A Centuries Old Vanity

The prince stared at the parchment, as his ministers watched impatiently.

“This treaty will mean peace with the Empire and ensure that our kingdom remains independent.”

The prince hesitated as he dipped his pen in ink. He understood the ramifications. He knew that to continue fighting against the Holy Roman Empire would eventually lead to his destruction. The church could not tolerate anything they saw as a perversion.

But then he looked at the names at the bottom. King Ferdinand II and Prince Gabriel Bethlen.

He threw his pen aside. Vlad Dracula would never lie about his name. Not ever.

Getting excited about our historical fiction contest, and so I wrote this little piece, from 1620.

An Invitation

As Tom flipped through his mail, he hesitated when he came to a thick parchment envelope, intricately addressed with gold trim. This was certainly not a bill.

Breaking open the wax seal, Tom pulled forth a hand-inked letter in an elegant cursive, with the type of curls that indicated a tremendous sense of self-worth.

"Dear Thomas Pendergraph," the letter began, "Your presence is requested in the royal palace on the fifth of December..."

Tom scanned to the bottom of the correspondence. It was signed by the Emperor.

He tossed the letter into the trash bin with the other junk mail.