The Mad Hatter Vampire Prince
“How in God’s name did I get raked into this boredom?” I snarled displeased. I sat on the oversized throne raking my pointed nails against its armchair. The marble room was bright with white tiles and polished as it always had been. The gold trimmings sparkled against the bold glass chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. I uncomfortably sat from side to side on the cushions that were far too used to my brother’s mold instead.
“For the eighth time that I’m explaining it yet again; your brother had other affairs to attend to and as first prince, it is your responsibility to step in and listen to the people from time to time,” Galador said in his dry and whimsical voice. I flopped myself back dramatically huffing, annoyed that I had somehow agreed. I looked up at the old vampire who looked no older than mid-thirties. He dressed like an outdated housewife with a spark of boring ass butler. I grumbled to myself. How had my company fallen so low? I could be entertaining myself in splendor, instead I was amusing this old bore. I twisted to look at him at a better angle.
“I wonder, Galador,” I said, now having slight interest in him. “Did you change your hair recently?” Galador’s blue eyes slowly and begrudgingly diverted from the large wooden doors at the end of the exaggerated and lengthy room and fell upon me. He had been serving my family, more specifically my father, and then brother, for hundreds of years. My brother had now been in ruling for seventy-five years. He stuck to the traditions and old ways of my father, which I found utterly primitive. In retrospect, I stayed away from the throne as much as possible because it seemed painfully boring. You had to ask for permission before killing anyone. We were vampires for fuck’s sake! We should be able to fuck, kill, and trick whomever we wanted without thinking of the political maneuver behind it. If being on the top of the food chain and ruling over humans were results of this, I wish we just ate every last one. At least the only temptation of fun was the whisper of war amongst our own kind. It offered me hope because there were a few stray rebels and Kings who knew how to have some fun in this boring world.
Galador slid his hand over his sleek blonde hair that was never a strand out of place. “No, your majesty, I have not.” No shit. Because you don’t change ever. None of us do. “Now please focus, your first attendee is about to enter.” I grumbled in response as with perfect timing, the large wooden doors at the end of the room opened wide. I stared past the man that strode in. Beyond his broken posture, the world outside this room was bright and glimmered of freedom. I could be out there, minding my own business and crafting my own entertainment.
We couldn’t stand or persevere through natural sunlight. One of the downfalls of being a creature of the night. But with technological advances our throne and city had been one of few that crafted a dome over our Kingdom. We were able to produce artificial day and night that we could walk amongst without combusting and lumping into a decaying mass. We were no longer simply creatures of the night that could only stalk during the night but advanced to something more, something–
“Dear God, kill him! That attire is atrocious!” I screamed at the man that was walking towards me. Immediately he looked panicked. “Guards!” I shouted. They began to move from the sides of the walls on my demand. The overfed man became defensive. How boring, why did they always plea for their life? How I prayed for the day that a human would be less predictable and a little more exciting, if only slightly.
“Kyran!” Galador reprimanded me. “You’re in the throne room. You can’t so quickly choose to a kill a man because of what he is wearing.”
“People have been killed for less crimes in the past,” I said looking over my shoulder at him. The man was an eyesore. Galador was not impressed. I sighed. It would be so much more entertaining to see the fat man shake in his boots and possibly shit himself. But oh no, Galador was more censored to this leadership business than I was. I sighed again, not because my body needed breath but because I enjoyed its dramatic response. I was disappointed that he really wasn’t going to let me have any fun during this torturous hour. I wavered my hand at the guards who proceeded to step back. Fine. Let the man live.
“Tha- Thank you, your majesty. I wasn’t aware that it would be Prince Kyran I would be speaking with today,” He stumbled over his words, still trying to regain his shallow breath. Icky human.
“If you had, would you have brought me a gift in hopes that I would say yes to whatever your overbearing request is?” I threw my legs over the armchair of the throne slumping in it trying to discover any comfortable angle on this tarnished chair. This was already taking far too long.
The man offered a timid smile and crumpled his paperwork slightly. Fuck, was he going to give me a presentation?
“Perhaps, so that I don’t inconvenience you. I will come back next month to speak with King Amell?” The man tattered.
I clasped my hands in joy, the man jumped–frightened. One of my favorite expressions to see. “I think that would work out perfectly, have a nice day!” Without a second of delay the man walked back through the doors with a speed he didn’t come in on.
“Kyran,” Galador grumbled. “The point of this is so you can aid your brother, not to create a backlog of attendees next month for him.”
“You’re right… Should I just kill him?” With Galador’s disapproving glare I knew the answer was no. “Such a buzzkill Galador, when was the last time you had fun?”
“Bring in the next one!” he shouted to permit the next to come through. I sighed, waiting for the young vampire to take his stride, he seemed far too confident. The little shit irritated me with his cocked swagger.
“I’m a huge fan,” the vampire said with a smile, his little fangs gleaming with mischief. I smiled back, the impression not reaching my eyes.
“I’m quite the fan of myself as well,” I said looking at my sharpened nails.
“I suppose that’s something we will agree on today,” he agreed with a snake’s smile. Surprising; he hadn’t lost his spirit. He began to babble on about needing more currency for his company’s upcoming project. They needed support from the throne so they could hire more laborers. I looked between him and then Galador, entirely bored. How my brother sat through this, seriously baffled me.
“So, in short,” I cut him off after hearing enough. “You want funds so you can speed up the building process. You’ve come to me with a proposal but what I’m understanding is that you want fancier shit and material for your design and projecting that it’s all in the interest and benefit to your King. None of what you’re telling me actually insinuates it’s going to be built faster or that it will be beneficial to me.”
“To the Kingdom,” Galador corrected.
“Yeah, the Kingdom,” I said wavering him off. I could feel the effective eyeroll behind me. “So, son, my word of advice is to work harder and stop holding out your hand for free shit. I’ve been advised that I can’t kill anyone today, but can I chop off his hand?” I swiveled to ask Galador seriously. “Maybe just a few fingers?”
“Your proposal is rejected. You may leave,” Galador said to the young vampire. I grumbled and slapped my face into my propped hand.