will make you feel better.”
“No armor.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
“This is not going to end well.”
“Optimism, Toreh. Come on, it’s Christmas.”
“Yes, it is. Merry Christmas, Eloive.”
He kissed her forehead. “Merry Christmas to you too, cupcake. Now let’s go before Wilhelm realizes that we’re gone.”