5 Poor Manners

Her mother said fiancée. 

Marci walked to her spot at the table, across from Dutchess Marciella the first. Her mother set her wine glass down and placed her hand on the table.

The Duke sat next to his wife, instead of at the head table. When a Vampire Lord visited the estate, the seat at the end of the table was reserved for him.

It happened when Lord Nicholas visited, and it would be the same for this one.

What better way to humilIate a mortal than to take his throne in his house? 

Marcie stiffened when the Lord sat down. She could feel his penetrating gaze on her face, and she cleared her throat when she flushed red.

Surely mother didn't say Fiancée. 

She looked at Duke Marcus and resisted the urge to ask him. 

This was the first time she was meeting him, if anyone would be a suspect of becoming her fiancée it would be Lord Nicholas. He was the Lord who visited somewhat often. 

"Marci, this is Lord Reign Valentine of the Northern lands. He's a friend of Lord Nicholas." Duke Marcus cleared his throat and introduced him. His voice was scratchy and hoarse, most likely from nearly having his pipes crushed. "Lord Reign, this is my daughter, Lady Marciella the Second." 

But was he her Fiancée? 

The question was on the tip of her tongue.

"Pleasure to meet you, My Lord." Marci bowed her head to him, keeping her gaze down. 

"I was beginning to wonder if you had any manners." Lord Reign said. He leaned back in the chair and tapped a finger on the table. 

Marci tensed in her seat, breath catching in her throat. Her eyes darted to his hand, the same hand that held her father off the floor by his neck. She noticed the silver rings on his long fingers, and shuddered. She couldn't make him mad.

"It's common courtesy to bow to a Lord the moment you see him." Lord Reign continued. "Your father needed an extra lesson for that."

Tearing her eyes away from the prominent veins on his hands, Marci gaped at him. 

"You must excuse her, my Lord," Dutchess Marciella the First, smiled with red painted lips. She took a sip of her wine when he looked her way, happy to have his attention. "It must be because she's just woken up that her brain is slow to process this morning." 

"I don't remember speaking to you." Lord Reign narrowed his red eyes to her. The finger tapping the table picked up a faster beat. 

Marci cleared her throat, casting a glance in her mothers direction. 

She bit her lip, no doubt trying to hold in the snarky comment that would get her killed. 

Satisfied that the Duchess was no longer speaking, he returned his gaze to Marci. 

"I apologize, My Lord -" She began.

"Address me as Lord Reign." He said, interrupting her words. 

Marci glanced at her father once more and bit her lip.

"I apologize, Lord Reign," She started over. Her eyes trailed to his hands once more. His fingers hold the edge of the table in a tight grip, no longer tapping.

His temper was getting worse, that wasn't good. If she made him angry, her father would get upset with her. Or worse, the vampire would kill them all.

"To defend my case, I was not prepared to see what I did when I walked in. Please, forgive me, Lord Reign." She bowed her head, hands gripping her dress. 

Lord Reign hummed from deep within his throat, a deep noise that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Yes, I'm sure it isn't common for you to see your Duke and father, hanging by his throat, seconds away from death." His plump lips curled into a deadly smile. Was he relishing in the memory of it?

Marci didn't dare to look up, she could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Well, let's eat, shall we?" Lord Reign gestured towards the full table. "I hope your chefs can cook." 

Lord Marcus gulped, the sound loud enough for everyone to hear. 

"You're much prettier in person, Marciella. The picture I saw is only subpar." Lord Reign said as a servant loaded his plate for him. 

His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she hoped the goosebumps along her arms went unnoticed.

Duke Marcus coughed, grabbing a napkin and spitting into it.

Lord Reign saw a picture of her? Marci looked at her father, then at her mother. 

Dutchess Marciella shifts in her chair, no doubt wanting to correct him by saying Marci is the Second. However her lips remain shut, only a woman with a death wish will speak up.

"Thank you, my Lord." Marci says, and she cringes when her voice comes out unsteady. 

'If a Vampire Lord compliments you, always say thank you. Or else they'll ruin whatever makes you pretty.' That's what her mother told her.

Marci can't question how Lord Reign saw a picture of her, or how he got his hands on it, or why. All she can do is sit, and look pretty. 

Though her curiosity still lingers like a tiny splinter.

Marci glances at her father and notices his gaze is casted downwards at his plate. She'll ask him about it after Lord Reign leaves. 

Who else but her father would give it to him, and Marci can't blame him. It was to either obey or surrender his life. And Duke Marcus would never surrender his life. 

Lord Reign hums, a small smile gracing his lips. His sharp fangs peak out, a reminder that humans like her father are only pawns. 

"And well behaved after recognizing a mistake. Why is your daughter better with manners than you are, Marcus?" Lord Reign asks. He turns away from Marci, and his red eyes land on her father. They narrow, and the smile on his face turns cruel.

"My wife, Dutchess Marciella the First, does excellent in teaching her my Lord." Duke Marcus says, hand curling over his napkin. "I will work harder to meet your standards." 

It's a load of horse shit.