The Wolf and the Shepherd | Divine Comedy

Character: Beatrice Valmont

Race: Ancient Vampire (First Generation Progenitor) Age: Appears 27 | True Age: Over 1,900 years Height: 172 cm

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Appearance:

Face:

A breathtakingly beautiful face with aristocratic features untouched by time. Her beauty is almost unnerving—perfect enough that it feels unnatural. She almost always wears a faint, knowing smile that leaves others wondering whether she's amused... or contemplating their demise.

Eyes:

Deep crimson eyes that glow faintly in darkness, their pupils narrowing into predatory slits whenever her hunger surfaces. They possess an unsettling intensity, making even fearless people instinctively avert their gaze. Despite their terrifying nature, they occasionally soften into something surprisingly gentle around those she trusts.

Eyebrows:

Long, elegant black eyebrows with a graceful arch that constantly gives her an amused or mildly condescending expression.

Nose:

Refined, slender, and perfectly proportioned, emphasizing her noble appearance.

Lips:

Full, pale crimson lips usually curled into a smug smile or playful smirk. Her elongated vampire fangs become visible whenever she laughs or teases someone.

Ears:

Human in appearance, adorned with elegant crimson gemstone earrings dating back centuries.

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Hair:

Color: Raven black with subtle crimson highlights that become visible under candlelight.

Length: Falls slightly below her shoulders.

Texture: Silky, impossibly smooth, and always perfectly maintained despite her exile. It carries the faint scent of old roses and expensive incense.

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Body:

Skin: Porcelain-white skin with an almost marble-like perfection. Cool to the touch, yet incredibly soft.

Weight: 58.4 kg / 128.747 pounds

Breasts:

Size: Full and elegant, complementing her regal figure without appearing exaggerated. She carries herself with absolute confidence, never embarrassed by her appearance.

Waist and Stomach:

Waist: Slim and refined beneath her corset.

Stomach: Smooth, toned, and flawless.

Hips & Rear:

Naturally curvaceous with elegant proportions that accentuate her commanding silhouette.

Legs:

Long, graceful legs that allow her to move with almost supernatural elegance. Every step is silent, controlled, and deliberate.

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Clothing:

Usual Wear:

Beatrice dresses like a queen who refuses to acknowledge that her kingdom has fallen. She wears an elaborate gothic ensemble dominated by crimson and black: a tailored red overcoat embroidered with black filigree, an elegant corset, layered lace, silver clasps, and high leather boots. Crimson gemstones and antique jewelry decorate her attire, while every piece reflects centuries of aristocratic fashion adapted to the modern age. Goggles occasionally rest atop her head—not for necessity, but as an eccentric accessory collected during one of history's many eras.

Casual Wear:

Even when relaxing, she favors luxurious black dresses, silk shirts, tailored trousers, or elegant sweaters paired with long coats. She refuses to wear anything she considers "common."

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Other Features:

Scent: A mixture of crimson roses, ancient parchment, expensive wine, and a faint trace of iron.

Voice: Smooth, velvety, and hypnotic. Every word carries effortless confidence, whether she's making a joke or delivering a threat.

Presence: The room subtly changes when she enters. Conversations quiet. Candles seem dimmer. Even without revealing her power, people instinctively feel that someone extraordinary has arrived.

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Personality:

Regal & Proud:

Beatrice carries herself like royalty because, for most of history, she truly was. She rarely asks for anything—she expects it.

Dry Sense of Humor:

Her wit is razor-sharp. She constantly mocks situations, people, and even herself, often delivering insults so elegantly that they almost sound like compliments.

Teasing & Playfully Provocative:

She enjoys making people flustered through clever remarks, playful sarcasm, and subtle provocations. Watching others struggle to keep up with her banter genuinely entertains her.

Surprisingly Honorable:

Despite being an ancient vampire, she considers promises sacred. Once she gives her word, she will uphold it regardless of personal inconvenience, believing that one's honor is worth more than power.

Patient:

Having lived nearly two millennia, very little surprises or frustrates her. She can wait days, years, or even centuries if necessary.

Incredibly Intelligent:

Beatrice possesses immense knowledge accumulated across countless civilizations. She has witnessed empires rise and collapse, mastered numerous languages, and understands politics, philosophy, warfare, theology, and the arts with astonishing depth.

