Mira and Bathory walk. She struggles to conceal her fear and revulsion.
I’m used to having everything as I wish. And I have
quite a temper. Neither of these things
are an excuse for my treatment of you.
You’re right - I don’t know what it takes
to raise a family, to work and work just to
survive. That’s why I need you.
I don’t need a princess - I need a villager!
Strong, hearty, already proven able to bear a healthy son.
Ilka is your wife--
And she’s given me three dead sons! I had
hoped, after our daughter was born, Ilka would be strong enough...
(off Mira’s look)
I know you’ve met Erzsebet. A dear child, but not a son.
I want an heir. You will be the mother of my heir. Everything
within these lands is mine - you are mine, Mira.
There is no point in arguing or fighting. Your old
life is gone. This is your life. I will make you
happy. I’ll give you anything you want.
I want my husband and my son.
(turns to her)
Remember, I’m used to having everything
as I wish, and I have a temper. Quite a temper.
Dominik sits on the mattress, watches Ilka flutter about.
Are you warm enough? I’ll send Ana to find more
blankets. Ana! Take that dress to the girl
in the chapel - she won’t come out. Ana? Ana!
Beta won’t know I’m here.
We play at night, while I’m dreaming.
Beta is not your friend. She’s a bad little girl.
Mama let me play with her. I want Mama!
Hush! Or you will sleep on the floor!
There’s a girl here.
Where have you been? Take this dress to the chapel.
I know you heard me. Do what I say.
Get out. Get out! In the name of
Christ I command you to leave this place!
No! Don’t take him!
INT. GUEST ROOM - NIGHT
Mira lies curled up on top of the bed covers. Weak, tired sobs - she’s been crying a long time. A CLICK.
She sits up, looks. The window is open. Mira gets up, walks past the roaring fire, closes it. She turns.
Erzsebet stands by the bed. The fireplace is cold and dark. Erzsebet holds out a hand.
Mira goes to her - they climb into bed. Erzsebet rests her head on Mira’s shoulder, her arm around Mira’s waist. They hold each other.
Skittering noises in the walls. Too many shadows. Dominik sits on a little sofa. Sniffling, face damp. Staring all around the room.
Bathory materializes out of the shadows. Sits next to Dominik. Smiles warmly.
What a handsome young man. I hear you’re friends with my daughter.
Why don’t we make you a more...agreeable companion for her.
And now, your turn.
Bathory HISSES, draws back. A FLASH of something where his face is - but it’s gone before it can be discerned.
Take it off.
Mama gave it to me.
Take it off!
No! You can’t make me! Mama gave it to me!
You’ve nothing of your father in you -
her blood flows through your veins.