The woman walked sharply, her heels striking the polished black marble like a declaration of war. Her two daughters trailed behind, their gowns flowing like bloodied silk and expressions carved from ice. A man accompanied them, silent and sharp-featured, his presence offering nothing but disdain. The scent of ancient perfume, heavy with crushed roses and aged venom, clung to them.
Maltheira's eyes, the color of old wine, swept over Serenya with contempt, studying her as one might a stain on pristine linen. Then her eyes snapped to Zareth, cold and condescending.
"I heard you killed a councilor," she said smoothly, venom in every syllable, "and all… just because of a human?"
A crooked smile tugged at Zareth's lips. Oh, how he had waited for this. His obsidian eyes shimmered with cruel amusement. The sun above was beginning to set, staining the sky a bruised gold, and a raven cawed from one of the palace spires like it was echoing his dark glee.
"Meet my lovely little dove," Zareth said, his voice silken and mocking, "and wife-to-be—Serenya."
He deliberately placed a hand at the small of Serenya's back. "Serenya, this is my distant aunt, Maltheira, and her equally distant offsprings."
His emphasis on distant sliced through the air like a blade. Serenya could feel the tension thickening. Even the breeze dared not whisper.
Sorrelith, the youngest daughter, gave Serenya a fleeting glance before addressing Zareth.
"Greetings, cousin," she murmured with a curt bow.
Zareth said nothing. Instead, he tilted his head back, eyes fixed on the sky as if her presence bored him. His locs fell back, revealing the razor-sharp perfection of his jaw and the cruel beauty of his mouth. His silence was calculated—an insult disguised as detachment.
But Maltheira wasn't one to be ignored.
"I asked you a question, Zareth," she snapped. "You can't just bring in anyone to be Empress—especially not a human. Your mother would've never wanted this."
Zareth chuckled. It was not warm. It was not kind. It was the laugh of a man who had scorched cities for amusement.
"That's rich," he drawled, turning his eyes to her slowly. "Coming from someone who plotted to poison me the very night my mother died."
Maltheira stiffened, but he didn't give her the satisfaction of silence.
"I'm a progressive vampire, aunt," he said, as though speaking to a child. "Meaning I don't need to dig into the crypt for a suitable vampiress to continue my bloodline. Serenya will be your Empress. Get used to it."
Serenya felt the glare of every woman present pierce into her. It was the kind of gaze that could strip flesh from bone. She shifted uncomfortably, wanting nothing more than to vanish.
Maltheira's eyes narrowed, fury simmering beneath her refined exterior. Her hands were clenched at her sides, pale fingers trembling.
"The vampire kingdoms will revolt. They will retaliate. You—"
"I would love to see them try," Zareth cut in, voice dropping like ice.
A dramatic pause. Then, with an air of exaggerated hospitality, he added, "I anticipated your arrival, dear aunt. Had your wing cleaned and scented". His fingers curled around Serenya's hand, lifting it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly. Her face flamed with heat.
"My wife-to-be and I were about to take a stroll when you so graciously stormed in," he said smoothly. "So if you'll excuse us—"
But Velmira, the eldest daughter, stepped forward, her voice tight."Why not the room opposite yours? You let me sleep there the last time."
Among her siblings, Zareth had treated Velmira with slight favor. But even that came with terms.
"That room," Zareth said, tilting his head, "has been given to Serenya. We'll need some… privacy."
Then he leaned in closer and whispered, loud enough for all to hear:"Unless, of course, you're curious to hear her scream every night. How naughty of you, Mira."
Serenya's face went scarlet, her hand tightening on her dress as if to hide her embarrassment. The scandalous implications hung in the air like a guillotine.
Without waiting for a reply, Zareth turned and began walking, pulling Serenya along by the hand.
Behind them, Velmira stood frozen, her fists clenched and face burning with shame.
"This doesn't look like just one of his women," she muttered.
Sorrelith hissed beside her. "We thought he wasn't interested in having a woman. That one of us could become Empress. But now… that dream might be over before it began."
Maltheira stared at Zareth's retreating back, lips thinned to a slash. She wasn't going to let that happen.
Serenya walked beside Zareth, heart still hammering in her chest. The quiet between them was thick with tension.
"You shouldn't have said that," she finally whispered. "We both know nothing like that will happen."
A slow, crooked smile formed on his lips.
"Yet."
She froze. He stopped too, turning to face her with that maddening smirk.
"What… what do you mean by yet?" she asked, voice cracking slightly.
"You didn't think I'd make you my Empress just so you could sit beside me on the throne, did you?" he murmured, his voice like smoke, curling into her mind. "You'll be my wife, Serenya. And of course… I'll want to be on you every single night."
Her mouth parted, eyes wide in horror. The Emperor was truly shameless.
"You can't just go around speaking so vulgar!" she hissed, stepping back.
"Why not?" he said, taking a step closer. "I'm only saying it to the woman who will share my bed, my power, and my crown."
She opened her mouth to retort, then promptly shut it again.
"This isn't how you court a woman!" she blurted, cheeks blazing.
Zareth's expression shifted. His eyes darkened, narrowing with predatory interest. In a swift movement, he stepped into her space, snaked a hand around her waist, and dipped his head.
Before she could react, his lips brushed against hers—soft, fleeting, but electric. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught. Her mind blanked.
Then he pulled away just as quickly.
"This is how I court women, Serenya," he murmured against her lips. "So you'd better prepare yourself."
He stepped back with a satisfied smirk, watching her crumble like a house of cards.
Her hand flew to her lips as she struggled to regain her composure.
Oh no.
She was definitely not going to survive a week with this shameless, possessive, narcissistic, unbearable Emperor!.