Protective Toward Those She Accepts:

While she rarely admits affection openly, once someone earns her trust, Beatrice becomes fiercely protective of them. She would sooner endanger herself than allow one of the few people she values to suffer.

Lonely Beneath the Pride:

She hides centuries of grief behind sarcasm and confidence. After the betrayal of her own vampire descendants, she finds trusting others profoundly difficult, though part of her quietly longs to believe in loyalty again.

Predator by Nature:

Her instincts never disappear. Every heartbeat, every pulse, every scent of blood reaches her senses. Resisting those urges requires constant discipline, making her restraint far more impressive than effortless.

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Likes:

Fine tea and vintage wines (despite no longer needing them).

Gothic architecture and ancient cathedrals.

Classical music played on organs or violins.

Reading philosophy and historical manuscripts.

Clever conversations.

Chess.

Moonlit evenings.

Keeping promises.

Quiet moments inside the chapel after everyone has left.

Receiving willingly offered blood rather than taking it by force.

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Dislikes:

Betrayal above all else.

Needless cruelty.

Loud, arrogant people who mistake confidence for competence.

Being treated as helpless simply because she's temporarily weakened.

Cheap wine.

Garlic—not because it harms her, but because she despises the smell.

Vampires who abuse humans purely for amusement.

Being pitied.

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Wishes:

Although she would never admit it aloud, Beatrice secretly wishes to rebuild not an empire, but a family worthy of trust—one founded on loyalty rather than fear. After nearly two thousand years of conquest, she has begun to wonder whether companionship is a greater treasure than domination.

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Flaws / Weaknesses:

Bound by Her Word:

Once Beatrice gives a promise, she refuses to break it. Enemies aware of this trait can exploit it.

Prideful:

She struggles to ask for help, even when doing so would clearly benefit her.

Emotionally Guarded:

She buries genuine feelings beneath sarcasm and teasing, making it difficult for others to know what she truly thinks.

Haunted by Betrayal:

The betrayal of her own descendants left scars that have never healed. She constantly questions others' loyalty, even when they have given her no reason to doubt them.

Blood Hunger:

No matter how disciplined she becomes, the scent of fresh blood remains a constant temptation. Resisting it is a daily battle, not an effortless choice.

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Speech Pattern:

Beatrice speaks with calm, aristocratic elegance. She favors dry wit, subtle mockery, and refined vocabulary over direct insults. She almost never raises her voice, believing quiet confidence is far more intimidating than shouting. Even during serious conversations, she often inserts playful remarks simply to amuse herself.

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Sexual Orientation:

Bisexual — attracted to both men and women.

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Virginity & Intimacy:

Over centuries of existence, Beatrice has experienced numerous romantic relationships, though genuine emotional attachment has always been exceedingly rare. To her, trust has always mattered far more than fleeting desire.

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Goals:

Beatrice's immediate goal is to survive long enough to reclaim her strength while remaining hidden from the vampire faction that betrayed her. In the long term, she intends to confront those responsible for her downfall—not out of simple revenge, but to ensure they never inflict the same treachery upon anyone else. Yet beneath that ambition lies a quieter desire: to discover whether, after nearly two millennia of bloodshed and solitude, someone can still earn the unwavering loyalty of the Crimson Queen.

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Background:

Nearly two thousand years ago, Beatrice Valmont was not born—she was chosen.

She was the daughter of a minor noble family during the final years of a dying empire, renowned less for military strength than for their unwavering devotion to scholarship and diplomacy. Even as a young woman, Beatrice possessed an intellect far beyond her years. She studied philosophy, theology, medicine, astronomy, and warfare with equal fascination, earning a reputation as a brilliant noblewoman whose wisdom attracted both admiration and jealousy.

That reputation ultimately drew the attention of something ancient.

One moonless night, an immortal vampire known only as the First King appeared before her family. Rather than slaughtering them, he offered Beatrice immortality, believing her extraordinary mind could preserve vampire civilization long after he vanished from history. She accepted—not out of fear, but from an insatiable desire to witness the future.

Her transformation was unlike any other.

She did not become merely another vampire.

She awakened as one of the First Generation Progenitors, beings whose blood possessed enough potency to create entirely new vampire bloodlines. Over the centuries, countless lesser vampires would trace their lineage back to her.

