I sit upon my velvet stool at my vanity, painstakingly applying my favourite red lipstick. I relish the sight of my curves and perfectly-styled hair in the mirror. I am truly a sight to behold, beyond the mortals and three other Lords of this village. Next to my hand stands a tall glass of fresh, warm blood.

There is a light knocking on my chamber door. I sit back and return my lipstick to its tube, pressing my lips to a clean handkerchief to blot the red stain.

“You may enter,” I say without turning. My voice is smooth, measured. Calm.