The mistress of the Campbell household received a letter from France early in the morning, informing her daughters: "Your father and brother are still stranded in France."
Although the situation in France was turbulent and the ports affected, many people were opting to return to Luenton by private vessel. However, their father and brother deemed it unsafe and instead settled temporarily near the harbor, waiting for the situation to stabilize. The main purpose of this letter was to inform the family that they were running out of money.
Upon receiving the news, Mrs. Campbell immediately went to the bank to inquire about remittance procedures. Elena and Jeanette, while a bit worried, were somewhat relieved. Generally speaking, as long as one didn't enter active conflict zones, things should remain relatively safe. Knowing their father and brother were safe eased their minds.
With some peace of mind, Jeanette picked up the latest issue of *Ladies' Monthly* and asked, "El, have you read the new chapter of *Helen*?"
"I have," Elena replied. In the family, she was known as the one in charge of paper dolls, so having early access to *Helen*'s drafts wasn't surprising. What made her nervous was that her sister seemed to want to discuss a story Elena herself had written—a rather awkward situation.
So Jeanette went on to read the latest issue by herself. Not long after, she exclaimed in surprise, "There's a vampire in the new chapter!"
Vampires had recently become a hot topic. One could pick up any newspaper and find something about them. Even Jeanette, who rarely left the house, had heard bits and pieces. But seeing her favorite women's magazine feature them was unexpected. After all, monsters were usually associated with fear and ugliness—what did that have to do with women's fiction?
But to be fair, the vampire noble in *Helen* was nothing like the grotesque, savage depictions commonly seen. Instead, in the eyes of high society, he seemed elegant, noble, mysterious, and powerful—at once alluring and untouchable. It was a complete subversion of the traditional monster image.
"What's more," Jeanette mused, "*Helen* must have been the first serial novel to feature a vampire. Magazines take weeks to print and publish, right? That means the author introduced this idea *before* vampires became popular. My god, what foresight!"
Elena felt rather uneasy under her sister's praise.
Jeanette wasn't the only one who noticed. The three editors at the magazine had been the first to handle *Helen*'s latest manuscript, and they knew very well that when they read it, vampires hadn't yet become a trend. At the time, only one paper—*The Strand*—had published a report on such creatures, and it wasn't even front-page news. Lucy had to flip through half the paper to find it.
"Did *Helen* somehow foresee the trend?" Lucy was nearly in awe of its author. Initially, they had been surprised by the tonal shift in *Helen*—injecting Gothic horror into a traditional women's story might've risked unsettling the readership. But within a few short weeks, vampires had become the talk of all Luenton. Penny dreadfuls with vampire themes flew off the shelves.
Serialized magazine fiction couldn't respond as quickly—submission, layout, and printing all took time. They were nothing like those cheap, mass-produced penny stories, often riddled with typos and misprinted text that ran off the edge of the page, all printed on pulp paper so poor it tore after a few turns. When you didn't care about quality, speed naturally increased.
This made *Helen*'s prescience stand out even more. While other magazines were still recycling old plots and penny dreadfuls bathed everything in blood and horror, *Helen* had cleverly integrated vampire lore with high society, instantly elevating its aesthetic.
"How did she think of that?" Lucy marveled. "I thought the topic was way too niche when I first read it."
"So did I," Mrs. Orchard agreed, clearly impressed.
Now, the vampire had become a literary phenomenon—at least within the world of penny fiction. It was the hottest topic around.
One could imagine other magazine writers racking their brains trying to work this trendy trope into their own stories. It wasn't uncommon—after all, literature often followed the tides of the times.
Think back to when time-travel fiction first took off. The heroines were always elite talents—special forces, doctors—who, upon arrival in a new era, immediately became the center of attention. Later, slacker heroines became more popular; their stories shifted from world-changing to self-changing. And entertainment industry stories? They began with filming and acting, then turned to reality show plotlines.
And now *Helen* had leapt far ahead of the competition—or so thought Welles, author of *The Mystery of the Family*.
Though busy working on his current novel, Welles was not one to rigidly stick to formulas. He'd proven his instincts by quickly jumping on the "switched sons" trend and turning it into a successful work. *The Castle Magazine* saw a major sales boost from publishing it.
After seeing a vampire-themed advertisement for *Phantom Journey*, Welles was flooded with ideas. He only regretted being too busy with his novel to write something new.
Still, he secretly penned a vampire short story and submitted it to a penny fiction publisher. If his peers found out, they'd be shocked—most serious writers scorned penny fiction, calling it garbage and an insult to literature. They believed those bloody, crime-ridden tales would only corrupt readers. Many had written stories warning how boys, after reading penny fiction, would aspire to lives of crime.
But Welles didn't think so. He found those little booklets rather fun. His story was about a noble boy, abandoned by his family, who turned into a vampire and took revenge. Writing about the nobility was his forte, and the short story was surprisingly well received.
He was quite smug, proud of himself for mastering a new genre. But his satisfaction vanished the moment he read the latest chapter of *Helen*.
He'd never paid attention to *Ladies' Monthly* before. It wasn't until *The Castle Magazine* started sending him copies of *Helen* that he began subscribing, curious about the story's continuation.
Being a fellow serial magazine writer, he could easily calculate how far in advance a story must be submitted. And realizing *Helen* had introduced vampire nobles before the trend exploded, he couldn't help but feel deflated.
"Am I... a dated, out-of-touch author?" he confessed to his assistant—his younger sister.
As a fairly well-known writer, Welles had to manage many daily tasks—transcribing drafts, organizing materials, handling fan mail. Seeing how busy he was, his sister had volunteered to assist him. Naturally, he didn't skimp on paying her.
At the moment, she was reading the story intently and didn't respond.
Just as Welles was sighing in defeat, she looked up, her eyes sparkling. "I really like how this story describes the vampire noble…"
"Huh?" Welles snatched the magazine from her. "What's different? I mean, it's just vampires plus nobility. I *excel* at writing nobility—and you're saying you prefer someone else's nobles?!"
He was indignant.
"Yours are just too ordinary," she scoffed. "They're just regular people. This one—this is *fresh*."
After finishing the latest chapter of *Helen*, Welles had to admit—it was unique. And knowing it had been written *before* vampires became a trend made it all the more impressive. Reading it sparked a flood of inspiration in him—images of eerie castles, seemingly ordinary nobles sleeping in coffins, wielding unimaginable powers.
He suddenly felt a creative rush. He was already sketching out a new story about a vampire noble family entangled in blood, power, and secrets—an epic filled with thrilling twists and deadly ambition. He even had the impulse to scrap his current novel, *The Mystery of the Family*, and start over.
"Don't you dare," his sister warned, sensing his inner excitement. "Just finish this one first, okay? You can write the new one *after*."
Welles sighed. Having an assistant was nice. Having a sister was nice. But having both in the same person? Not always so great.