Gilen led you through a number of endless corridors, all of which had red wall paper with designs of gold etched on. Every so often a marble column would appear attached to the wall to break up the two continuous colors. Even though much of what you assumed to be a moderately sized castle was red in one way or another, and you had to admit that whoever designed or remodeled the castle had some amazing interior decorating skills.

        You stopped at a peculiar painting that you nearly passed by without a second thought. From what you could tell it was an antique oil painting of an older man and two younger boys. The eldest male had dark auburn hair with soft waves and curls mingling. His hair wasn't terribly long or too short. His eyes were a reddish grey color but seemed to still have a gleam to them. His face was well chiseled, lips pursed. To the man's right stood a boy with blond hair, a strangle curl stuck out to the right of his head. His eyes were also a reddish grey color. On the other side of the man was the other boy, hair the same shade of auburn but with dark red highlights compared to the adult's hair, which now, upon closer inspection, had a slight purple tint to it in some spots. The second boy's hair also had a curl jutting out, this one swooping the opposite direction of the other boy's. His eyes were a red color, but they lacked the grey tint the others' eyes possessed. Both younger males looked to be the same height, so telling who was older was nearly impossible. Another stark difference between the boys was blond's bright smile in comparison to the auburn's deep frown.

        Gilen reappeared, rounding the corner he had vanished around moments prior. No longer hearing your footsteps in cadence with his own, he retraced his steps to the last place he saw you: the painting on the wall.

        He stood behind you, hands clasped at his back as he smiled. "I see you've found one of the many portraits of the royal family," he said. "Part of it anyway."

        You remained facing the painting but gave a nod to show that you acknowledged his comment. "I guess so, though I don't really know who they are. I mean, I could guess, but we don't exactly have pictures in our textbooks of them back home," you replied quietly, gazing hard at the elder male's figure.

        Gilen chuckled, head nodding. "I suppose you're right. Let me explain for you then. The man in the center was once our king, Romulus, and the grandfather of the two boys in the picture. The boys are the two princes."

        "Luciano and his older brother?"

        "Ja. I won't say who is who. I'll leave that as a surprise."

        "Gilen, please just tell me?"

        "Nein. You will find out soon enough."

        You let out a low groan, shoulders slumping in defeat. "What about the other royals then? You said that this painting only pictured a few of them."

        Gilen ushered you further down the hall, a hand placed on your lower back. He stopped in front of another portrait, this one in the same medium as the last and just as skillfully crafted. In it stood six figures. Three of them you recognized as Romulus, Luciano, and his brother. The other three, two females and a male, were foreign to your memories, though you vaguely felt like you had seen them before. Where, you weren't sure, but you decided upon once in a dream.

        The slightly older looking female had long blonde hair styled half up-half down. Her skin was tanned but not as darkly as Romulus'. Her eyes were a stunning shade of dark purple with flecks of what appeared to be a magenta color, conveying kindness and happiness, settling a feeling of ease upon your very soul. The other female, another blonde but with natural silvery blonde highlights mixed into her wavy mane of hair, had a similar complexion but bore forest green eyes, also gentle in comparison to the eldest of males in the picture. Finally, the male had a skin tone much closer to Romulus' and the same color hair. Although his hair had blondish highlights rather than a purple tone. His eyes were the same shade of purple as the first woman's but were complimented with specks of gray.

        "The one closest to Romulus is his wife, Rema," Gilen began. "Lovely lady. Very kind hearted and motherly. Strong familial background. The man on the other side of Romulus is their only child, Giovanni. He took after Rema in a lot of ways, mainly mannerism. Beside Rema is Giovanni's wife, Florentina. She has had a strong familial background. Her and Giovanni had the love story of the century when they wed."

        "They're no longer living, are they?" you questioned, recalling something about a murder from high school.

       Gilen shook his head slowly. "They've been gone for quite some time, lives cut too short too soon. They could have done great things if they were still with us."

        "You sounded close to them..."

        "I was. My family was. However, that past is the past, and we can't change how things turned up no matter how hard we wish it. We can only look to the future and hope to prevent the same mistakes from happening."

        You nodded, eyes fixed on Florentina.

        "You can still see them today. Well, maybe not today since your schedule is a bit busy, but I'm sure if you asked Luciano, he'd be willing to take you to their mausoleum to view them. Not that you'd want to! I mean, vampires are your people's sworn enemies! Why would you care about some dead vampire royals...?" the male rambled.

        "Gilen?"

        "Ja?"

        "Shh. It's fine. I know what you meant."

        He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright... Well, let's keep going."

        You only nodded in response and began to follow him once more. You silently hoped that the blond boy in the paintings was the one you were going to marry, but something pitted deep in your gut told you that it wouldn't be the case. The blond boy seemed to be quite cheerful and pleasant in comparison to the other's cold and distant nature. Is this what you were doomed to? A marriage with a vampire whose love for you most definitely only extended to your beauty and possibly even your blood? You tried to cleanse your mind of the latter reason, a chill running down your spine. The second thought alone was enough to make you uneasy, but you couldn't show your fear, your discomfort.

