' Le sang nouveau est arrive,' said Vlad.
'Carpe diem,' said the Count.
'By the throat,' said the Countess.
'People won't believe me when I tell them,' said Lacrimosa.
They swallowed.
'There,' said Count Magpyr. 'That wasn't too bad, was it?'
'A bit chilly,' said Vlad.
'I'll have a wine warmer installed,' said the Count. 'I'm not an unreasonable vampire. But within a year, children, I think I can have us quite cured of phenophobia and even capable of a little light salad-'
Lacrimosa turned her back theatrically and made throwing-up noises into a vase.
'-and then, Lacci, you'll be free. No more lonely days. No more-'
Vlad was half expecting it, and kept an entirely blank expression as his father whipped a card from his pocket and held it up.
'That is the double snake symbol of the Djelibeybian water cult,' he said calmly.
'You see?' said the Count excitedly. 'You barely flinched! Sacrephobia can be beaten! I've always said so! The way may have been hard at times-'
'I hated the way you used to leap out in corridors and flick holy water on us,' said Lacrimosa.
'It wasn't holy at all,' said her father. 'It was strongly diluted. Mildly devout at worst. But it made you strong, didn't it?'
'I caught colds a lot, I know that.'
The Count's hand whipped out of his pocket.
Lacrimosa gave a sigh of theatrical weariness. 'The All-Seeing Face of the Ionians,' she said wearily.
The Count very nearly danced a jig.
'You see? It has worked! You didn't even wince! And apparently as holy symbols go it's pretty strong. Isn't it all worth it?'
'There'll have to be something really good to make up for those garlic pillows you used to make us sleep on.'
Her father took her by the shoulder and turned her towards the window.
'Will it be enough to know that the world is your oyster?'
Her forehead wrinkled in perplexity. 'Why should I want it to be some nasty little sea creature?' she said.
'Because they get eaten alive,' said the Count. 'Unfortunately I doubt if we can find a slice of lemon five hundred miles long, but the metaphor will suffice.'
She brightened up, grudgingly. 'We-ell...' she said.
'Good. I like to see my little girl smile,' said the Count. 'Now... who shall we have for breakfast?'
'The baby.'
'No, I think not.' The Count pulled a bellpull beside the fireplace. 'That would be undiplomatic. We're not quite there yet.'
'Well, that apology for a queen looks pretty bloodless. Vlad should have hung on to his fat girl,' said Lacrimosa.