Chapter Text
Prompto wasn’t sure vampires could dream. He knows he doesn’t have to sleep, not unless he wants to, and there’s something very indulgent about that. Ignis tells Prompto vampires sometimes sleep for long periods when they’re distraught. It’s a cool off, mental health, kind of thing to help them recuperate. Prompto doesn’t need that. For much of his first year as a vampire he doesn’t want to sleep even for a few moments. There’s too much to do, too many new things to learn, and he wants to spend every waking second with his new coven.
Then, one snowy January afternoon in Washington, Prompto is curled up on the couch. Noctis is watching a superhero movie, thoroughly entranced, but Prompto’s seen it before. Gladio is reading lazily in the library, legs up on the ottoman, and in the indoor pool in the back of the house Ignis is doing laps. Everything is quiet, everything is beautiful, and Prompto feels a kind of contentment he used to dream about as a child. His family are safe, he’s safe, and he’s cuddled up nice and warm watching a movie with one of the people who loves him most.
Falling asleep is sort of an accidental side effect of that whole body gooiness.
Prompto’s not expecting the dream.
He feels more lucid than he remembers being when he used to dream as a human but everything has a backwards, dream-logic, kind of quality even if he has a greater clarity.
He’s in a little cottage, somewhere in a snowy wood, and Prompto coils up with what his brain imagines the first coven might’ve been like. Noctis slings an arm around him, Ardyn is making jokes, Gilgamesh is settled in that stern, quiet, way he always is and there are two other vampires. There’s a pretty blonde woman with a very vague face, Prompto’s brain attempting to form an image of Aera without having ever met her, and Somnus who Prompto’s brain casts as a kind of shadowed Noctis. The same sort of face and hair but with a more shit-eating curl to every feature.
Prompto’s dream starts wholesome enough. The first coven are happy. The whole atmosphere of the cottage, though humble, is not unlike the bone warming goodness that seeps through the coven house in Washington when Prompto’s current family are all happy and accounted for. Noctis is relaxed too and Noctis is Prompto’s metric for everything. If Noctis is happy Prompto probably has nothing in the world to be worried about.
Then Aera says something, a joke or a jab, and its gentle and Prompto only catches about half of it before Somnus hurls a cup at her face. Prompto knows the image. His father used to throw things at his mother when he got surly too. Aera recoils in much the same way, clutching her face, breathless and startled and scared but…
Well, Aera’s got a lot more firepower behind her than Prompto’s mum.
Ardyn lunges across the cottage before Noctis can even react, tackling Somnus into the floor, table upturning, and Ardyn starts laying into his brother’s perfect face with the strength only vampire fists can manage.
“Ardyn--!” Noctis panics, rushing up so fast Prompto falls out of his arms.
Prompto lurches so hard he falls off the couch he’s sleeping on.
Prompto scrambles up into a sitting position, hands grabbing the couch, heart racing.
“Prom?” Noctis pauses the movie. “You alright…?”
Prompto sits there for a second, frazzled, and tries to corral his thoughts. All he can manage to garble out is;
“Vampires can dream?”
Noctis blinks.
Noctis laughs, sliding off the couch and climbing into Prompto’s space. He helps Prompto sit a little straighter and pulls an arm around him. Prompto slumps into his side, coming around slowly, and Noctis continues to snigger while he squeezes the blonde.
“Startled you?” Noctis supposes.
“Yeah,” Prompto murmurs.
“It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?” Noctis settles, nose in Prompto’s hair.
“Sort of,” Prompto frowns. “It was weird. Like vampire drama meets my shitty childhood.”
“Ugh,” Noctis winces. “I’m sorry, Prom. Are you okay…?”
“I’m okay.” Prompto forces a smile up to Noctis. He hates worrying the other vampire. “Just a little rattled.”
“You wanna eat?” Noctis offers. “I always feel better after I’ve ripped some asshole’s jugular out.”
Prompto stews on the notion, running his tongue over his lip in careful consideration. He and Noctis have been playing a fun game lately. Maybe that would make him feel better…?
“Yeah.” Prompto decides. “Let’s go eat.”
“Gladio!” Noctis calls, voice barely raised because vampire hearing. Duh. “We’re gonna borrow the car. Back later.”
“Careful on the roads!” Gladio calls back.
