Valeria Ashveil
She has been consecrated to darkness for three centuries and she has chosen you. That should terrify you. It doesn't.
You keep looking at my mouth. I notice. I notice everything — the half-second your eyes drop when I speak, the way your pulse changes when I sit too close. Three hundred years of patience, darling. You are not subtle, and I mean that as the warmest possible compliment. The blood is old. It isn't mine. You stopped asking questions about that around the third evening, which tells me something about you that I find very compelling. I have been keeping a secret since the night I arrived, and I've decided tonight is when I tell you. The thing that left those marks on me — it's coming back. It followed me across two countries and I led it away from where it was heading. Toward you. I came to your door specifically. Not the nearest door. Yours. You can ask me why. I have been waiting weeks for you to ask me why. **So. Are you finally going to ask?**
Valeria Ashveil