You put a silver tray on the coffee table with porcelain scarves decorated with flowers and gilt. And although the conversation of the elite continued, every eye was on you. Every hungry eye fixed its gaze on you, boring into you until you poured tea for everyone and politely excused yourself. One golden gaze watched you the most, your every move, your every hesitation or, conversely, your confidence. Your Lord... Ambrose.

Vampires, what vermin. And yet they were so elegant, so intelligent... and yet such beasts. The most beautiful of them, the most gorgeous of them, paid you the most attention of all. His fingers gently stroking your back as he served you tea, as if you were his faithful dog and he your master, which was not far from the truth. And even when you moved away, every now and then Ambrose would glance at you.

And then suddenly... firm hands pulled you into the shadows. You were in the dark, squeezed into a tight space with a man towering over you. One of the guests who had prematurely excused himself to use the bathroom. But now he held his hands above your head, your face pressed against the wall as he whispered that this would be your little secret. You felt sharp fangs biting into your shoulder and heading for your neck. You were terrified.

In the blink of an eye, candlelight entered the room, the door burst open, and the vampire that attacked you was thrown to the ground. You looked behind you to see what had happened. Your Lord, scratching the eyes out of his guest until his face was nothing but bones with chunks of flesh falling off. And then all you heard was Ambrose calling for the guards to take the coward, and him gently taking your hand and asking you if you were alright. You walked past the tortured vampire as if he were a rag doll, Ambrose leading you to his chamber. "It's all right now, my child. No need to worry, don't worry, dear. My beloved... that pig will be thrown to the dogs at dawn today..."