Noctis helps Prompto to his feet and they head into the garage. Black ice is a problem, especially at higher speeds, but Noctis has reflexes better than a race car driver. So long as they don’t go too nuts everything will be fine. Prompto grabs Noctis’ hand and tugs him back to the coat rack so they can rug up. They don’t need it technically but humans find other humans who are under or over dressed subtly suspicious in these sort of weather conditions. It’s a subconscious survival instinct thing. Most humans never clue into what Prompto and the others are but that’s mainly because they don’t give them any reason for suspicion. After all; once the spell is broken its hard to recapture that human-to-human ease their prey afford each other.
Prompto still doesn’t like hunting humans. He has a lot of empathy for them. He’s barely immortal, just a wee baby vampire, and he could very easily have ended up a dead human. He remembers not having options, being desperate, and so Prompto doesn’t like to take advantage of his food like that. Noctis was honest with him when they met, as honest as he could be, and Prompto much prefers that hunting style even if it’s not always practical or even possible.
But there are some hunts Prompto quite likes.
Human tastes way better than bear or buck after all and Prompto has to drink more than anyone else in the coven. If he had to drink deer every two days he’d get so fed up. Humans have a much wider variety of flavors. Particularly because they don’t all eat grass.
So Prompto and Noctis have invented a fun new game.
They park the car somewhere quiet and then they rug up, hand in hand, looking like a couple of dumb sixteen year olds. They then walk through the seedier, nastier, parts of Seattle inviting some poor fucking idiot to jump them with a gun or a knife. Prompto knows its not a perfect system. Some thugs are genuinely desperate too but some part of Prompto finds it easier to eat when his food started as an aggressor. So, yeah, they walk until they get jumped and then they feast.
Someone inevitably jumps them. Sometimes two or three guys. Noctis is always so theatrical about it.
“Give us your wallets!” Tonight’s thug demands.
“Oh no! A gun!” Noctis declares. “Holy shit, Prom, do you see that? He’s got a gun!”
“Yep, definitely a gun.” Prompto agrees.
“You could hurt someone with that,” Noctis tuts.
The thug is somewhere between unsettled and frustrated at this point, so they ready the gun.
“Wallets! Now!”
“Oh you’re definitely AB.” Noctis sighs like blood types are horoscopes and all AB’s are hysterical. He thinks he’s funny like that.
Then the goon frowns, confused, and as was inevitable Prompto tackles them down into the snow so hard something audibly breaks. The goon opens their mouth to scream, a reflex, but Prompto’s already bitten into their throat so hard he’s effectively crushed their windpipe. It’s surprisingly easy to do that as a vampire. Perhaps part of a natural hunt? A mechanism to ensure more successful feeding? Prompto’s always surprised Noctis didn’t break his windpipe.
Prompto whips his head back a few moments later, exhaling thick white breath into the cold, crisp, air of the backstreet. Noctis snorts behind him, nudging the corpse’s foot with his shoe.
“Better?” Noctis supposes.
“Full,” Prompto snorts, dragging his tongue over his sharp fangs.
“Let’s dump him then.” Noctis bends down.
Noctis can carry an adult human male like it’s nothing. He throws this one into a mottled old dumpster in a nearby alley and they both trot back out onto the street.
“Do you wanna head home?” Prompto asks.
“I’m kind of enjoying being out.” Noctis admits.
“What do you wanna do then?” Prompto wonders, taking Noctis’ offered hand.
Regis’ court have moved back to New York for now but they’re easily accessible. Besides, Noctis could encroach upon the hospitality of any vampire in Seattle and there are a few.
“There’s a twenty-four hour arcade,” Noctis tugs, “wash dinner down with a slushie, play whack-a-mole?”
“Sounds awesome.” Prompto finds himself smiling easily.
Prompto’s not sure his brain will ever ‘grow up’ so to speak. He’ll get older, wiser, but he wonders if some part of him will remain eternally sixteen years old. Noctis seems to have never lost his youth or his love of pop culture. Prompto kind of hopes he can retain that spark himself. Being best friends with Noctis, playing games forever, that sounds like an eternity Prompto would really enjoy.
“Here, share.” Noctis offers at the arcade passing Prompto his slushie so Prompto can suck out of the already damp straw.