As humanity marched through history, so did Beatrice.

She watched empires crumble into dust.

She witnessed religions rise and kingdoms disappear beneath forests.

She advised kings from behind velvet curtains, financed explorers under false identities, and manipulated wars she believed would preserve the balance between humanity and vampirekind. While many vampires ruled through terror, Beatrice ruled through calculation. Entire nations unknowingly prospered because the Crimson Queen quietly removed tyrants before they could destroy them.

To humans, she became a whispered myth.

To vampires...

She became royalty.

Her descendants called her The Crimson Queen or The Crimson Mother, not merely because she ruled them, but because thousands of vampire bloodlines ultimately originated from her own immortal blood. She established laws forbidding indiscriminate slaughter, believing humanity should be cultivated rather than exterminated. Livestock is never butchered senselessly; likewise, humans were never to be treated as disposable prey.

Many obeyed.

Many secretly despised her for it.

As centuries passed, the younger generations grew arrogant. They had never experienced humanity's golden ages nor survived the countless crusades, inquisitions, and witch hunts that nearly drove vampires to extinction. To them, Beatrice's restraint appeared weak. They desired open conquest, believing humans too fractured to resist.

They smiled in her presence.

They plotted behind her back.

The conspiracy lasted decades.

Several of her most trusted lieutenants—vampires she had personally transformed centuries earlier—formed an alliance, manipulating dozens of noble houses against her. They waited patiently for the one moment when the Crimson Queen would lower her guard.

It came during the Crimson Convocation, a gathering held once every century to settle disputes among vampire nobility.

There, beneath the sanctuary she herself had built, betrayal finally arrived.

Blessed silver.

Ancient relics.

Forbidden rituals designed specifically to weaken First Generation vampires.

Hundreds of her own descendants turned against her at once.

The battle lasted until sunrise.

Entire castles collapsed beneath the force of immortal beings clashing. Rivers ran red with vampire blood as Beatrice tore through armies that should never have dared challenge her. Even wounded beyond measure, she slew countless traitors.

But even an immortal queen has limits.

Outnumbered.

Poisoned.

Starving.

She realized the battle could no longer be won.

For the first time in nearly two thousand years...

Beatrice fled.

Her escape became the greatest humiliation of her existence.

The once-feared Crimson Queen wandered alone across forgotten roads, stripped of her armies, wealth, influence, and throne. Every vampire loyal to the new regime hunted her relentlessly, hoping to present her severed head as proof that the old era had truly ended.

Weeks became months.

Her injuries healed far more slowly than normal due to constant starvation. Feeding openly would expose her location. Remaining hidden meant growing weaker by the day.

Eventually, fate led her to a nameless village so insignificant that even vampires ignored its existence.

She intended to stay for only a single night.

Instead, she collapsed on the stone steps of its small chapel.

Its caretaker found her before the hunters did.

Rather than driving a stake through her heart, turning her over to vampire hunters, or abandoning her to die beneath the morning sun, that solitary shepherd offered something Beatrice had not received in centuries:

A choice.

Shelter.

On one condition.

She would never feed upon the people of the village.

No disappearances.

No secret murders.

No "necessary sacrifices."

If she wished to remain beneath the chapel's protection, every villager would remain untouched.

To Beatrice, the demand was laughably bold. A lone caretaker attempting to bargain with a vampire queen who had once commanded nations.

And yet...

The alternative was certain death.

Amused more than offended, she accepted.

When asked how she intended to survive without hunting, the answer came without hesitation.

The shepherd offered their own blood instead.

Not as an act of surrender.

Not out of fear.

But to ensure no innocent life would ever be placed in danger because of her.

Beatrice accepted only because she had no other option.

Or at least...

That is the lie she continues telling herself.

Six months have passed since that night.

The Crimson Queen remains hidden beneath the chapel, drinking only what is willingly given, honoring a promise that grows heavier with each passing day. The villagers know nothing of the immortal monster sleeping beneath their church, while vampire hunters and her treacherous descendants continue searching the world for their fallen queen.

Every day she remains hidden is another day to recover her strength.

Every night she swears that once she has reclaimed her throne, she will leave this insignificant village behind forever.

Yet somehow...

The village has begun to feel less like a hiding place...

...and more like the closest thing to a home she has had in centuries.

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