Chapter 4

Elena's POV

On Clara's third day in the Prince's domain, Adrian held a small banquet for her.

Ostensibly, it was to introduce her to vampire society.

In truth, everyone understood what it really was: Adrian announcing to all of them that Clara was someone who mattered to him, that no noble had better dare to slight her or gossip about her.

But how could a single banquet hold back the talk?

A human girl.

No bloodline.

No family.

She didn't even understand the most basic vampire etiquette, which meant she was bound to become a target of ridicule.

Except that in my last life, having just thrown away my dignity before the Elders begging Adrian to come back, I had attended this banquet too, and absorbed most of the mocking looks for her.

Back then, only recently cast aside, I still refused to let go.

I wore my most magnificent gown and the ruby earrings he'd given me at our engagement, and I sat stubbornly in that banquet hall.

I thought that if I was only dignified enough, noble enough, I could make Adrian remember who truly belonged at his side.

But that whole evening, he tended to Clara.

Clara wasn't used to vampire fare.

He had the blood wine taken away and replaced it with juice she could drink.

She was frightened by the nobles' stares.

So he stood in front of her and coldly warned everyone to mind themselves.

In the end, he took her hand and led her out of the hall himself.

And I sat where I was, listening to countless laughs pitched low all around me.

They said Elena had lost to a human.

They said childhood sweethearts meant nothing, that the one Adrian loved was never her after all.

Back then I gripped my wine glass until my nails nearly cut into my palm.

I told myself I hadn't lost yet.

But now, living it again, I only saw how pitiful and foolish that version of me had been.

Before the banquet, my maid came to ask which gown I wanted.

I pointed offhandedly to a deep blue dress.

Simple, dignified, nothing to fault.

The maid hesitated.

"Miss, won't you wear any jewelry?"

I glanced at the vanity.

Most of those pieces were tied to Adrian.

He had given me earrings.

A brooch.

And many beautiful ruby necklaces.

In the past, every time I attended a banquet, I would carefully choose one of them to wear.

As if carrying some trace of him on me would tell everyone that he and I were still the perfect match.

Now, thinking back, there was really no need.

"No."

I said.

"Tonight isn't my stage. I won't steal anyone's thunder."

The maid lowered her head and didn't press further.

The banquet hall was bright with light.

By the time I arrived, Adrian was already standing in the center of the crowd with Clara.

Clara wore a white dress.

It was a color vampires rarely chose.

Standing among a crowd of pale, coldly beautiful vampires, she looked especially fragile.

Adrian stood at her side.

He bent his head slightly, listening patiently to whatever she said.

His posture gentle, careful.

The nobles around them watched with varied expressions.

Some curious.

Some scornful.

Some simply waiting for the spectacle.

I took a glass of wine and went to sit in a corner.

I didn't go to disturb them.

A short distance away, a few noble girls clustered together, talking under their breath.

"That's Clara?"

"She reeks of a lowborn human. She wouldn't even be fit to serve as my blood slave."

"And the Prince's heir really dissolved his engagement for her."

"Miss Elena is here too."

Their gazes fell on me.

They were probing, bright with the thrill of watching a scene about to unfold.

In my last life, looks like that would have mortified me.

This life, I only lowered my eyes and drank.

The wine carried a faint scent of blood.

It was stronger than anything from the human world.

It was colder, too, and it settled me better.

Before long, music rose in the hall.

By vampire custom, the host opened the first dance by inviting the most honored lady present.

Every time before, Adrian had invited me.

We'd grown up together so long that we knew each other without a single word of prompting.

He knew the moment I would turn.

He knew the moment I would lift my hand.

I had once believed that wordless understanding was the proof of us that no one could ever replace.

But tonight, he took Clara's hand.

Clara was visibly flustered.

She said in a small voice:

"Adrian, I can't dance."

"It's all right."

He murmured.

"Just follow me."

The words made my fingers go still.

He had once said the very same thing to me.

At my first ball, I was so nervous I nearly stepped on my own hem.

He had taken my hand and said:

"Elena, don't be afraid. Just follow me."

I let those words make my heart race for years.

So it turned out the same line could be given just as easily to someone else.

So it turned out the same line was so worthless after all.

Clara followed him onto the floor.

At first it went smoothly enough.

But noble dances are complex, the rhythm quick.

Before the music was half over, she had missed two steps.