Noctis and Prompto have the reflexes to obliterate almost every game in the arcade. Except the claw machine cause that thing’s fucking rigged. They always end up clearing out the tickets but there’s always a passionate argument about what prize to get. Prompto always wants stuffed toys. Noctis is unconvinced.
Prompto knows by human and especially vampire standards Noctis is gorgeous but Prompto doesn’t think he ever looks better than when he’s frazzled screaming at zombies in the shooter booth. Prompto finds his over excited scream so compelling he drags Noctis into the photo booth and compels him to make stupid faces. Prompto is building a wall of coven family photos in ‘his room’ back home and between every row of polaroid’s there’s a whole line of photo booth strips from trips like this with Noctis. The photos give Prompto such compulsive joy, such delight…
Honestly, things have gotten…
Prompto never dated as a human. He had crushes. Hannah Kirk in seventh grade made his heart swell up like a balloon but he never got the nerve to ask her out. He was shy, his clothes were dirty from his mother forgetting to wash them and his shoes were often sloppy because his parents were more interested in buying drugs than school shoes. He would’ve been mortified to ask anyone out. They never could’ve come to his house, he didn’t have a cellphone, he—What did he have? He was a wreck.
Now he’s vampire royalty.
And Noctis is the sweetest guy this side of eternity.
But, like…
Would that make things weird?
Prompto knows his undead gut flutters with a storm cloud of butterflies every time Noctis takes his hand but Noctis loves all his coven. Hell, Noctis loves Arydn in a special way even. There are bonds there. Prompto doesn’t know what romance looks like to Noctis. Would he act any different if he was interested?
What does romance even look like with vampires?
Prompto knows vampires can Mate. He’s heard about that in passing but he doesn’t know much about what it means. Prompto even asked Nyx at the clan Christmas ball in New York if he has a Mate but Nyx told him it’s a very serious bond and most vampires don’t get to that stage. That most vampires have ‘casual’ flings of ‘just a few decades’. Prompto, embarrassed by his lack of understanding, didn’t push further then.
Can vampires even have sex…?
Prompto’s mind is a whirl of questions every day. He looks at Noctis and he feels things and he starts asking himself all these questions he doesn’t have answers to. It’s kind of hard to ask at home either. He doesn’t feel ready to talk to Noctis and even if he could gather the nerve to ask Ignis or Gladio vampire hearing is pretty acute so his conversation wouldn’t exactly be private.
Still…
They make it home with the sunrise. Parking the car and heading inside the house. Noctis is just falling into Gladio’s side, nestling up, when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.
Noctis whips his phone out and throws it on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Starlight!” Ardyn chimes.
“Pft,” Noctis snorts, “hi Ardyn. What’s the talk around town?”
“Well, so glad you asked,” Ardyn croons. “Am I on speaker? Put me on speaker?”
“You’re on speaker,” Noctis assures.
“Splendid!” Ardyn cheers. “Well, in that case, I would love to formally invite you and my darling little brothers to an event I’m throwing.”
“What are we talking here?” Noctis hesitates.
“Well, I put on my thinking hat, and I thought to myself; if the clans are currently engaged in a truce, what better time to have a tournament? Don’t you think?”
“A full tournament?” Noctis blinks, standing a little straighter.
“Oh yes,” Ardyn purrs. “We haven’t had a tournament of this scale since before the war, but I thought; why not invite my cousins in the New World to come compete? It’ll make for better drama! Clan versus clan, vampire versus vampire, tests of skill and strength! You will come, won’t you Starlight?”
“Fuck yeah, I’ll come,” Noctis answers with evident enthusiasm. “Where?”
“The Carpathians in—”
“Romania!” Noctis cries, delighted.
“I thought you’d like that,” Ardyn declares smugly. “Lots of space too. Plenty of room to set up shop where the humans can’t reach us.”
“Have you called Regis and Gilgamesh yet?”
“They’re my next call, immediate family first.” Ardyn tuts. “We will of course make all the necessary arrangements to accommodate the First. I don’t suppose there’s an email address one of my lads can send tickets and itinerary to?”
“Um—” Noctis glances and Ignis nods diligently. “Yeah, I’ll text you.”
“Austria first,” Ardyn warns, “set up will take a few days and I do want to show you our new catacombs in Vienna. The facilities, Starlight,” Ardyn makes a pleased sound, promising; “you’ll feel right at home!”
