The moon hung low and golden over the village square, casting a soft glow on pumpkins, lanterns, and cobweb-draped stalls. It was Halloween — the one night where nobles, maids, and misfits could wear masks and pretend the world was made of magic and sugar.
Colden adjusted his velvet cape, a faux fang tucked into his collar. "I still don't understand why I'm a vampire."
Marco, dressed in a stitched-up scarecrow outfit, grinned. "Because you brood. And you have the cheekbones for it."
"I do not brood," Colden said, brooding.
Marco laughed and handed him a candy bucket shaped like a bat. "Come on, Prince of Darkness. Let's go beg for sweets."
They joined the crowd of costumed villagers, weaving through stalls and knocking on doors. At one house, a little girl dressed as a ghost handed Marco a caramel apple and whispered, "You're the prettiest scarecrow I've ever seen."
Colden narrowed his eyes. "He's taken."
Marco elbowed him. "By a vampire who sulks over licorice."
Meanwhile, Lady Viremont had arrived with her entourage — Seraphine, Mirelle, and Celia — all dressed in matching witch gowns, complete with glittery hats and broomsticks.
"I don't see why we must walk," Viremont huffed, holding her skirt. "Can't we summon the candy?"
Seraphine rolled her eyes. "Mother, it's called trick-or-treating. You walk. You knock. You smile."
"I don't smile," Viremont said. "I command."
At the next house, a boy handed her a single jellybean.
Viremont stared. "Is this a joke?"
"It's cherry," the boy said.
"I don't do cherry," she sniffed, tossing it over her shoulder.
Celia whispered, "Mother, you just hit a cat."
Viremont gasped. "It was a ghost cat. It'll forgive me."
Back in the square, Marco and Colden sat on a hay bale, sharing marshmallow pumpkins and watching the lanterns flicker.
"You know," Marco said, "this is the first time I've ever done this."
Colden smiled. "Then we'll make it a tradition."
Marco leaned his head on Colden's shoulder. "Even if you're a vampire?"
"Especially then," Colden said. "I'll protect you from garlic."
In the kitchen, the maids were carving pumpkins and giggling over costumes. One wore a giant carrot suit. Another had turned a mop into a ghost.
"I miss Carmine," one said softly.
"She'd be judging our pumpkin symmetry," another added.
"And giving us a lecture on candy etiquette."
They laughed, then placed a candle inside the biggest pumpkin and whispered, "Happy Halloween, Carmine."
Outside, Viremont stood before a haunted house attraction.
"I demand to speak to the ghost in charge," she declared.
A skeleton popped out of the window.
Viremont screamed and threw her broom at it.
"Mother," Seraphine sighed, "you just assaulted a papier-mâché skeleton."
"It startled me," Viremont said. "It had poor posture."
As the night wound down, Colden and Marco walked back toward the castle, their buckets full, their hearts light.
"I think I like Halloween," Marco said.
Colden nodded. "Me too."
THANK YOU....