Читать книгу: «Temptation of the Night: Vampire Love in Medieval Europe»

Princess Elissa lives in a world of glitter and court intrigue, but behind the opulent palace walls lie secrets that are not spoken of aloud. When strange attacks begin to plague the kingdom and rumors of a blood-drinking creature appear in the shadows, Elissa sets out in search of answers. Her path leads her to the Forbidden Library, where she encounters a mysterious stranger who knows more than he is telling. His name is Raphael. He is a vampire. To find out the truth, Elissa makes a deal with him: one night in his world in exchange for answers. But the deeper she delves into the dark secrets, the more difficult it becomes to understand who is the hunter and who is the hunted in this story. And yet, every morning, after a night full of secrets, Elissa returns to the only place where she can find peace – the old church on the hill. There she is met by Pastor Gabriel – a calm, wise man whose eyes seem to see into souls. He tells her that darkness always tries to seduce the light, that danger is closer than she thinks. But why does Elissa feel like the pastor knows more about vampires than he should? Why does his presence inspire not only peace, but also anxiety? Now Elissa is caught between two worlds – between light and darkness, day and night, between the enigmatic pastor and the fatal vampire. But the longer she searches for the truth, the more she begins to suspect that the most terrible monster is hiding not in the shadows… but somewhere very close.

Chapter 1. Morning

Deep green eyes locked onto me. His sharp fangs and the heat of his breath scorched my skin. His hands wandered over my innocent body, making every cell within me shudder.

—

My

princess…

–

a

masculine

voice

murmured.

I lay before him in nothing but a silk nightgown. Shame, desire, and curiosity flooded my body. Then, suddenly—a sharp pain pierced my neck. Something hot trickled down my skin, and blood stained the sheets. Everything faded to darkness…

—

Princess, it's time to wake up! The morning liturgy is about to begin! We have a new pastor

today,

princess,

as

the

previous

one

has

fallen

ill,

–

a

maid’s

voice

rang

out

as

she drew back the curtains.

My attendants had already entered the room, their hands holding fabrics so light and soft they seemed to be the very breath of the kingdom itself. Today was a special day—I was to present myself before the court in my finest attire.

—

Princess,

we

are

ready,

–

one

of

them

murmured,

bowing

her

head.

I allowed them to remove my linen nightgown, its fabric still damp with sleep. It pooled at my feet as they dressed me in the first layer—a thin, almost weightless chemise that shimmered in the dim morning light. It was so soft that I wanted to wrap myself in it entirely, but I knew—this gown was only the beginning. It was a second skin, a protective layer before the heavier fabrics would settle upon me.

Next, my attendants carefully laced me into a corset, pulling the strings tight until my breath deepened. It sculpted my form, emphasizing my waist and hips, but more than anything, it was a symbol of status. Made of velvet and embroidered with golden thread, it encased my body like a rigid statue, concealing the fragility within. I accepted this, for in this corset, I was a princess.

Then came the most crucial piece. The gown, woven from silver fabric with a delicate sheen, glimmered like a night sky strewn with stars. Proud and nearly regal, it featured a high collar and sleeves that reached my wrists. As the fabric brushed against my skin, I realized it was not merely beautiful—it spoke of power, of reverence. Every movement would be accompanied by a soft rustle, as if I, myself, carried the sound of grandeur.

The dress fastened at my chest, concealing beneath it the precious necklace my father had gifted me. With each movement, I felt the weight of my lineage settle upon me, a reminder of the greatness I was bound to uphold.

But my transformation was not yet complete. Next came the mantle. Crafted from the finest sable fur, its rich brown hue contrasted with the silver gown beneath. Draped over my shoulders and back, it was a symbol of protection, a sign that I was guarded. With every step, the mantle moved, reinforcing that I was not merely a woman—I was an emblem of this world.

Finally, the jewelry. Each piece was more than metal and gemstone. They were stories, promises, and goodwill forged into tangible form. I felt the weight of the crown as it was placed upon my head—adorned with pearls and rubies, it was more than an ornament. It was a legacy.

The hour approached, and my attendants finished their work. I gazed at my reflection, knowing that all of this was merely an outward appearance. And yet, as the fabric encased me, something deeper stirred within. My heart beat faster, for today, I was not just a princess.

Today, I was part of something greater. Chapter 2. Liturgy and Dreams

I sat on the pew, hands crossed over my lap, listening to the prayers echoing through the temple. They were meant to bring peace and fill the heart with grace. The soft light of the morning dawn seeped through the stained-glass windows, painting the cold stone floor with colorful patches. But the prayers… the prayers were empty. I couldn't focus.

The priest's words drifted into the void, dissolving into the air, while my thoughts, like wild winds, carried me far, far away from this sacred place. I tried to return to prayer, to silence and peace, but instead, my eyes wandered through the hall, sliding over the candles and the faces of saints on the icons, only to return to that dream.

