a Beauté
Je suis belle, ô mortels! comme un rêve de pierre,
Et mon sein, où chacun s'est meurtri tour à tour,
Est fait pour inspirer au poète un amour
Eternel et muet ainsi que la matière.
Je trône dans l'azur comme un sphinx incompris;
J'unis un coeur de neige à la blancheur des cygnes;
Je hais le mouvement qui déplace les lignes,
Et jamais je ne pleure et jamais je ne ris.
Les poètes, devant mes grandes attitudes,
Que j'ai l'air d'emprunter aux plus fiers monuments,
Consumeront leurs jours en d'austères études;
Car j'ai, pour fasciner ces dociles amants,
De purs miroirs qui font toutes choses plus belles:
Mes yeux, mes larges yeux aux clartés éternelles!
— Charles Baudelaire


Allow me to introduce myself: I am Benoit, le Comte Bar le Meuse. It is my birthright. I am the oldest child; therefore God has made me the chosen one. Mon frère, Reynaud, often informs me that it is a dead title but it is simple jealousy on his part. Mortals are fascinated with royalty even if the title carries no land and it is mine to use to any advantage I can get, no?

As a child, I was subjected to the tortures of tutors, but I managed to avoid them much of the time. I enjoyed playing, lying about and hunting. As I grew older, I enjoyed the company of the beautiful and ceux-là qui cherchent le plaisir, the pleasure seekers as Americans call them. How could any deny me what made me happy? My family, as well as those in our village, knew it was my destiny to be indulged; everyone but that righteous petite fille that went traipsing off to war because she heard voices. I think they made her a saint after her death, Jeanne le saint. What a waste of young life, une tragédie.

Near the end of the Hundred Years’ War, my family was taken as traitors, my parents beheaded. To save my brother’s life, I selflessly pledged myself to a very powerful magician who assured me he could save what was left of my family. How could I have known this man was a vampire? It seemed my pledge was a wasted act of altruism as Reynaud was not in as much danger as I was led to believe. To make amends for not allowing me to save him, he joined me in my servitude. It was impossible to keep me in servant chains for long. I needed distraction and left the daily chores to my brother to complete as I enjoyed the company of the shops, halls and homes of the elite. I was therefore not around when my brother was made a vampire. He felt we were in danger and convinced the vampire to change him. He has always been the alarmist.

My little Reynaud was right in some ways. There were those that wished me dead, jealous of my natural entitlement. I was clever and blessed enough to avoid them for a decade without harm. When one of their attempts to kill me was almost successful, mon frère presented me to our master and I joined them in la vie noire. I had concerns that it would ruin my life, but I was wrong.

The life of an immortal suits me well; it enhanced all of my natural perfection and talents as well as handed me some marvelous gifts. Times were changing in France for the better; Louis XIII ascended the throne and once again, the county knew the perfection of the monarchy. We moved to Paris and then on to Versailles. Ah bon, the rule of Louis XIV, le Roi Soleil, was truly magical, the parties and such, o la, la. The grandeur, the splendid materials, art, music and fashions enticed the senses. Our queen Marie Antoinette was an angel. The young men and women interested in all sorts of pleasures entertained me nightly. I had found my place in the court of the king; finally there was a class of people that understood all that I deserved.

It was unfortunate that the rabble was intent on ruining the divine rule. The revolution is a dark stain on such a glorious country. It broke our creator's heart and he chose to end his existence. I was cautioned to mask my status as a member of the aristocracy. I refused to hide like my brother did, as if I was ashamed of my ancestry. Soon after, Reynaud insisted I move to England. I indulged him as it seemed to bother him so much to keep my home in France. The time in wet dreary England, even with the distraction of the king and his court, was hardly amusing.

It was a sad blessing to return to ma ville-lumière, Paris, as so much of the grand splendor had been destroyed. Paris and France can never be imprisoned for long and soon enough we were back to living a sumptuous existence or at least as much of one as I could cajole mon frère to participate in.

We now live in America and I am pleased with the variety of distractions I find to amuse myself. Modern times are so fascinating. The freedom of clothing on both women and men or the freedom to select to wear so little, the myriad of amusements and choices, the independent spirit of the mortals make my blood race and cheer me as little has in so long. I have heard tales of those of our kind that are depressed and distraught, feeling as if they are cursed. What fools they are. C'est la vie; Ah oui, c'est la vie perfectionne plus !