Our attention shifts to Maximillian, standing at the center of the room. Upon the second chime of the glass, he grins. Emma and Tristan stand beside him, surrounded by close relatives.
"Good evening. Before we commence, I'd love to give thanks to everyone present tonight and also to the ones who have accompanied us these past days. In the name of my bloodline, you are all welcome. Have a joyous night."
The crowd converges, moving to congratulate Emma and Tristan.
I stand apart, unable to share in their joy. Accepting the impending change is daunting, terrifying. Sensing my discomfort, Xavier escorts me to a banquet table in the dining hall. The waitresses bow in deference.
Each seat bears a label. For a moment, I fear I am an uninvited guest, but Stefani appears just in time to guide Xavier and me to our seats. Xavier remains silent as we sit, his sudden mood shift worrying me. Perhaps no vampire is truly emotionally stable.
Himley takes the seat to my right, Xavier to my left. Aldaire sits across from me, with Superior Jonathan opposite Xavier and Stefani opposite Himley. Maximillian occupies the end of the table nearest us.
"Is everything alright?" I inquire.
He snaps out of his trance and smiles. Leaning towards me, his breath fans against my neck. "Yes. Are you better now?"
"Perfectly fine!"
He takes the golden paper bearing my name and tucks it into his coat pocket.
Caught off guard by his actions, I freeze. "What are you doing?"
"Taking it for future reference," he shrugs nonchalantly.
When the table falls silent, Tristan rises. "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you enjoy your meal."
Immediately, the clatter of cutlery against plates fills the room, accompanied by laughter and conversation.
Under the veil of my thick lashes, I steal glances at my nearest neighbors. Stefani is engaged in conversation with Aldaire. She is practically swooning over him, and if he isn't enjoying it, he isn't showing it. He displays no emotion about their conversation other than disinterest. He looks at me in a way that causes a pang of pain, a feeling only I am privy to.
"So Aldaire...," a voice echoes across the hall, originating from a figure seated three chairs away from him, "...how was your journey to the realm of humans?"
The once silent crowd pivots in our direction. Despite the sudden attention, Aldaire's gaze remains fixed on me. I yearn for the stone floor to swallow me whole. He is the architect of this chaos.
"It was invigorating. Quite a refreshing and exhilarating experience."
"Did you explore new hunting techniques? I've heard they are far more liberal compared to us."
"Indeed, they are. The land is teeming with life; a missing soul rarely raises an eyebrow."
The man chuckles heartily. "Aha! I might consider a sojourn there then."
As the crowd joins in the laughter, a wave of repulsion washes over me. Has Aldaire been hunting in my world all these years? The injustice of it all is staggering. Here, humans are protected, but in the other realm, he is free to act as he pleases. The table soon returns to its previous state of normalcy, the attention shifting back to the couple.
I manage a strained smile at Xavier, my gaze dropping to my untouched food. I prod at it, imagining it to be Aldaire's head crashing against the stone floor.
"You've attracted attention," Xavier whispers in my ear, leaning closer.
I glance up to find he's right. They scrutinize me unabashedly.
"What did I do?" I ask him, my voice trembling.
"You are donning Cecile's cape. It piques their curiosity."
I'm acutely aware that not everyone is pleased with my presence. However, Xavier does his best to assure me that all will be well. A few others, mostly women who share Stefani's haughty demeanor, make their displeasure known publicly. By the time the feast concludes, I long to vanish into thin air.
"One final toast," Stefani rises from her chair, her gaze sweeping across the room. On cue, the servers circulate, distributing wine glasses to each guest. I've witnessed this scene before, and it ended in disaster. History is about to repeat itself.
I turn to Xavier for reassurance. "What's that?"
"Tradition."
I nod in understanding, but can't shake off the thought that the crimson liquid they're about to consume is real blood.
Stefani continues, "Here is to marriage. Long live love!"
"Long live love!" the crowd echoes.
My gaze remains fixed on Aldaire, who appears disinterested. As they all tilt their cups in unison to drink, I watch them from behind the rim of my cup. I freeze. Aldaire's eyes slowly darken to a pitch black. The veins around his eyes and temples bulge, and the sight of fangs ripping through their mouths sends tremors of fear coursing through me. My eyes scan the line of people standing; most wear the same look of enjoyment as they savor the blood. Finally, I steal a glance at Xavier and Himley, who wear the same spine-chilling mask.
My hand quivers, the glass slipping from my grasp. I dare not raise my gaze, fearful of the sight that awaits.
"Are you alright?" Xavier's voice is laced with concern.
I recoil from his touch.
"Blood?" Himley inquires.
I muster the courage to peek. Stefani's face is a mix of surprise and amusement. "What a disaster!"
My eyes flicker to Aldaire, who wears an expression of understanding.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to clean up." I retreat from the room, my courage deserting me.
Leaning against the sink, a sigh of fear escapes my lips. I am ill-prepared for this game. Hearing footsteps approaching, I hastily wash my face before returning to the stain on my dress. My efforts are in vain; the more I try to remove it, the worse it becomes.
"What a mess. There was no intention of upsetting you," Stefani prattles.
Anger surges within me, but I refuse to grant her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. "It's fine. Accidents happen," I retort with a forced grin, continuing to scrub at the blood, despite knowing it's futile.
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't do anything, did you?" If I hadn't been forewarned about Stefani's cunning nature, I might have fallen for her insincere apology.
