Serenya tried not to suffocate under his gaze, the intensity of his blood-red eyes more focused on her than the food spread before him. The candlelight danced across the polished surface of the table, catching the rim of the goblet Zareth held with effortless grace. He brought the ruby liquid to his lips, and Serenya found herself freezing.
His tongue peeked out, licking the wine—or whatever vampiric drink it was—from his lips with slow, deliberate sensuality. She looked away, cheeks flooding with heat. Why did he always do that? This Emperor was such a seductor. It was maddening.
"What's got you so red?" Zareth asked casually, the deep timbre of his voice coiling around her like silk and thorns. He took another slow sip from the goblet before leaning toward her, forcing her to retreat into the back of her chair.
"The food is... spicy," she blurted without thinking.
Zareth chuckled darkly. "Is it?" he asked, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Interesting. Because I don't recall Nytherian cuisine ever being 'spicy.'"
He reached over and scooped a bite of her food using the same spoon she'd been using, his crimson gaze never leaving her face as he tasted it.
"It's not," he confirmed smugly. "So tell me again, Serenya—what's got you blushing so adorably?"
Her eyes widened in embarrassment. "Can you at least stop staring at me? It's uncomfortable!"
"I can't," Zareth replied, leaning in so close she could feel the faintest brush of his breath on her cheek. "Not when you're this beautiful."
Her mouth parted in surprise, but no words came. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap from her chest. She was almost certain he could hear it. Her fingers trembled slightly on her lap, hidden from view.
Zareth's hand slid across the table and gently took hers. He brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles with slow precision, his mouth lingering longer than it should have. His eyes never left hers. Serenya's face turned an even deeper shade of red.
Why's my heart beating so fast , am I getting a heart malfunction ? she thought, desperately trying to calm her heartbeat.
As soon as he released her hand, she shot to her feet, intent on fleeing back to her room and hiding under every available layer of silk and shame. But Zareth caught her wrist easily, his grip firm but not painful.
"Walk with me," he said simply, already pulling her along before she could form a protest.
"Zareth, wait—" she started.
"I wasn't asking, little dove."
He dragged her through the grand hallway of the imperial palace, dark walls glinting with obsidian and gold. Serenya had barely noticed the architecture since arriving—too distracted by her inner turmoil and the suffocating pressure of court politics. But now, as she was forced to walk beside the Emperor himself, she couldn't help but notice the eerie beauty of it all. Tall windows framed a garden bathed in silver moonlight, casting jagged shadows from the spiked walls. The palace was exquisite... and terrifying.
Despite the fresh night air brushing against her cheeks, Zareth's gaze still bore into her side as though she were the only thing that existed.
Finally, they stopped at the far side of the palace gardens, where wild flora bloomed in silken petals of lavender, crimson, and obsidian black—each flower encased in menacing thorns.
"These were planted by my mother," Zareth said, stooping to pick one. The thorns, strangely, bent away from his touch, allowing him to pluck the flower effortlessly. "Aren't they beautiful?"
Serenya stepped closer, hesitant. "They're stunning… but wouldn't they be even more beautiful without the thorns?"
Zareth turned to her, his signature crooked smile curling on his lips as if her question amused him more than it should have. "That's the point, Serenya. Not every beautiful thing should be touched. These are poisonous. Lethal, even."
She blinked. Poisonous? Her gaze swept over the delicate-looking petals again, a chill sliding down her spine. What kind of Empress planted deadly flowers in a palace garden? The same kind who raised a man like Zareth, she guessed.
Before she could reflect further, a woman approached them. She had sharp, elegant features, deep crimson eyes, and wore a Nytherian corseted gown with silver-threaded embroidery. Two bangles gleamed on each wrist.
She looked to be in her early forties, but Serenya knew better than to trust appearances when it came to vampires.
"Serenya, this is Sabrina," Zareth muttered casually. "She's head of the palace women... at least until you take your rightful place."
Sabrina bowed gracefully. "Greetings, Your Highness."
Serenya nodded with hesitation.
"She'll take it from here," Zareth said, brushing his thumb along the back of Serenya's hand before placing a kiss there again. "She'll help you get acquainted with the palace. Since you'll be my Empress."
Serenya yanked her hand back, her chest tightening. "I don't want to be your Empress!"
Zareth didn't even flinch. Instead, his voice lowered to a velvet purr as he said, "I'm sure you do. You just don't know it yet."
He turned without waiting for a reply, his cloak billowing slightly as he walked away like a man certain the world would follow.
Serenya stood frozen, staring daggers at his retreating figure. Infuriating, arrogant, unbearable man.
"Shall we, Your Highness?" Sabrina asked gently.
Serenya clenched her fists and nodded stiffly.
As they began walking down the stone path, Serenya couldn't stop her mind from spinning.
I need to get out of here.
"Zareth is overbearing," Sabrina commented lightly, her voice holding the warmth of someone trying to be kind. "But trust me, this is the longest I've seen him this interested in anyone. Well, anyone after his mother."
Serenya glanced at her sideways. "But I don't want to be here. Is there any way you can help me escape?"
Sabrina actually chuckled, placing a hand lightly over her lips as they walked. "I'm afraid not, dear. Even if you managed to escape the palace, the Emperor would burn half the empire to the ground just to get you back. He's possessive. Obsessive, even."
Serenya's heart dropped. There was no escape?
She forced a small nod and looked ahead, though her insides twisted.
So I'm stuck here… with him?
The chill of the night bit at her skin, but it was nothing compared to the dread curling slowly in her chest.
This was no good news.
Did it mean she was stuck with the Emperor forever?