His thoughts trailed off as he sank back onto the bed, the fire’s warmth enveloping him like a cocoon. As consciousness slipped away, Jonathan’s last coherent thought was a vague sense of unease.

Count Dracula emerged from the shadows in the corridor outside, unseen by the now-slumbering Jonathan. He placed a hand on the door to the Consort quarters, a look of longing and hunger warring on his face. The taste of the solicitor’s blood tingled his tongue as he gripped the bloodied napkin.

Chapter Nine

Jonathan Harker awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented by his unfamiliar surroundings. Sunlight streamed through the heavy curtains, casting a glow across the opulent bedroom. He found himself still fully clothed, sprawled atop the luxurious bedding. The previous night’s events came rushing back, a jumble of vivid and unsettling memories.

He groggily pushed himself up, noticing that the fire had died down to mere embers. A chill ran through him, prompting him to rise and stretch his stiff muscles. He then made his way to the window and threw open the curtains.

The sight that greeted him took his breath away. The Transylvanian countryside stretched out before him, a tapestry of autumnal colors. Golden leaves clung to ancient trees, theirbranches reaching toward a crisp blue sky. In the distance, snow-capped mountains pierced the horizon, it was such a wild and beautiful land.

“Fall is truly lovely in this part of the world,” Jonathan murmured, drinking in the view.

Turning back to the room, he noticed his luggage placed neatly in the entryway of his quarters. With a sigh, he began to unpack. The clothes he wore were wrinkled from having fallen asleep in them. The thought of a bath became increasingly appealing as he caught sight of himself in an ornate mirror – disheveled and travel-worn.

A knock sounded at the door as if on cue, followed by Vigo’s measured voice. “Mr. Harker? May I come in?”

“Yes, please do,” Jonathan called out, smoothing his hair self-consciously.

Vigo entered, his perpetual smile in place. “I trust you slept well, sir? I came by last night with your dinner, but you were already fast asleep.”

Jonathan felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. “I must apologize. I seem to have underestimated the effects of my journey. I was more exhausted than I realized.”

Vigo waved off the apology. “Think nothing of it, sir. I aim to ensure your utmost comfort during your stay. Speaking of which...”

He gestured, and two other servants entered the room, heading straight for the bathroom. The sound of running water soon came from the bathroom.

Jonathan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How did you know I was planning to bathe?”

Vigo’s smile widened. “As I said, sir, your comfort is our primary concern.”

A thought struck Jonathan: “There’s something rather curious I wanted to ask about. Last night, the fireplace lit up without anyone tending to it. Is there some sort of high-tech wonder at work in this castle? It just looks so old…”

Vigo’s expression remained impassive. “I can assure you, Mr. Harker, that your every wish and whim will be tended to during your stay. There’s no need to concern yourself with the details.”

Jonathan frowned, unsatisfied with the non-answer, but decided to let the matter drop for now. Instead, he changed the subject. “When might I expect to meet with Count Dracula? I am eager to begin our business discussions.”

“Ah,” Vigo said, a note of something indefinable in his voice. “The Count typically rests during daylight hours. He’ll be up and about come nightfall – that’s when you can expect your meeting. In the meantime, please enjoy the castle and its grounds. Now, would you prefer to have your breakfast served here in your rooms or at the dining table?”

“The dining table, I think,” Jonathan replied, needing to explore beyond these quarters, no matter how luxurious they might be.

Vigo bowed. “Very good, sir. Now, if you’ll allow us...”

After filling the bathtub, the other servants approached Jonathan and unbuttoned his shirt. Startled, he stepped back. “I... I can undress myself, thank you.”

Vigo tilted his head, a look of mild surprise on his face. “Are you certain, Mr. Harker? Here, you will be treated like a prince – bathed, dressed, your every need tended to.”

Jonathan swallowed hard, a flush creeping up his neck. “I rather doubt that all of my needs will be attended to,” he muttered, thinking of desires he dared not voice aloud. He added, “But I suppose while I’m here, I should attempt to live as my host insists. Very well.”

With a mixture of embarrassment and resignation, Jonathan allowed the servants to undress him. As he sank into the warm, rose-scented water of the bath, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease at being so exposed. The servants began to wash him with gentle, efficient movements.

“This is... something I’ll have to get used to,” Jonathan said, more to himself than to Vigo. “I wouldn’t want to offend the Count by refusing his hospitality.”

Vigo, who had been observing from a discreet distance, nodded approvingly. “A wise decision, Mr. Harker. The Count will be pleased to see you embracing the customs of his home.”

As the servants continued their ministrations, Jonathan found his mind wandering. What sort of man was Count Dracula to insist on such intimate care for his guests? And why did Jonathan feel simultaneously unnerved and oddly excited by it all?

“Vigo,” Jonathan said suddenly, “tell me more about the Count. What should I expect when we meet?”