Chapter 3

Half trapped between wakefulness and slumber, I felt someone brush my hair with gentle tenderness, a scalding tear spilling down my cheek.

“Aurora… if none of this tragedy had ever befallen us, how different everything would be.”

It was Lazarus. Yet when I forced my eyes open, there was no one in sight.

Servants dragged me to the open courtyard. Merfolk are born to dread sunlight, and I was already worn thin, clinging to the last embers of life.

At my arrival, Isolde curled her lips into a cloying, feigned smile.

“Aurora, would you care for some food?”

Lazarus had one arm loosely around her. Watching me shrink from the sun, he lifted his foot as if to strike me with brutal force, yet he dulled most of his strength the moment it neared my flesh. Still, his boot crashed into my unhealed wound.

Warm blood seeped through my robes in an instant. Lazarus’s eyes narrowed sharply. He tore off his black coat and tossed it over me in a rush, masking his flustered disquiet beneath a frigid tone.

“Isolde cannot bear the sight of blood. Cover yourself at once.”

Isolde tossed a chunk of raw meat and withered greens at my feet. Without hesitation, I tore off a mouthful. My sense of smell had faded almost entirely, leaving me unaware of what flesh I ate. Her voice curled with venomous amusement.

“Does it taste good? This is mermaid flesh, a most potent remedy for nourishment.”

My movements froze. I stared blankly at Isolde, her grin widening cruelly, churning revulsion in my stomach.

“Oh no, my shoe!”

I stiffened on the spot. Violent, instinctive nausea crashed over me, and the bile I retched soiled her footwear. Guards surged forward at once, striking me hard across the face.

The air around Lazarus turned icy. Sorrow and pity flashed first in his eyes, only to be smothered by hatred in the next breath.

“Ungrateful wretch. If you refuse to eat, feed all of this to the castle hounds.”

Isolde let out a soft, false, gentle laugh.

“Aurora merely lacks an appetite. Why not let her accompany me to the chamber to aid my arcane craft? It shall serve as her apology.”

Lazarus gave a perfunctory consent, his tone cold and dismissive, utterly devoid of care. “You are far too kind, always coddling those who mean nothing.”

The moment Lazarus departed, Isolde’s amiable mask shattered. “My forbidden curse sorcery brooks no prying eyes. Go wait for me in the underground dungeon of the castle.”

I said not a word, and walked silently toward the dark cells beneath the fortress.

A maid stepped forward with cold disdain, hurling several empty wooden buckets at my feet. Her gaze was laced with contempt, her tone sharp and biting.

“Wretched mermaid. Isolde’s cursed puppet ritual requires three full vats of fresh, pure merfolk essence and blood.”

“Use this blade. Not a single drop shall be spilled or wasted.”

My voice came thin and hoarse, drained of all strength. “Silver blades burn the very source of my merfolk bloodline.”

The maid let out a mocking sneer, ruthless and scornful. “You are in no position to bargain. What shred of nobility could a captive like you possibly possess?”

I fell silent, grasping the silver blade and slitting my wrist open.

Scarlet, scorching blood dripped steadily into the vessels.

I did not stop until my body turned ice-cold and my lips blanched a sickly bruised purple.

I leaned against the cold stone wall, sinking into a hollow stupor for a long while.

Just then, two servants passed by the dungeon door. Their hushed whispers drifted in, every word cutting deep into my ears.

“Isolde’s cursed puppet craft is dreadfully perilous. She hunted and drained countless lesser merfolk for pearl curse powder, merely to gather enough ritual materials.”

“Indeed. Once the puppet is complete, it will crush all rebels within the vampire clan, and drain this mermaid’s last breath entirely. Lowly foreign creatures are born to be offerings for our master’s sorcery.”

I stumbled wildly toward the courtyard. There, the corpses of my kin lay scattered at Isolde’s feet. She crushed their pearlescent cores beneath her heel with cold cruelty.

“Aurora, I’ve only just discovered… every mermaid’s pearl holds a unique hue of its own.”