Mother, I'm not getting married yet—just attending some ridiculous contest," Eira said with a teasing smile, wiping away her mother's tears. "And I promise to slack off. Maybe even trip during the dance rounds."
Queen Barbara let out a half-laugh, half-sob, her voice thick with emotion. "You better. Or I'll come to Tenebria myself."
Eira gave one last wave before climbing into the royal carriage. With a final neigh of the horses, the procession rolled away from the palace gates, her silhouette disappearing into the golden morning mist.
Just then, a scroll bearing the seal of Kyrogha arrived at the palace. One glance at its contents, and both Queen Barbara and Lady Calantha paled.
"Your Majesty," Queen Barbara whispered urgently. "What are we going to do about King Cassius? We've just terminated our end of the agreement."
The king sighed, rubbing his temple. "My hands were tied. I'll speak to him."
"But you know how reckless Cassius is," Lady Calantha added, her voice low.
"We can't afford to lose you, Balti," Queen Barbara said softly, voice trembling. "The kingdom can't... our children can't."
The rest of the palace remained blissfully unaware of the quiet storm brewing within its walls. The other mistresses stomped away, their children following, footsteps echoing like warnings on the marble floors.
---
Kingdom of Tenebria – The City of Shadows
The journey from Elyria to Tenebria took three and a half days. By the time Eira's carriage pulled into the capital, the tall towers of the Tenebrian palace rose like black fangs piercing the sky.
A large obsidian gate loomed ahead with a sign etched in shimmering silver: 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘓𝘈𝘊𝘒𝘞𝘖𝘖𝘋.
Eira shivered. The gate itself seemed to command authority, much less the castle—and the king—beyond it. One thing was certain: this place carries both blood and rage, peace and war.
The carriage rolled to a stop. Eira shifted her gaze from the gate to the scene outside. The courtyard buzzed with elegant chaos. Young women draped in jewels and silks strutted about like models in a royal fashion show. Some fluttered ornate fans, others whispered behind lace veils.
Eira blinked.
"Is this a contest for a crown or a couture pageant?" she muttered, adjusting her cloak.
She had done her research. Prince Derick wasn't one for frilly gowns or fawning flattery. He preferred the blade over bouquets, strategy over smiles. And definitely not girls fainting over the size of his boots.
"Milady," a cheerful maid called, approaching the carriage with a polite bow.
Eira smiled. "Lead the way."
"This will be your quarters during the contest," the maid said, guiding her into a modest yet elegant room.
Cassandra, ever the practical one, cleared her throat. "And the servant's quarters?"
"Oh! Right this way, please!" the maid said, bowing apologetically. She led Cassandra off while Eira collapsed onto the bed with a grateful sigh.
A nap was well earned.
---
Sunset Shenanigans
The evening sun cast amber hues across the palace. Eira, freshly awakened from her nap, wandered along the garden paths, her cloak trailing behind her.
Then she saw him.
That jawline. Those silver locks tumbling past his waist. His back was to her, arms clasped behind him, still as a statue carved from moonlight.
No mask this time. Just him—unmistakably.
Eira's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, great," she muttered. "Captain Broody returns."
She stomped toward him, kicking a pebble. It ricocheted off a tree. The tree flinched.
"Who would've thought we'd meet again?" she called sarcastically.
Derick turned slowly, one brow arched, red eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Who taught you to conceal your presence that well?"
"Oh, don't flatter me now. You might get stabbed again," she said, now sure—this was the silver-haired menace who'd nearly gotten her killed.
Derick tilted his head. "Still holding grudges? What are you doing here?" He raised a brow.
She flashed him a sugary smile and, without warning, drew her sword with a dramatic swoosh. "Just trying to finish what I started."
Derick blocked it effortlessly with the sheath of his own blade.
"Damn it, woman," he growled. "Are you always this violent on first meetings?"
"Technically, this is our second. You lived the first time. I'm trying to correct that error."
"I'm flattered." He gave a dry smile. "But unfortunately, vampires don't die that easily. Even from overly dramatic princesses with anger issues."
Eira gasped. "Anger issues? Oh, you did not just—"
"I just did."
They circled each other like cats, both smirking. He leaned in mockingly.
"You're here to win me over, huh? All this fuss just to become my bride?"
"Oh, please." Eira scoffed. "The king basically kidnapped me via decree. I'm just here for the free food."
"And the attempted murder," Derick added.
"That's dessert."
He laughed—a low, rich sound that irritated her more than it should have.
"You're really something," he said, crossing his arms. "What would you have done if you'd actually injured me?"
"Celebrate."
"Charming."
"Arrogant."
"Princess."
"Asshat."
Their banter continued, loud and unfiltered, until a maid appeared, flustered.
"Milady, His Majesty wishes to see you."
Eira gave Derick one last glare. "This isn't over, fang-boy."
Derick watched her walk away, amused.
"You seem unusually calm around her," came a new voice. Vladimir stepped into view, arms folded.
"She pulled a sword on me," Derick said.
"And you let her?"
"She didn't aim for the heart," he shrugged.
"Which means?"
"She has taste."
Vladimir shook his head. "You're definitely marrying that one."
Derick smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll let her chase me a little longer."
She mustn't know I'm the Crown Prince. Conceal this very well until the contest ends.
I feel she's the one Father spoke of…
"But she's human. This isn't the first time she's raised a sword at me and I let it go. I don't know why, but... whatever it is, she's lucky," Derick said, gazing out the window.
Vladimir's eyes widened. "She raised a sword at you—and you let her go? Since when do you start letting people off that easily?" But then again didn't he just hear him say that before now."