Noctis laughs. “Sounds great, Ardyn. See you there.”
The call ends and Prompto quirks;
“So I get I’m an uneducated slob, like always, but I gotta ask; what’s a tournament?” He laughs.
“It’s like…” Noctis is bouncing on his feet. “You know how they’d have gladiator matches in Rome? Or big jousting tournaments in medieval Europe? It’s like that except vampires. Fighting beasts and each other, showing off their combat skills, proving who’s the best… In the old days masters would come to show their wares too; vampire seamstresses, musicians, artists, all that!”
“Knowing Ardyn I don’t doubt we’ll receive the same spectacle.” Ignis supposes. “And, knowing Ardyn, I suspect there’s an ulterior motive here.”
“Oh nothing surer.” Noctis laughs. “He’s up to something but this will be fun!”
“So…” Gladio hesitates. “Noct, are we allowed to compete…?”
“I mean…” Noctis hums. “I probably can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. But I certainly give my permission for you to compete. If you want?”
“Fuck yeah, I want!” Gladio perks, excitement creeping into his face.
“Ardyn should have some grand accommodations awaiting us,” Ignis murmurs. “He has been settled in the Old World for thousands of years. Regis has only been able to establish his kingdom since European colonisation.”
“That sounds nuts,” Prompto reels. “All that stuff. Places where vampires have lived since forever…”
“Looks like we’ll be using that new passport of yours Prompto,” Ignis smiles.
Prompto starts to join Noctis’ bounce. “I’ve never been out of the States. I hadn’t been on a plane till I met you guys. This is going to be so cool!”
“Ah I’m so excited!” Noctis spins.
They spend much of the day packing. Ignis reviews the itinerary and such Ardyn sends them and it looks like they’ll certainly be travelling in style. Turns out compounding interest is a vampire’s best friend in the modern world. That and they’ve certainly cornered the antique market. Gladio sends two or three emails to Ardyn’s men asking about the technicalities of getting some of his equipment on the flight. Humans get nervous when you’ve got big fuck off swords in the cargo but a private vampiric jet is decidedly cool about that sort of thing so long as the weaponry falls ‘within competition rules’.
Noctis shifts subtly as they get ready to head to the international airport. Noctis normally wears hoodies and big chunky headphones, jeans, fuck-off combat boots, wrist bands… but when preparing to assume his role as ‘King of the Vampires’ there’s a subtle shift in his styling from gothic teen to designer goth. Noctis doesn’t look massively different but there’s something hot about when he looks just fractionally more put together. When he leans into super model and away from dishevelled Prompto can really appreciate all the perfect symmetry of his immortal features.
Done up like royals, bags packed, they leave the car at the long stay parking and follow their escort past security to the private check in.
Prompto never flew as a human and he suspects given his travel since has been exclusively on private jets he’s not really getting the usual experience. That said? Prompto still finds flying uncomfortable. Blood tastes funny at altitude but he doesn’t much like going fourteen plus hours without nourishment either. Noctis distracts him with video games for the most part but, in between games, Prompto starts to realise something.
Ignis and Gladio have never been Mated and talking to them privately is difficult.
Verstael’s been Mated.
Maybe Prompto can find some excuse to be alone with his blood-kin and ask the questions that are burning inside his gullet? If anyone must know the details of vampiric romance its Verstael, right? He and Ardyn have been Mated for a few thousand years. Surely, Verstael can answer Prompto’s technical questions if nothing else and with the tournament his coven will likely be distracted enough for Prompto to garner a little privacy.
It’s cold in Vienna when they land but they barely notice it ferried between private jet into private car. Its an almost two hour drive out of the airport, across the city, into the belly of an old estate. Prompto’s only seen places like this in movies. The buildings look like someone started them, a few hundred years ago, and never quite stopped constructing. Odd bits from conflicting time periods overlap each other in a complicated web but form a compelling overall picture.
Prompto wonders what the humans think this vampiric palace is used for? There must be some kind of cover story because their vampire driver takes them past two check points with human security guards. Prompto wonders if those humans have any idea what they’re wrapped up in. Do they think the buildings are haunted? Do they ever get eerie feelings? They’re not going to keep any vampires out. The human guards are strictly to keep humans from asking questions it seems to Prompto.
Once inside they’re escorted past layers of proper vampire security until they’re in a lavish, sprawling, mess of interconnected apartment room where Ardyn is waiting for them.
