It was the late afternoon when Aurélie left with Duke Saint-Clair and Étienne, along with several members of the chateau that acted as their protectors. The companion tried not to cry when she hugged her maid goodbye. Aunt Caroline watched the group leave, after exchanging several words with Duke Saint-Clair. She was going to look after the chateau while they were gone, maintaining the household. 

The sun had begun to set and Aurélie peaked behind the drawn curtains, watching the landscape slowly pass them by. She counted the trees that they passed, thinking back to Amelie’s story the evening before. Before the companion had left the chateau she managed to find Matthieu, requesting that he look after Amelie. The butler chuckled before bowing deeply and nodding after each repeated request for Amelie’s safety and wellbeing. A few hours before her departure she had seen the two conversing quietly while seated in the library. Aurélie had grown quite fond of the maid and the story she had shared, elated that Amelie trusted her. The two of them had packed everything for the trip in a rush until the early morning. Countless bags containing gowns, make-up, books and gifts were carried down the stairs and safely stored away in the carriages that were being pulled along France’s countryside. After Amelie had gone to sleep, Aurélie managed to pack a small bag with her personal letter writing equipment, books and the dagger that Eleanor had given to her before she met Étienne. Aurélie made sure that the dagger stayed in its box, packing it at the very bottom of her bag. She did not want to be confronted as to why she was carrying such a dangerous weapon, yet after the story her maid had told her about Duke Delacroix, she felt bare without it. If the Duke treated his own kind in such a way, there was no knowing how he would treat Aurélie if she stepped out of line while in his company. 

“You have been sighing for the past ten minutes. Is everything alright?” 

Étienne leaned over to Aurélie, distracting her from her thoughts. The companion smiled back at him and nodded, letting the navy curtains go. The cloth fell back over the window, obscuring the landscape behind them. 

“I am fine. Just deep in thought, that is all.” 

Étienne leaned back in his seat and folded his arms, staring ahead of himself. “You have been lost in thought all afternoon. Did something happen?”

Aurélie quickly shook her head, earning a side glance from Étienne as she did. When she glanced back at him she noticed that his foot was tapping against the floorboards of the carriage. His expression was blank, the corner of his mouth occasionally twitching. 

“Are you alright?” It was now Aurelie’s turn to ask Étienne, who merely huffed. 

“Nothing is wrong. Why would you ask?”

“Because the floor is about to break if you continue tapping your foot like that.”

“I’m not tapping my feet.”

“And I am not sighing all the time.”

Étienne looked over to his companion, uncrossing his arms. “Now listen here.”

Aurélie looked at him with a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. When Étienne did not, she chuckled and shook her head. 

“Is it the journey or what is waiting at the end of the journey?”

Étienne sighed, shifting in his seat. “It is both. I am not looking forward to having to spend several nights in different inns and changing between stage coaches and trains. The journey to Transylvania is long and tedious, and what is waiting at the end will be even worse,” he said, leaning against the window. 

“Why is that?”

“Because Duke Delacroix, as you have witnessed, is not exactly the kindest of men. I would have rather you stayed at the chateau, where it is safe.”

Aurelie’s cheeks reddened. “I am sure it will be fine.”

“You do not know the Duke.”

“I have heard stories, so I will be cautious.”

“I imagine Amelie has told you her story then?”

Aurélie looked up at Étienne, surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“She told me just before we left. Marched right into my room and would not stop writing until I promised her that I would watch over you while at the Duke’s castle.”

Aurélie sighed once more. “To be honest with you, my views of the Duke have changed drastically after hearing what he did to her. Am I scared? Yes. I am terrified,” she whispered, looking up at Étienne. His brow was furrowed and he leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth as if to say something, before looking away and leaning back. 

“I will not let that happen. You will either be accompanied by me or one of the people travelling with us,” he said after a while, closing his eyes as the carriage gently rocked back and forth. 

“May I have your word on that?” Aurélie asked, shifting slightly to face Étienne. 

“You have my word, Aurélie. No harm will befall you at the Duke’s castle,” Étienne said, bowing his head. When he looked back up at Aurélie her heart skipped a beat. He looked so earnest and determined after he made his promise. She reached out to his hand and squeezed it, giving him a smile. 

“Thank you.”

Étienne simply nodded, his gaze lingering on his companion for a while as she pulled back the curtain slightly and continued to look outside at the darkening landscape. Night soon fell and the pair remained silent for most of the evening, Aurélie’s hand still in his.

 The journey to Transylvania was indeed long and tedious. There were several hours where everyone was crammed into a stage coach and times when the group could relax in spacious train carriages. As train transportation was still new in several of the countries they traversed through, the group of travellers had to make do with the various modes of transport that existed. The majority of the inns they stayed at where lavish enough, with most of the accomodation run by vampires. Aurélie wondered during their journey if the route they took to Transylvania was different to the routes non-vampires took. Her suspicions were confirmed when she asked Duke Saint-Clair about it. The Duke had smiled and informed her that there were specific routes that connected the three Duke’s estates across Europe, ensuring the fasted possible travel time with the least amount of humans around. 