I rub her shoulders, wishing I could break her instead. "I'll be fine. It's just a stain on a dress, no big deal."
"Great! It's time for the transformation. Won't you join us?"
I shake my head. How could I possibly witness such a thing? Yet, a part of me is intrigued.
Aldaire awaits me by the door, a hint of softness in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"I'll survive. Aren't you mad at me now?"
"I see no reason to be," he replies, his voice echoing overhead.
Our footsteps merge with the echo of the others following. He places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me inside first. In this room, only those of royal blood are welcomed.
I glance up at him, suddenly feeling out of place. "You are with me," he explains.
The room is divided by a white partition. On the other side lies a bed, chains and shackles affixed to the wall, and a solitary chair. My heart sinks as Tristan enters, hand in hand with Emma. Her palm is swathed in a white cloth, her eyes swollen and fearful. I've never seen her so broken.
Unconsciously, I grip Aldaire's arm tightly. Witnessing this arcane ritual sends tremors through my knees. Maximillian enters, followed by a young, plain-looking woman.
Emma shares a final kiss with Tristan before leaving the room. She joins us, standing beside her mother who is alone. She trembles, but no more tears fall from her eyes.
In the room, Tristan recites his oaths while the girl whispers. Blood drips from his palm into a golden cup, his eyes locked on Emma. Max follows suit. There's an undeniable connection that lends her courage. I can't fathom witnessing your beloved's final moments as a mortal, looking into his eyes before he meets his end. It's a cruel fate, if you ask me.
For the first time, I find solace in Aldaire's presence beside me.
Even as Maximillian binds him in chains, he submits willingly. Memories of the attack flash before my eyes. After what feels like an eternity, Maximillian draws closer. He rests his forehead against Tristan's, and before I can process the scene, he sinks his fangs into Tristan's jugular. Tristan screams, a sound eerily reminiscent of my own cries. He struggles to pull away, and I realize the purpose of the chains. Max withdraws, accepts the knife offered by the girl, and plunges it into Tristan's heart.
I recoil in horror, my voice trapped in my throat. I survey the room; no one else seems as disturbed as I am. "I have to go," I manage to whisper.
Aldaire nods and releases my hand.
I sprint towards the door, the bitter taste of bile lingering in my mouth as I lean against the wall. I yearn to erase the memory, but Tristan's tormented face haunts me.
I spin around at the sound of crunching gravel. My breath catches in my throat.
"Leizabeth, right?" he asks. It's the same handsome face I remember.
"If you aren't Lavyrle, then who are you?"
He chuckles. "I don't have a name, sweetheart."
"What do you want?"
He toys with the stones in his hands. "I thought I'd never see you again, but here we are. What a coincidence. It's our destiny."
I take a step back, my hand searching for the door.
"I won't kill you, yet. First, I need the dagger I lent you for our little game. Where is it? Someone came yesterday, but it wasn't found in the cottage, which means only one other person can have it."
The girl in my room. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you do. Where is it?"
"I don't know."
His eyes darken. "Nonsense! I need you to find it and give it back."
The 'L' carved on the dagger signifies one thing - the initials of the owner. Lavyrle.
"No, you won't have it. This could be our only hope, our evidence."
"And do you think they'll believe a deserter who just appeared after many years?"
"Then what are you scared of?"
He hisses. I glance in the direction of approaching footsteps, but when I turn back, he's gone. I'm left wondering if this was all a hallucination.
I rush inside, hoping to find Aldaire and ask him about Cecile and the whereabouts of the dagger. He must have it, or we're in trouble. If he wasn't an apparition, it means we're being watched, and safeguarding our proof is of utmost importance.
It takes me a few moments to gather my courage and reenter the room. The spectators are already departing. Aldaire is nowhere to be found. I'm rooted to the spot as the memory of Tristan's demise replays in my mind. Inside the room, Emma is with Tristan. He's still chained to the wall as she observes him from a corner seat. Blood drips onto the floor, sending shivers down my spine. Soon, two men enter to help him down. Maximillian lays him on the bed, and she unties the veil to cover the sides. Unable to bear the sight any longer, I retreat to the hall where the ball is still in full swing.
Xavier crosses my path, his face etched with concern. "I heard you ventured into the room. How fare you?"
"I don't want to speak about it," I deflect, averting my gaze. "Where might the prince be?"
"I presumed he was with you. Why did you venture alone?"
"I was not alone. I departed when you know..." My words falter, the sentence left unfinished.
"I thought you would not wish to witness such a scene. I remained here for you," he offers.
A wave of relief washes over me. "I've never beheld such a spectacle before, curiosity got the better of me. I am simply relieved he'll awaken soon, or else I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
He grins, a twinkle in his eye. "May your dreams be sweet tonight, then."
Together, we embark on a search for Aldaire. I am on the verge of revealing the secret of the dagger, but Aldaire's request to keep the secret amongst the three of us and exclude others holds me back. Now that I am privy to my own tale, I must admit the fear of meeting my end in a foreign land looms large. Ensuring the dagger is in safe hands is paramount, or I fear I may never see the light of day again.
"I fear we shan't find them. They have a habit of vanishing together," Xavier muses.
"I suppose so. I shall return to my cottage, then. I thank you for your assistance."
As I turn to depart, he calls out to me. "Lady Leizabeth... My guards shall accompany you tonight. It's perilous, given the events of this morning."
My heart flutters. Such generosity is a rarity from Aldaire.