On the third, she stumbled straight into Adrian's chest, her face gone white.

Faint laughter rippled through the room.

Clara's eyes reddened in an instant.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice trembled.

"I really can't learn it."

Adrian frowned and swept his gaze across the crowd.

The laughter stopped at once.

He steadied Clara, his voice turning colder.

"That's enough for tonight."

The music cut off abruptly.

An awkward silence filled the hall.

Several Elders already wore very dark expressions.

A vampire banquet was not some game from the human world.

The Prince's heir, cutting a dance short in front of everyone for the sake of a human girl.

This was neither thoughtfulness nor youthful devotion.

It was simply disrespect.

Clara clearly sensed the shift in the air.

She panicked further and clutched at Adrian's sleeve.

"Did I do something wrong again?"

"No."

Adrian said at once.

"They're simply too harsh."

But as he said it, his gaze passed over the crowd and landed on me.

I was lowering my head, cutting into the red meat on my plate.

Feeling his eyes, I looked up at him.

He was watching me.

There was a familiar meaning in his eyes.

In the past, whenever a banquet slipped out of control, I was the one who smoothed it over for him.

I would rise with a glass in hand.

I would draw everyone's attention away with the right words.

I would manage the Council on his behalf.

And turn his breach of etiquette into something that could be forgiven as an honest slip.

I had done it too many times in my last life.

So many that even he came to take it for granted.

But this time, I only set down my knife and fork and gave him a small nod.

Then lowered my eyes again.

I would not clean up his mess.

I would not be the one who always understood, ever again.

Adrian's face sank, bit by bit.

Clara was still crying quietly.

He had no choice but to lead her out of the hall.

The moment the doors closed, the talk could no longer be held back.

The Council members' faces were like iron.

Someone came over to me, his tone cool.

"Miss Elena, do you really not intend to talk some sense into Lord Adrian?"

I raised my eyes to him.

"Lord Adrian and I have already ended our engagement."

"His affairs are not mine to meddle in."

The noble was taken aback.

He probably hadn't expected me to refuse so flatly.

I stood and smoothed my skirt.

"Excuse me."

When I stepped out of the hall, the night wind was cold.

At the end of the long gallery, I saw Adrian.

Clara was no longer with him.

He stood alone at a window, a glass of blood-red champagne held between his fingers, not a drop touched.

I was about to leave when he suddenly turned and looked at me.

"Elena."

I stopped.

"Lord Adrian."

He frowned.

"Do you have to call me that?"

"We've ended the engagement."

"There should be some distance in how I address you now."

He looked at me, irritation pressed beneath his eyes.

"You could easily have helped me tonight."

I watched him quietly.

So he truly believed I ought to help him.

Even after he ended our engagement in front of everyone for Clara.

Even after he had just stood with Clara in the center of the floor and given another woman every bit of the tenderness once meant for me alone.

After leaving my heart in tatters, after grinding my dignity into the floor, he still believed that whenever he needed me, I should step forward.

"Why?"

I asked.

Adrian was startled.

"What?"

"Why should I help you?"

At the question, his face finally changed.

I looked at him, my voice calm.

"You chose Clara."

"So you should bear the consequences of that choice yourself."

"Not every mess is mine to clean up for you."

Adrian's thin lips pressed tight.

It was a long time before he said, low:

"You weren't like this before."

I gave a small laugh. "Before, I was your fiancée. Now I'm not."

"When someone's place changes, their heart changes too."

He looked at me, and for a moment his gaze went blank.

Perhaps he was finally realizing I wasn't throwing a tantrum.

That I truly had no intention of turning back.

But he still refused to believe it.

He only said:

"Elena, I know you're still angry."

"But Clara doesn't understand any of this."

"There's no need to target her like this."

A sudden weariness washed over me, along with a strange bafflement.

"I'm not targeting her."

"I simply stopped helping you."

With that, I walked past him.

This time, he didn't stop me.

For a long while, there was no sound behind me.

It wasn't until I had nearly reached the stairs that I heard him call out, low:

"Elena."

I didn't look back.

And he didn't go on.

The candlelight wavered in the gallery.

My shadow fell across the floor, stretched long.

In my last life I had always walked toward Adrian's retreating back.

I followed it so long I nearly forgot who I was.

This life, I was the one who walked away first.

And he stood where he was.

Tasting, for the first time, what it was to be left behind.