The places that the travelling group rested at during the day were spacious and luxurious. On some days, exhausted by the long time spent in carriages and on trains, Aurélie found herself falling asleep as soon as her head touched the pillows. On other days, she found comfort in Étienne’s quarters, muffled moans filling the room as they tried to keep their engagements private from the rest of the group. The intimate moments between the pair were scarce while they were travelling, yet Aurélie always found herself walking out of Étienne’s room feeling blissful and with several grazes and red marks to her neck and chest. To her relief, the Duke nor his men made comment about their activities. If they had any knowledge of what was happening beyond closed doors, the Saint-Clair troupe were excellent at masking their insights. 

After several days of travelling, the group had reached the borders of Hungary. Aurélie, Étienne and the Duke were seated comfortable in one of the stagecoaches, gently conversing with each other. The road they travelled along ran through a forest, the pleasant smell of oak trees wafting through the area. The Duke was in the middle of retelling the first time he and his wife had met, when shouting was heard from outside the stagecoach. The coach stopped, jostling everyone inside around. Étienne grunted in pain as Aurélie elbowed him in the thigh, after being thrown to the side. Duke Saint-Clair pulled back the curtains, his amber eyes narrowing as he tried to discern what all the commotion was about. 

“Both of you stay inside, do you understand?” he said sternly, opening the door and stepping outside. From where she was seated, half enveloping Étienne and her hair covering her face, Aurélie noticed the Duke’s fangs growing and his eyes turning a deep shade of black. Étienne gently pushed her off of him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, helping Aurélie gather her skirts. 

“I believe so. What is going on?” 

Étienne peaked behind the curtain. It was pitch black outside, shouting and the sound of muffled footsteps surrounding the coach. Occasionally he could see the flicker of a torch, followed by more yelling. He watched as a dark figure approached the doors of the coach that they were in, followed by a hiss and the sound of fangs tearing into flesh. Étienne flinched back as the figure began screaming, followed by a chorus of screams and hisses surrounding the coach. 

Étienne jumped back as a body hit the door, protectively wrapping his arm around Aurelie’s waist and holding onto the doorknob of the door on the opposite side of the coach. He could smell the blood that began wafting through the air, his eyes widening in horror as he recognised the scent. 

Aurélie had managed to straighten out her dress and hair, one hand held up against Étienne’s chest. She could feel him breathing heavily, sweat beginning to form on his forehead. His grip on her waist was tight, as if to pull her along at any given moment. Aurélie listened to the shouting and grunts of pain echoing through the forest. Her own heart was racing, not fully aware of what was happening outside the coach that they were in. 

After what felt like hours, the screaming stopped and several cheers filled the silence. Étienne threw open the door of the coach, pulling Aurélie with him as he stepped outside. The scent of blood was overwhelming and Aurélie gasped as she saw the bodies that surrounded the coach they were in. Men dressed in black robes were strewn across the forest ground, blood seeping from their necks. The men from the Saint-Clair chateau stood over the bodies, their clothes soaked in blood. Each flashed their claws before thrusting their hands into the assailants’ chests, ripping out their hearts. Aurélie stumbled back, colour draining from her face as nausea washed over her. Étienne maintained his firm grip on her waist while looking around, the familiar smell of his father’s blood still lingering. He stepped around the coach, pulling Aurélie with him, his heart dropping as he saw his father lying on the ground, a silver dagger in his chest. 

“Père!” Étienne shouted out, letting go of Aurélie and rushing to the Duke. He dropped to his knees, his hands shaking as he pulled away his father’s cloak. 

Aurélie placed both hands over her mouth, shaking her head slowly from side to side. Several of the men that followed them were now rushing to Étienne’s side, dropping down next to him. She watched as Étienne began losing his composure, shouting at the men in incoherent sentences. The men tried pulling him away from the Duke but Étienne remained by his father’s side. As Aurélie moved closer she heard Duke Saint-Clair gasp for air. Immediately Étienne stopped yelling, his eyes focused on his father. 

“Instead of shouting can you pull this dagger out?” the Duke commanded, his voice stern. 

Étienne stuttered and nodded, fumbling around the hilt of the dagger before pulling it out in one swift motion. The Duke coughed and groaned, clutching where the blade had pierced him. Aurélie watched in surprise at how quickly the wound began to close, the flow of blood ceasing immediately. After a while the Duke sat up, inspecting his wound. He looked up at Étienne who was frozen, his eyes glued onto the dagger. 

“Étienne, I am alright.”

Étienne looked from the dagger to his father, standing up slowly. He ran his hands through his hair repeatedly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Without a word he turned and began running towards the trees that lined the road that they were travelling on, disappearing among the tree trunks and leaves. 

