You called out to me; I heard you.
You spoke to me and I wrote,
My heart ached with your longing,
And we breathed as one.
When you cried, I felt your pain.
When you laughed, I felt your joy.
We completed this journey as one.
Daughter, I love you,
Just as if you were mine.
But instead, you are whole now,
And you no longer need me—
Be free, my child.
Be free.
Princess Dracula © 2017 by John Patrick Kennedy
Special thanks to Kindle Press for this amazing opportunity.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2017
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Cover art by Carlos Quevedo.
Interior layout and design by Colleen Sheehan of Write Dream Repeat Book Design
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First Edition
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Table of Contents
For Ruxandra Dracula
Copyright
Title Page
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Thank you for reading!
What is this world that is hastening me toward I know not what, viewing me with contempt?
— Khalil Gibran
January 1476
Our Lady of the Mountains Convent, near Bucharest
Tomorrow I will be eighteen.
Princess Ruxandra Dracula knelt in front of the cross in her initiate’s cell. This was the last night she would spend in the small, plain, whitewashed room. The cold of the stones bit at her knees through her thick woolen skirt and cloak. Winter had enveloped the convent, and the cold had wrapped itself around all the buildings, leaving the nuns and initiates huddling together for warmth. With the window and shutters closed tight and the candle lit, the freezing air from outside still crept in, turning Ruxandra’s breath into fog as she tried to call her mind to order. She wanted nothing more than to be in her bed. Her bed warmer—a heated, towel-wrapped brick—was already spreading its warmth beneath the thick woolen blankets.
She shivered, then shook her head and closed her eyes. She had to pray before bed. It was her duty to pray.
Only, after tomorrow, it wouldn’t be her duty anymore.
Her father, Lord Vlad Dracula, the prince—or voivode—of Wallachia was coming for her on her eighteenth birthday. He had sent word two months before.
Assuming he still lives.
He had been at war most of her life. Stories of victories and losses, of barbaric cruelty enacted on both side, reached the convent on the mouths of merchants and townspeople. Most often, she heard of how nobly her father fought the war. But other times, less savory stories came. One which told of an entire town of men, women and children impaled by her father to stop the turks advance, gave her nightmares for weeks.
But according to the mother superior, he was coming tomorrow, and would take Ruxandra away to assume her rightful place at court.
But what is my rightful place? Will it be in his court? Or does he have someone he wants me to marry?
Perhaps she would be married to someone not too much older. Someone handsome and kind. Was there anyone like that among the aristocrats her father would choose from?
And perhaps her husband would allow her some freedom. She wouldn’t be completely free, of course. That was impossible. But she had grown tired of the convent’s rules. They made her wear a wimple to cover her long red hair, tied down so no one would see her breasts, and covered her head to foot. It was uncomfortable and Ruxandra would be glad to be done with it.
The bells rang. Ruxandra finished her prayers and rose. She blew out the candle, then climbed into the bed. The blankets brought warmth to her chilled flesh. She pulled them over her head, letting the heat embrace her entire body.
She was almost asleep when her door clicked open and two giggling, whispering shadows stepped in.
“Quick! Get inside,” one girl hissed.
“I am,” the other whispered.
“Shhh!”
Ruxandra pulled the blanket down just far enough to see the two girls shut the door behind them, stuff something under it to block any light, and throw a blanket over the shutters. A flint sparked one, twice, and a taper flared to life, lighting the faces of her friends.
Adela was a short blonde whose breasts pushed against her nightdress and were the despair of the nuns’ attempts to instill modesty. Her parents had sent her to the convent in desperate hopes to keep her from scandal. And between her sweet, round face and her ability to lie shamelessly, she almost managed to make the nuns believe they were being successful. Valeria was slim and dark, a mischief-maker whose pranks had gotten her in trouble more than once.
They were both her lovers.
Adela called it practice for when they had husbands. Valeria called it wonderful. The nuns declared it a sin in no uncertain terms. And while Ruxandra did her best to obey the nuns in most matters, and to turn her thoughts to God and do his good work, she could not stop loving the girls. From the moment she’d first held Adela’s hand, she’d known that, whatever else their feelings were for each other, they were too sweet to be sinful.
“What are you doing here?” Ruxandra whispered. “You’ll get caught!”
“We had to come.” Adela turned and applied the taper to the candle before it could burn her hand. “You’re leaving tomorrow. We had to wish you happy birthday and say good-bye. You know the sisters wouldn’t let us do that in the morning, so we’re doing it now!”
“We brought treats.” Valeria held up a small sack. “Raisin buns from the kitchen.”
“And we brought extra blankets!” Adela threw them at Ruxandra. “So make room!”
