I might’ve stumbled back for shock, but Carmilla held me gently enthralled. “You are perfect, my darling. You’re perfect, and you are mine. I could never think less of you.” She thought the world of me, and I felt like a wolf romancing a lamb. “You hardly know me.” “I told you—we met thirteen years ago. That nearly makes me your oldest friend.” Carmilla’s blush blossomed in tandem with the light fading from the window. Drenched in darkness, she whispered, “Not a silly country girl—a princess in a tower.”