“Étienne!” Duke Saint-Clair weakly called out after him, his hand reaching towards him. “Aurélie, go after him! I am alright, the dagger missed my heart!” he commanded to the companion. 

Aurélie quickly nodded, her head spinning. She picked up her skirts and began to run after Étienne, hoping that she was going in the right direction. It was pitch black in the forest, the light from the torches that surrounded the coach soon fading. She called out after Étienne, wincing as thin branches broke across her face. Slowing down her pace, Aurélie decided to stop and look around, trying to discern where he had run off to. As she began walking, noting any signs of trampled grass or leaves, she faintly heard the sound of someone breathing heavily. Following the sound Aurélie soon found Étienne sitting down, leaning against a tree trunk with his head down. 

“Étienne?” she softly said, making her way towards him. He looked up at her, his chest still heaving. 

“I should not have stayed inside. I should have helped!” he began saying, over and over again. 

“It is alright. Your father is alright,” Aurélie said gently, stepping over a stone as she kneeled down next to Étienne. 

“That does not matter! Instead of fighting and protecting him and you, I stayed like a coward!”

“You did as you were told.”

“Just like last time, I did nothing!”

Aurélie looked at him, confused. She slowly reached out towards him and placed her hand over his shoulder. “Your father is safe and so am I. The dagger missed his heart.”

Étienne looked down, still breathing heavily. Aurélie began moving her hand up and down his back in an effort to calm him down. 

“I do not want him to go. Not so soon after mère.” Étienne’s voice choked up. “I am not ready to take over his duties.”

Aurélie sighed, sitting down next to him, wrapping her arms around his chest. When he did not protest she pulled him closer, her chin resting on his shoulder. “You do not have to take over his duties just yet, Étienne. Everything is alright.” 

Aurélie felt him bury his head in her shoulder, his body shaking. She continued to rub his back, one hand resting against the back of his head. 

“Seeing père lying on the ground with a dagger in his chest reminded me too much of when I found mère. I do not ever want to relive that moment again,” Étienne mumbled into Aurelie’s shoulder after a while, pulling back from his companion. His eyes were slightly red and he quickly turned away, wiping his eyes. 

Aurelie’s eyes widened. “You were the one that found your mother?”

Étienne nodded after a while. “It was sometime around this time last year. Ironic, really.” He managed to chuckle, wiping his nose. He looked at his companion, giving her a sad smile. “I apologise that you had to chase after me. Are you hurt?”

Aurélie shook her head, quickly wiping her face and wincing at the small cuts the branches had left behind. “I will be fine.”

Étienne lifted his hand towards her face, his fingers hovering above her cheek for a few moments before dropping his hand. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, after a while. 

Aurélie shook her head. “You do not need to thank me. Are you alright?”

Étienne nodded, his breathing finally back to normal. 

“Did you want to return to your father?” Aurélie asked, her hand finding his. She gently gave it a squeeze, reassuring him. 

“It is best if we do.”

The pair began making their way back to the path. Étienne held Aurelie’s hand tightly as he began leading her out of the dark forest. Both breathed a sigh of relief when they saw Duke Saint-Clair kneeling down one of the many black-robed bodies, conversing with the men that travelled with them. 

As they approached him the Duke stood up, stepping forward toward Étienne. In one swift motion he embraced his son, patting him on the back a few times before letting go. “You did well to follow my orders. Are you both alright?” 

Aurélie and Étienne nodded. 

“Who are these men?” Étienne asked, looking around. The ground beneath them was seeped in blood. 

“Vampires.”

Étienne’s eyes opened in surprise and he looked down at one of the cloaked men closest to them. Leaning down he pulled back the lips, revealing sharp fangs. 

“Why did they attack us?” 

The Duke shrugged his shoulders, squatting down next to his son. “If all of them were not wearing the same cloaks I would have passed it off as a starving group of vampires. Unfortunately that is out of the question here.” 

“Do you recognise any of them?”

Duke Saint-Clair shook his head. “They appear to be from this region, based on their smell. Maybe they are part of the rebels that Trevor spoke of,” he mumbled.

“Rebels?” Étienne and Aurélie both said. The pair looked at each other before turning their attention back to the Duke. 

“Duke Linnington mentioned that there have been rebel groups gathering and attacking small settlements in London. When I asked Duke Delacroix about the situation here informed me that he was unaware of such a thing happening here. He will not be pleased finding out several of his subjects went rogue,” Duke Saint-Clair said, shaking his head as he stood back up. “We will have to bury the bodies and make haste to the castle. Are you sure you are alright? You look very pale, Aurélie.”

Aurélie nodded, forcing a smile. She felt nauseous seeing all the blood and torn flesh surrounding them. Étienne told his father that he would look after her in the coach, quickly guiding her back inside. Once seated she took a few deep breaths, fanning herself. Étienne stayed by her side, a worried expression on his face. 

They hadn’t even arrived at Duke Delacroix’s castle yet and things were already going wrong.