The two girls piled onto the bed, almost crushing Ruxandra. They squeezed together, sitting side by side with their backs to the wall. Adela wrapped the extra blankets around their shoulders to ward off the cold of the stone behind them. Valeria rearranged Ruxandra’s blankets, and the three let their legs tangle tight together. Valeria handed Ruxandra a small raisin bun. Ruxandra bit into it, savoring the sweet, rich taste of butter and herbs and juicy raisins. It was divine.
“I am so glad you’re here,” Ruxandra said around her bite of bun. “I was worried I wouldn’t see you before I left.”
“We would never allow that to happen.” Adela kissed Ruxandra’s cheek, letting her lips linger. “We’re going to miss you, you know.”
“Very much,” said Valeria, putting her hand on Ruxandra’s thigh.
A thrill ran up and down Ruxandra’s spine.
“Plus we didn’t want to neglect your education.” Adela pulled out a small boo
k with a plain, unmarked cover. “So we brought this.”
Ruxandra peered at it. “What is it?”
“A gift from my fiancé.” Adela grinned and opened the book.
Ruxandra’s eyes went wide, and her cheeks flushed bright red. She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oh my. Oh my God!”
The page showed a woman on her hands and knees, gazing over her shoulder at the man whose enormous penis was shoved deep into her sex. The opposite page showed a man on his back, the woman squatting over the top of an equally large penis, hand on the tip, ready to guide it inside her.
“I think he drew it himself,” Adela said.
“They aren’t that big,” Valeria said.
“Horses aren’t that big.” Then Ruxandra’s eyes grew wide. “Wait. How do you know?”
Valeria flushed. “Marin.”
“Who delivers the vegetables? When? You never said!”
“Last week, after I helped him unload. He took me in the wagon.” She pointed at the girl on her hands and knees. “That’s how he started, but that’s not where he finished.”
“What?” Ruxandra’s flush rose higher. “What do you mean?”
“Perhaps this?” Adela asked, turning the pages until she reached one with a woman on her knees, the man’s sex in her mouth. Ruxandra’s mouth fell open in shock. Adela turned some more pages. “Or this?”
The woman in the picture was bent over a barrel. The man stood behind her, his groin pressed against her backside.
“That,” Valeria said. “I felt it for three days.”
“At least you know you won’t get pregnant.” Adela poked Ruxandra’s arm. “You should have done it with a man before you left, you know.”
“I’m a princess. I must keep my virginity for my husband, unlike you little merchant girls.” She wrapped her arms around both and squeezed them tight. “Besides, I like what we do together.”
“So do I, but a girl needs variety.” Adela turned the pages again. She landed on a picture of two women touching each other’s bodies, their mouths wide and their tongues intertwined.
Valeria smiled at it and ran her hand higher up Ruxandra’s thigh. “Now that looks familiar.”
“Doesn’t it though?” Adela cupped one of Ruxandra’s breasts. “You didn’t think we’d let you get away without saying a proper good-bye, did you?”
“Oh,” Ruxandra gasped.
“Try to be quiet.” Valeria turned the page. A woman lay on her back with her legs apart; a second woman knelt between her thighs, tongue on the other’s sex. “Because I am going to try that on you.”
Oh, God. Ruxandra felt heat rising in her belly as they took off her nightdress.
She barely managed to keep her gasps silent as their hands caressed her and they took turns kissing her mouth and neck and breasts. When Valeria knelt between her legs, Ruxandra grabbed Adela’s hand and put it over her mouth to muffle her cries of passion.
The door slammed open.
“Filth!”
Sister Sofia, a candle in her hand and her eyes wide and blazing, glared at the three naked girls. “You dare profane the Lord’s house with this obscenity! Shame! Shame on all three of you!”
“Please, Sister.” Ruxandra sat up. She was the one leaving. If she could take the blame . . . “It was my fault. I seduced them. They were coming in to celebrate my birthday, and I—”
“Do you think me stupid?” Sister Sofia’s harsh voice cracked like a whip. “I have seen the way you three look at one another, have watched you steal away from your chores to engage in your carnal pleasures.”
“And you never joined us?” Adela rose, her large breasts jutting out toward the nun like a dare. “You should have.”
Sister Sofia’s slap cracked against Adela’s face, knocking her over. The nun strode forward and grabbed the girl’s hair, pulling her off the bed. “Be silent, you harlot! Ruxandra’s final night at the convent should be a time of reflection and prayer. And by God, I will see that it is!
“You will all come with me now. And since you chose to be harlots, you can leave your clothing behind and show everyone your shame.”
She forced Adela down into a half-crawl and dragged her from the room. Ruxandra and Valeria, naked and shivering, followed them down the hallway of the novice’s building. Two other nuns stood by the outside door, disapproval clear on their faces.
Sister Sofia pointed at Valeria. “Open it. Now.”
Valeria swallowed hard but did as she was told. A blast of wind blew snow into the building, driving pins of cold into their skin.
Sister Sofia dragged Adela into the freezing night. “Follow!”