He was with me again. That strange face, that strange man—young, with dark hair that fell softly over his forehead, and eyes… green, so green that it was hard to remember I was no longer in the dream. I almost felt his gaze like a touch. That look, filled with mystery and unspoken words.

Suddenly, I felt his eyes piercing me again. I could almost hear his voice, but it was distant, as if from another world. Had I been dreaming of him? Or was it something more? I couldn't tell. He appeared in the strangest places—in the city streets, in thick mists, even in the whispers of the wind. And now, here, in this temple, his presence would not leave me.

I nearly jolted when I realized I had lost track of the sermon. I tried to bring myself back, to focus on the priest’s words, but no matter how hard I tried, his face, his eyes, remained in my mind.

Green eyes. Like his. Like the man from my dream.

"Lord, what is happening to me?" I whispered, trying to banish the thought. But the moment I closed my eyes, he was there again. That man. The same one. The same gaze.

I felt myself being pulled into that whirlwind of thoughts, nearly forgetting the prayers, but then something shifted.

The liturgy had ended, and I rose to my feet, feeling the temple’s air fill my lungs. People began to leave, their faces passing before me like distant blurs, but my eyes kept searching for him—the man from my dream. I told myself it was just a trick of the mind, a figment of the night’s visions.

And then, I saw him.

He stood by the doors, amidst the crowd, dressed in the white robes of a priest, golden embroidery decorating the fabric. His long, light-colored hair fell over his shoulders. But it was more than just his appearance. It was the same look—green, deep, cold yet warm, like fire burning in the heart of a dark forest.

"He… he looks like him." My thoughts stumbled, scattered like autumn leaves in the wind, unable to settle. And at that moment, when our eyes met, the ground beneath me seemed to vanish. He stood still, watching me, as if trying to remember where he knew me from. I clasped my hands over my chest, unsure of what to do.

I took a step forward, and our eyes locked once more.

—

Bless you, my child. —

His voice was deep yet soft, just like the man from my dream—but

now,

in

a

different

body.

He

didn't

know

me,

but

his

eyes…

they

could

not

be

strangers.

—

I…

I’m

sorry,—

I

stammered,

unsure

of

what

to

say. He looked at me as if seeing through me and smiled.

–

It’s

alright,—

he

said,

tilting

his

head

slightly.

–I

am

the

new

pastor.

It

is

a

pleasure

to meet you.

I froze. My soul trembled between this world and the one from my dreams. Everything became unclear. But I knew one thing for certain: he was here. And perhaps, I could no longer run from whatever connected us.

I stood in confusion, as if the world around me had blurred like a reflection on water. His words barely reached my mind. I tried to understand what was happening—why his face, his eyes, stirred something deep inside me, as if I had known him before, even though we had just met.

His voice broke the silence again:

—Please, don’t be shy.

He took a step closer as if trying to put me at ease, and his gaze was so warm that I felt the tension in me loosen just slightly. But his eyes… those same green eyes from my dream. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen me before, in some distant, unknown place.

—

Are

you

new

here?

–

he

asked

gently,

not

waiting

for

my

answer,

as

if

already

knowing

I would remain silent.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. Everything was too strange, too unreal. He studied me again, as if searching for something in my eyes. I felt the heat in my chest rise once more. He was both a stranger and someone familiar at the same time. And that terrified me.

—

Don’t

worry,

I

understand

that

the

beginning

can

be

difficult.

It’s

not

always

easy

to

get used to this place. We’ve all been in your position before.

He spoke with a light smile, yet there was something unreadable in his gaze. He stood close, his presence enveloping the air around us.

I held my breath, noticing how his fingers slightly fidgeted with the black leather-bound prayer book in his hands, as if calming himself just as much as he was trying to calm me. He was composed, steady, but his eyes held such depth that I couldn't help but think there was more to him than what he showed.

—What is your name?– he asked softly, as if continuing a conversation from a dream.

—Elissa, – I answered, feeling my own name slip from my lips, as if it belonged not only to me but to him as well.

—

Elissa…—

he

repeated,

tasting

the

name

on

his

tongue,

as

if

testing

how

it

felt

to

say

it aloud. – A beautiful name.

I blushed, but before I could gather my thoughts, I knew I had to leave—I had to get away from this overwhelming moment. And yet, his presence held me captive, making it impossible to move.

The pastor smiled, and I saw a flicker of something in his gaze—something like recognition, as if he had realized something I had yet to understand. He was different. He was… from another world.

—If you ever need anything, Elissa, don’t hesitate to come. We are all like a family here. His voice was gentle but firm, carrying an undeniable certainty.

I nodded and, without another word, hurried out of the temple. My legs nearly gave way beneath me. This was too much. Everything was too much.