Alexander walked into the room prepared for him. Everything was perfectly arranged — the furniture aligned with precision, the faint scent of sandalwood lingering in the air. He removed his royal robe and laid it neatly on the couch. Just as he began to unbutton his cuffs, a knock echoed from the door.
He opened it to find a maid standing timidly in the doorway, her head bowed so low her chin nearly touched her chest.
"Your Majesty, I— I am here to tend to your needs," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear.
It wasn't surprising. The rumors surrounding him were enough to make even the bravest souls quake — tales of his merciless nature, his piercing gaze, and his thirst for blood. For a human, especially one as fragile and spineless as her, standing before the King of Noct must have felt like standing before death itself.
"You may leave," Alexander said coldly.
The girl's lips parted as if to speak, but before she could utter another word, he closed the door in her face. He exhaled quietly, turned toward the adjoining chamber, and entered the bath. The cold water cascading over his skin did little to calm his thoughts.
Afterwards, he dressed in a simple black trouser and a loose white shirt, a sharp contrast to his usual regal attire.
Stepping out of his room, he walked down the long, torch-lit corridor of the palace. The silence that followed his footsteps was almost reverent. When he reached the balcony overlooking the city, he paused.
Below him stretched the darkened expanse of Greenville, its streets illuminated by faint, flickering lanterns. Even in the cover of night, Alexander could see everything as clear as day.
The cold night breeze brushed against his face, tousling his black hair. He turned to the guard standing a few feet away.
"Get me a coat," he commanded.
The guard bowed his head immediately and disappeared into the hallway.
A rare moment of peace settled around Alexander. His gaze swept across the horizon, but his thoughts were far from calm. They wandered back to King Calum's words. Marry my daughter, he had said. The memory made Alexander's jaw tighten.
He scoffed under his breath. So, the old man had planned this from the start using politics and alliances as chains to bind him. Marry his daughter? Ridiculous. He'd rather not think about it.
And then, unbidden, a different face came to mind
Serena.
He had brought her to the palace without understanding why, and now she haunted his every waking thought. There was something about her that stirred the very core of his being. Her scent lingered in his mind like a forbidden song, her blood — potent and intoxicating, had changed him, made him stronger. She was a mystery, one he couldn't afford to lose until he uncovered the truth of what she was.
"How long are you going to keep standing there?"
The sharp tone of his voice broke the silence. Alexander's midnight-black eyes turned toward the entrance of the balcony, where a slender figure stood partially hidden by the shadows.
"Your Majesty, I didn't think you'd notice me," came the soft reply.
Princess Amelia stepped into the moonlight, her gown glimmering faintly under its silver glow. In her hands was a neatly folded coat, his coat. She approached him slowly, the faint click of her heels echoing against the marble floor. Standing beside him, she dared not close the distance too much.
Seeing him up close, her breath caught. His beauty was ethereal, sharp, commanding, and devastating. No man in all of Greenville could compare to him. His aura alone was enough to draw her in and terrify her all at once.
Alexander's eyes drifted toward the coat she held. "Why would you bring that? Since when do you run errands for me, Amelia?" His tone was calm but carried no warmth.
Her lips curved into a small, practiced smile. "I couldn't sleep," she said softly. "I decided to take a stroll and happened to pass by. I heard you tell the guard to fetch a coat, so I thought — why not bring it myself? Perhaps keep you company, if you don't mind."
Pretty little liar, he thought.
He took the coat from her hands without another word and slipped it on. The heavy fabric draped elegantly over his frame, the collar brushing his jaw. Amelia's gaze lingered longer than she should have. He turned his head, catching her in the act. A blush immediately crept up her cheeks.
Judging from her attire, it was clearly a chilly night, yet she wore something light, revealing just enough to be intentional. What a coincidence, he mused silently.
"I know I'm breathtaking," he said flatly, "but can you stop staring so deeply at me?"
Her eyes widened. "Forgive me, King Alexander," she murmured, embarrassment flooding her face. She hadn't expected such blunt arrogance, though deep down, she couldn't deny the truth in his words.
"You should go back inside," he said after a pause, his gaze sweeping briefly over her bare shoulders. "It's cold."
Her heart fluttered unexpectedly. He cares for me, she thought. The idea sent warmth through her chest. There was something about him that pulled her in — the way he spoke, the commanding grace of his posture, the subtle intoxication of his scent. His eyes, dark and unending, glimmered faintly beneath the moonlight.
Amelia cleared her throat softly. "Did my father… say anything?" she asked, carefully choosing her words.
Alexander turned his gaze toward her, expression unreadable. "Your father said many things," he replied evenly. "Which part do you mean?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Did he make any mention of me?"
A brief silence followed, heavy enough to make her fidget.
"Thought so," he finally said, his tone cool. "The king is eager to form an alliance."
That was all he offered, but from the corner of his eye, he noticed the way her face brightened, the subtle gleam of hope, the way she tried to suppress her smile but failed.
She turned, leaning lightly against the balcony railing. "And what is your reply?" she asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and fear.
"I'll think about it," he replied immediately.
Her smile widened, unable to contain itself this time. She was about to speak again when Alexander's deep voice cut her off.
"I've had a tiresome journey," he said curtly. "I need to rest."
Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the corridor. The spark that had filled the air vanished with him, leaving only his lingering scent , a mix of cold steel and something darker, sweeter.
Amelia's chest rose and fell in quiet disappointment. She lingered for a moment longer, her fingers brushing the railing where he had stood.
Even in rejection, the Vampire King had a way of leaving her breathless.
Finally, she drew in a deep breath and turned away, heading back to her chamber. Tonight, at least, she would sleep peacefully comforted by the thought that King Alexander would think about their marriage.