The snow-covered stones burned Ruxandra’s feet as she walked. The air sent chills through her naked body and numbed her skin. Her nipples were so hard they hurt. She thanked God for the high walls around the convent that kept the worst of the wind from them. Even so, it was horrible. Beside her, Valeria looked no less miserable.
Sister Sofia strode onward, ignoring Adela’s swearing and cries of pain. She led them to the small penance chapel where those who had sinned prayed for forgiveness. Sister Sofia stopped in front of it and threw Adela to the ground. The girl whimpered.
“On your knees, slattern. Facing the chapel. You too, Valeria. Arms out.”
Adela rose to her knees, extending her shivering arms like a martyr ready for crucifixion. Valeria knelt beside her. Sister Sofia grabbed Ruxandra’s arm, marched her in front of them, and turned to face them. “Kneel. Arms out.”
Ruxandra did. The other two nuns had followed and now took up positions behind her two shivering friends. As one of the nuns raised a pair of long straps, Ruxandra closed her eyes.
“I cannot punish you, Princess,” Sister Sofia said, disgust dripping from the last word. “Not with your father coming tomorrow. But by God, I will punish your friends, and you will witness what your sins have wrought.”
“Please, Sister,” Ruxandra begged. “Please don’t—”
Sister Sofia grabbed Ruxandra’s hair and twisted it, making her cry out. “Begin the Prayer of Repentance. Now.”
Tears burned in Ruxandra’s eyes. She blinked them away. She wouldn’t cry. Not with her friends about to be beaten. Instead, she forced a deep, steadying breath and then began reciting. “O Lord, my God, I confess that I have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed.”
The two nuns swung their straps, and the thick leather bit into the freezing flesh of Adela and Valeria’s backs. Both girls screamed and convulsed.
Ruxandra forced her voice to stay steady. “I have also omitted to do what your holy law requires of me.”
The straps swung again, and red droplets spattered against the snow beside Adela.
“But now with repentance and contrition, I turn again to your love and mercy.”
Again more blood. More screams.
“I entreat you to forgive me all my transgressions and to cleanse me of all my sins.”
The nuns swung the straps again.
“Lord, fill my heart with the light of your truth. Strengthen my will by your grace.”
“Enough!” The mother superior’s voice rang through the yard. She strode across the yard—a small, wizened woman who radiated power and strength. She pointed a finger at the two nuns with the straps. “You, get those girls to the infirmary at once.”
“Mother.” Sister Sofia stepped forward, her voice shrill. “These girls—”
“Are my responsibility.” Mother Superior’s tone brooked no argument, and she gave Sister Sofia a hard stare. “Go into the chapel. Pray for what you have done, and know that I will see you in the morning to discuss this matter at length. Princess, come with me.”
Ruxandra pushed herself up, her knees frigid and aching from the freezing stones. She watched Adela and Valeria being dragged across the yard by the nuns. Neither looked at her. Ruxandra bit her lip and followed the mother superior into the chapter house. The warm air surrounded Ruxandra the moment she s
tepped in, making her freezing skin burn. A nun stood in the doorway, waiting.
Mother Superior nodded at her. “Take the princess to the kitchen. Clean and dress her.”
The kitchen was warmer than the front hall. The nun wrapped Ruxandra in a blanket and made her sit at the table as she stoked the fire, put a large pot of water over it, then brought in a larger tub. Ruxandra pulled the blanket tighter around her body, wishing Adela and Valeria were with her.
The water took a long time to heat, longer still for the nun bathing Ruxandra to be satisfied with her appearance. By the time she was clean and dressed once more in the robes of an initiate, the bells for Orthros—morning prayers—rang out. The nun inspected Ruxandra once more, then led her to Mother Superior’s office.
The mother surveyed her, nodded, and dismissed the other nun. “Your father will be coming for you soon.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ruxandra swallowed. “Please, Adela and Valeria—”
“Will spend the next two weeks eating a slice of bread a day and drinking only water. They will spend their time on their knees in the chapel in prayer, to think better on what has happened. You will not see them before you leave.”
The mother superior rose from her seat. She was shorter than Ruxandra but had a presence that made the princess feel small. “You are a child of the voivode. You have a duty—to your father, to your husband-to-be, to the people over whose lives you will rule—to be better. You must serve as a guide and inspiration and lead by example. When the nobility fails to judge the cost of their actions, people suffer. When you, Ruxandra, fail to judge your actions, others suffer.”
Ruxandra nodded, unable to speak.
“Go to the penance chapel, my child, and pray until your father arrives. Pray that God gives you the strength to be a holy and just woman. Pray that you may help guide your future husband to better himself and the lot of your people. Go now.”
The penance chapel was cold and dark. Ruxandra knelt on the floor, ignoring the bruises on her knees, and prayed, first for her friends to heal and suffer no more at the hands of Sister Sofia. Then she prayed for herself, that she not fall into temptation again and that she serve as a better example to all.