“Starlight,” Ardyn greets first, kissing Noctis’ knuckles.
“Do you ever stop renovating?” Noctis teases with a snort.
“Oh? You noticed the--?” Ardyn sighs, theatrically embarrassed. “Well, you know how it is; I’m so fickle! I like human fashions. It really is a filthy, restless, compulsion.”
“It’s not so bad,” Noctis permits. “If we didn’t adapts we wouldn’t survive. I’d be more worried if you lost interest in trying new things.”
“So true,” Ardyn nods. “And Gladiolus, looking handsome. I hear you’re competing?”
“Hoping to,” Gladio puffs himself up.
“Not marksmanship, I hope?” Ardyn asks.
“Uh—No?” Gladio blinks, evidently slightly confused. “No, I was thinking the swordsmanship.”
“Splendid!” Ardyn cheers. “Much better idea. You must forgive me, I don’t mean to be obtuse, but I’ve put a bet on the marksmen, and I would hate to bet against you.”
“It’s fine,” Gladio grunts.
“Ignis, no show of skill for you?” Ardyn pivots in his greetings.
“Not this time,” Ignis smiles politely. “I’m more interested in exploring the craftsmanship that will undoubtedly be on display.”
“I don’t blame you,” Ardyn chuckles. “That actually brings me to dinner. You must be hungry, eh Sunshine?”
“I’m starving!” Prompto whines.
“Poor precious boy,” Ardyn sympathises. “Must feed you immediately. Come, come, sit. I have options.”
They get themselves comfortable while Ardyn’s attendants fluster about.
“Now, I do have a lovely selection of blood wine.”
“Pickled blood.” Noctis snorts.
“The fermentation, the intermingling, that takes place between the wine and the blood is delightful.” Ardyn insists. “But I knew I was dealing with fussy eaters so I planned ahead; there is a lovely young vampire miss who makes a lovely concoction she’s been perfecting for fifty years. It’s mainly blood, chocolate and spice. Warm, of course. Interested?”
“Sounds good,” Noctis curls his legs up on the couch, tucked under him.
“I wouldn’t mind trying some blood wine,” Ignis counters.
“Finally! Someone with class!” Ardyn cheers.
“Make it two,” Gladio grunts, resting into his knees.
“For you, Sunshine?”
“I think I’ll stick with blood cocoa.” Prompto laughs. “Though I’m kind of surprised you’re not offering us live humans.”
“Oh I certainly can,” Ardyn assures, “I simply find after a long haul flight a heavy meal unsettles the system. Though, that said, if you want a fresh squeezed meal I can provide. Have you tried a human drunk on hard liquor? It’s a wonderfully heady taste.”
“Oh n-no thanks,” Prompto backtracks quickly. “I was just teasing.”
“Prompto’s a pickier eater than me.” Noctis reveals.
“Oh?” Ardyn supposes, interested.
“He likes his food to deserve it.”
“Ah,” Ardyn nods in immediate understanding. “A popular kink amongst little ones. Most of them grow out of the sensitivity and diversify their diets eventually.”
“I’m sure but…” Prompto paws at his neck gently.
“It’s fine, Sunshine,” Ardyn assures. “We want you to be comfortable during your visit. If criminals are your taste you needn’t fear, you shan’t want for a thing.”
“Thanks,” Prompto eases fractionally.
“No Verstael?” Noctis supposes, changing the subject.
“Inspiration struck this afternoon,” Ardyn sighs exasperatedly. “He promised me he’d join us just as soon as… I don’t quite remember, actually, something to do with samples and centrifuges?”
“He’ll come when he comes.” Noctis shrugs. “So long as he’s well.”
“I think he does better than me most days.” Ardyn snorts. “But then, he’s the clever one.”
“I would like to see him,” Prompto presses gently, trying not to be too obvious. “You know, spend some time.”
“Of course, Sunshine,” Ardyn assures. “You’re a priority and I’m sure he’d let you visit the laboratory. I’m just banned because I poke things. He hates that.”
“When are we off to the Carpathians?” Gladio asks, keen.
“Two days.” Ardyn answers. “Vienna and the estate are at your disposal until then.”