        Gilen suddenly stopped in front of two large, ornate doors, causing you to collide with his back. He chuckled, knowing that you had spaced out on the long walk to the throne room. You gave him a playful punch to his left shoulder, a small giggle of your own slipping past your lips. Gilen's laughter died off, expression shifting to something more serious. You did the same, putting on a brave face. Gilen gently rapped his knuckles against one of the doors. A muffled "enter" came from the other side. Gilen slowly pushed open the door he had previously knocked on and stepped aside to let you pass. You strode past him with an air of confidence, smiling to him as thanks. He smiled back and moved to stand behind, using his body weight to close the heavy object behind him.

        Your eyes immediately widened in awe. The walls were just like the ones in the halls: same wallpaper, same designs, and same white pillars. A giant chandelier, undoubtedly made from the finest glass crystals and glittering gemstones, hung from the center of the ceiling, circles of implemented light bulbs causing the shards to twinkle. At the front of the room sat a raised platform, and a top it was an elaborate throne. It was skillfully crafted from mahogany wood, much like you new box you received. Designs were carved into the sides of the backing, creating gaps to showcase the stone wall behind it. The middle of the backrest, seating, and armrests were encased in a red velvet cushioning.

         Your eyes wandered to the side of the room. Standing before a nearly floor to ceiling window stood a man. He wore a deep red waistcoat with intricate designs of gold on it. A white poet shirt was situated under it with a matching cravat with a jewel in the center, a sapphire by the looks of it. He wore black dress pants and dress shoes of the same color.

        There was no doubt that this was the sullen boy from the oil paintings, what with the dark auburn hair and the air he carried about him. This was Luciano. This was the man who wanted your heart, wanted your body and soul. Your spine went rigid as your hopes and dreams were crushed to a fine dust, just like the Atamis stones. Were you to be a pawn in this inevitable continuation of a long running game of cat and mouse between this blood sucking leech's people and your own? That answer could only be revealed with the passing of time, but something told you it would turn out true.

        The man turned to face you slowly. His eyes were cold, distant even, but they soon softened into something warm and inviting. He beckoned you forward, crooking his finger in a come hither motion. Complying to his silent request, you gracefully walked towards him with a straight face. You stopped a few feet before him and curtsied, though only because he was royalty, and you had been raised better than most. He offered a half smile, then moved closer to lessen the gap between the two of you. He then took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to place a delicate kiss upon your knuckles.

         "Ciao bella," he said, voice smooth as silk.

        'Why? Why does he have to be Italian?' you mentally whined. 'Now my predicament is a thousand times worse...'

        Luciano frowned at your paling complexion. He knew you'd despise him from the start. He was the one to order your kidnapping after all, but why were you paling? Did the sheer thought of being with him disgust you that much? That had to be it. He was positive you hadn't contracted any disease. Gilen had made sure of that. Maybe you still weren't feeling well from the drug administered to you by Gilen. That was always a possibility, right? No matter your ailment, he wasn't concerned enough to openly show it. Luciano quickly cleared his thoughts and replaced his developing frown with a smile, a smile that he hoped would make him appear more likable.

        "I am honored to have the privilege of meeting the bella ragazza I've heard so much about," he spoke, continuing to hold your hand gingerly. "I must say that you're even more beautiful in person. Words truly do you no justice."

        "Thank you... Your Highness."

        "You seem uncomfortable."

        "Well no shit I'm uncomfortable. Great deduction skills, Watson."

        His frown returned full force. "Your sarcasm is unbecoming of you..."

        "You're not the first person to tell me that, and you most certainly will not be the last."

        So much for being taught better than most. You threw being courteous and kind out the window, hoping that your "lack" of manners would make the prince rethink taking you as his bride. Silence filled the throne room as you inspected the prince's face, attempting to get a read on him. Your eyes locked, and it was then that you realized just how much of an extraordinary shade of magenta they were. They were beautifully mysterious, but you wouldn't let that distract you from repeating your checklist mentally: Appear courtly at first, become less appealing through sass and witty remarks, then head home to live out the rest of your days in peace.

        "So that's your plan," Luciano spoke, hand falling from yours.

        "Pardon me?" you questioned.

        "Your plan to return home. You're constantly repeating it. It's hard not to pick up on."

        "Don't read my mind, you edge lord!"

        His hands settled on your hips faster than you could react, pulling you closer. Your hands flew to his chest, signaling that he had you close enough. His chest was firm, even through his clothing. You couldn't help but let your thoughts run off track as they got lost in fantasies of what he would look like without his attire. The scent of his cologne, soft yet ever present, did nothing to help your momentarily lust riddled mind as he pulled you closer. The feeling of his icy breath by your ear alerted you to your greater proximity, bodies flush together as your body heat swapped with his cooler temperatures.

        "An edge lord I may be, but your thoughts are far too enticing to ignore," he whispered. "By all means, mio tesoro, continue with your daydreams.Your sudden change of interest has me intrigued."

        "I told you to not read my thoughts!" you yelled.

        A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Too late."

~Author's Note~

DreamsForDays here! I wanted to have this chapter out last weekend, but some unexpected plans popped up last minute. But here is the third chapter finally! I have implemented Flavio and Luciano's grandparents and parents in the form of paintings, but they'll appear again from time to time in other forms. Thanks for reading! Feedback in the comments is always appreciated! Until next time!