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The boy would look up at Dracul with very little malice in his eyes. For once, he had a purity about him that someone who had yet to see the true form of corruption held. Celio was young, but Dracul was right. He wasn't dumb. This definitely made him different from the others who ruled before him. There had never been a boy born into a gypsy caravan, sold as a slave and found working for a scholar that has become king.
"The coronation is tomorrow. We'll be having a lot of fun." The boy offered a wink. "I want to see what you can do. Show me what you've got. Maybe I can share a trick of my own."
Celio left offering Dracul another flirtatious wink.
The next day was full of boring ceremonies and speeches full of stumbling words. By the time night fell, Celio was making his way to Dracul's chamber. He knocked on the door once, then slipped into the room as though he was trying not to be noticed. The adviser was after him once more, wanting him to try on new clothing.
"Good evening." Celio greeted Dracul quietly. "Let's see if you can earn the privilege to have your name spoken from my lips."
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