The Shameless Vampire of Versailles"
In the gilded halls of 17th-century Versailles, where candlelight danced on golden walls and nobles whispered secrets behind silken curtains, there existed a being whose presence was both feared and desired. He was known only as Lucien, a vampire whose beauty was legendary and whose audacity knew no bounds. Tales spoke of him entering the grand masquerade balls uninvited, stealing wine, morsels, and sometimes hearts—without shame, without apology.
Lucien's eyes glowed like molten rubies in the dim candlelight, and his pale skin shimmered against the rich velvets of the courtiers. Yet it was not mere appearance that enthralled the unsuspecting—his charm was dangerous, intoxicating, irresistible. He could bend the will of kings, sway queens, and leave a trail of fascination wherever he went.
One winter evening, as snow fell silently over the palace gardens, Lucien encountered Élodie, a young noblewoman with raven hair and an unquenchable curiosity. Unlike others, she did not cower at his crimson gaze. Instead, her defiance sparked an interest in Lucien that centuries of indulgence had never ignited. He approached her beneath the moonlit fountain, his fangs glinting faintly, and whispered, "Do you fear me, or do you desire what lies beyond death?"
Élodie's heart pounded, yet she answered steadily, "Perhaps a bit of both."
From that night on, Lucien became shameless in his pursuit. He revealed to her the hidden world of darkness behind Versailles' glittering façade—rooms where the noble dead lingered, where forbidden feasts of blood and power were held. Élodie, both terrified and mesmerized, walked willingly into shadows she could never escape.
Their romance was a dangerous dance of fire and frost. Lucien's shameless appetite for desire, danger, and dominion mirrored the intensity of Élodie's curiosity and longing. Yet as the frost of winter crept over the palace grounds, whispers of fear began to swirl among the courtiers. Lucien's shameless acts—the draining of men and women of their vitality, the eerie seduction of hearts—could not remain hidden forever.
One night, beneath the chandelier of the grand hall, the nobles gathered to confront the mysterious figure who had stolen both their wealth and their innocence. But Lucien, ever shameless, did not flee. Instead, he smiled, fangs flashing, eyes burning with centuries of temptation. And then, with a fluid motion that seemed almost poetic, he vanished—leaving Élodie behind, her lips tinged with blood, her soul forever bound to him.
The legend of the shameless vampire of Versailles endured. Whispers of his audacious exploits, his reckless seduction, and the girl who dared to love him persisted long after the palace lights dimmed. And in the shadows of every ball, behind every silken mask, it was said that Lucien still waited—ever shameless, ever hungry, ever in love with the thrill of mortal hearts.