“I suppose not everyone will be coming out to the Carpathians,” Ignis rues, “Noctis do you suppose you should make an appearance to some of the locals who won’t be travelling out? I’m sure there’s plenty in Vienna who’d like the chance to see you back in society.”
“Maybe,” Noctis hums.
“I can facilitate that,” Ardyn assures. “My clan are very passionate about lineage. Most Old World vampires would be desperate to see you.”
“An appearance then,” Noctis nods. “I’m sure there will be more mingling at the tournament.”
“Obviously,” Ardyn nods. “We’ll have more freedom out there. Away from pesky mortals and their curious fingers.”
A vampire appears with their drinks about now. Ignis quite seems to like the blood wine but Gladio coughs, evidently finding it a bit strong, and Ardyn looks subtly amused. Noctis swoons with his cocoa concoction and Prompto is pleasantly surprised. He knows, if he was still human, he’d be like; what’s all this blood doing in my spiced cocoa? But as a vampire? It’s really nice. Spicy and sweet and rich. Prompto is looking forward to a few more cups of it during his stay.
“I should mention, Prompto,” Ardyn sips. “Your… cousin? Will be joining us for the trip.”
“Cousin?” Prompto supposes.
“One of Verstael’s youngest fledglings; Loqi.”
“It’ll be nice to meet more family,” Prompto decides though he’s genuinely uncertain because, like, he has no idea what this Loqi guy is going to be like. And ‘young’ in vampire terms can be anywhere from like fifty to two hundred years old. Like, sure, he’ll probably be more vampire than Prompto. Most vampires are, especially amongst the elites, but that’s not hard. Prompto’s barely a year old.
“Anyone else of note coming?” Gladio asks. “Any tough contenders I should know about?”
“Well….” Ardyn chuckles. “Glauca, one of mine, will be competing but he hasn’t told me what arena he’s focusing his attentions on. He’s fierce. I made him to be a bruiser.”
“Big guy?” Gladio grunts.
“Big.” Ardyn nods. “Older than you too, a thousand. He’ll give you a fight but you’ve got First blood so you shouldn’t embarrass the family too badly.”
“Looking forward to putting him on his ass then.” Gladio smirks.
Ardyn laughs. “A toast to Gladiolus’ oncoming concussion!”
“A toast to Ardyn’s soon to be disgraced fledgling,” Gladio raises his glass with equal certainty.
Ignis sighs and takes a deep gulp of blood wine.
“You’ve built catacombs under the estate.” Noctis prods Ardyn, sipping his cocoa and looking very comfortable. “I can hear water down there. Is that intentional?”
Prompto pauses, straining his ears, but not for the first time he rues Noctis’ hearing is just better than his.
“Those would be the Roman baths.” Ardyn smirks.
Noctis uncurls immediately.
“Well now you have to take me!”
Ardyn laughs but Ignis snorts.
“Noctis it’s getting late, we’ve been on a plane for fourteen hours,” Ignis reminds. “Perhaps—”
“Oh come on!” Noctis pleads. “Just an hour? Come on, they’re great. We can sleep when we’re dead.”
“We are dead, technically—” Gladio starts to argue.
“Well you are certainly all invited to rest,” Ardyn offers, “I can take Noctis myself.”
There’s a communal glance at that, a consideration.
Ardyn obviously has plans. Ardyn doesn’t ‘just decide’ to do anything for kicks. Let alone throw a tournament of this scale. He’s definitely up to something. Noctis can take him in a fight, if it comes to that, but Gladio, Ignis and Prompto would be vulnerable if they all got separated.
“Surely it can wait till tomorrow, Noctis?” Ignis tries to entreat.
Noctis stews on the notion for a moment, debating.
“Prom?” Noctis wonders, trying to make his own decision.
“Tomorrow morning? Yeah?” Prompto supposes, thumbs up.
“Ugh, alright.” Noctis slumps, draining the last of his cocoa.
There is a moment of collective relief but Ardyn looks gently perturbed.
“I do wish I learned how to do that, back in the old days,” Ardyn tuts. “I could never get Noctis to do anything. He had me wrapped around his little finger.”
“You’re a softie at heart,” Noctis salutes with his cup. “Alright, alright, should we crash for a few hours then? Sooner we sleep the sooner I can hit those baths.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s fair,” Ignis nods. “Might we be escorted to our quarters?”
“Of course,” Ardyn beckons a vampire closer.