Bella made her way toward the main palace–the very place that haunted her. If not for the dull ache still lingering in her body, she might have convinced herself that everything that had happened was nothing but a nightmare: sneaking into the ball, getting caught, becoming a vampire's plaything, almost being strangled and raped by her brother–only to be saved by the same monster she had tried to escape.
And then there was Lumi. The memory of almost losing her last night was even more terrifying than death itself.
Her head throbbed faintly as she approached the front courtyard. Towering black horses–larger than any she had ever seen–stood harnessed to an elegant carriage, its polished frame gleaming with luxury. She could only imagine what the interior looked like.
Dragging her feet to a stop, Bella bowed first to her father, whose eyes widened slightly at the sight of her, and then to the vampire king, who barely spared her a passing glance. The two seemed deep in discussion, though from where she stood she could barely make out their words. The queen was nowhere in sight, and Marcus–thankfully–was also absent. She was quietly grateful; she wasn't ready to face him.
Damien's gaze finally returned to her, his crimson eyes scanning her from head to toe.
"No luggage?" he asked simply.
Bella blinked, caught off guard. Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment. Her wardrobe was pitifully small–only three dresses in total–and she was already wearing the most presentable of them.
"Um… I don't have many clothes," she muttered. "So I left the rest for Lumi."
"I can see that," Damien replied dryly, his eyes flicking over her current attire.
"That's unfortunate for a princess," he added, his tone dripping with disdain. "I didn't think the Kingdom of Vapour had fallen so low that it couldn't afford proper clothing for its own princess."
His gaze shifted to King William, whose face tightened into an awkward smile. He hadn't expected the vampire to discover her identity–let alone accept her company after rejecting the earlier offer to take her as a gift.
"No wonder she begged to come with me," Damien lied smoothly, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
Bella's eyes widened in disbelief. Begged? He had threatened her! How had that twisted into her pleading to go with him?
"We were unaware of my youngest daughter's decision to follow you," the king said quickly, his tone overly polite. "We had little time to prepare. Please forgive our oversight."
He even smiled–softly, almost fondly–as he looked at Bella. If that wasn't enough to shock her, his next words certainly were.
"Come here, daughter," he said warmly stretching his hand towards her.
Goosebumps prickled down her arms as she walked toward him, forcing a polite smile. "Father," she greeted, bowing stiffly.
"My youngest daughter has always been in delicate health," the king continued with an easy chuckle. "Keeping her within the castle was for her own safety, of course. So it's no wonder she's eager to leave these palace walls. Please, Your Majesty, take good care of her, she is our little treasure."
Bella had to fight not to gasp. Her stern, distant father–who had ignored her all her life–was suddenly putting on quite the performance.
"Prepare her belongings," the king ordered loudly, gesturing to a servant who immediately scurried away to obey. The man looked almost relieved that the vampires would soon be gone and the king's unpredictable orders would finally stop.
"Of course," Damien replied smoothly. "I'll take good care of her." Then, with a faint, knowing smile, he added, "Had I known her health was so fragile, I would have gone easier on her last night."
The meaning in his tone was deliberately suggestive.
King William laughed heartily, his eyes crinkling in amusement. So my daughter isn't as useless as I thought, he thought clearly pleased. Perhaps I've underestimated her.
Bella's face flushed crimson as she glared at the vampire, mortified. Nothing of the sort had happened, but she could see that Damien was enjoying the misunderstanding far too much. He was letting it linger intentionally–of that, she was sure, and her shameless father seems to care even little that his unmarried daughter's reputation is being damaged.