Chapter 3

I walked out of the Elder Council Hall. A full moon hung high in the night sky.

Before I could make it through the castle corridor, my handmaid came stumbling toward me in a panic.

"High Priestess! Something terrible has happened!"

"The Prince never destroyed the images!"

My eyes widened.

"What do you mean?"

The handmaid was sobbing so hard her whole body shook.

"The images of ghouls tearing out Lady Helen's fangs were copied onto hundreds of memory crystals and spread across the territory!"

"Everyone out there is saying she's a fraud, a lowborn impostor pretending to be noble..."

Something inside me snapped. My last thread of reason burned to ash.

I shoved past the handmaid and transformed into a streak of black mist, shooting toward the rooftop terrace.

Below the terrace, over a hundred lower-ranking vampires and guards had gathered, oblivious to the truth.

Ella stood at the front with a memory crystal in hand, doubled over with laughter.

"Everyone, come look! This is our High Priestess's mother, Lady Helen!"

"She used to be so high and mighty at banquets. She'd look down her nose at lower-ranking vampires and never shut up about 'the sanctity of pureblood honor.'"

She widened her eyes in a show of innocence.

"I heard one of her ancestors mingled with lowborn bat blood!"

"The woman who sneered at everyone else is the real mongrel. Isn't that hilarious?"

The crowd roared with laughter.

They pointed and jeered at my mother, who was chained to a stone pillar.

"Disgusting. And she called herself pureblood nobility."

"Look, she doesn't even have her fangs anymore. She's worse than a lowborn bat!"

My mother Helen sat slumped in the cold wind, dried blood covering her body.

She heard every vicious word. The proud back that had never bowed was trembling.

Ella pressed on relentlessly. "Oh, Lady Helen, don't tremble like that. You used to stand so tall when you said 'lowborn blood has no place in a pureblood banquet hall.' What happened? Can't stand straight anymore?"

"Shut your mouth!"

I shouted. Shadow power erupted around me and hurled the loudest hecklers several yards backward.

Arthur stepped out of the shadows and strolled toward Helen, barely sparing her a glance.

He turned to me as if his judgment were self-evident. "Serena, there are real questions about your mother's bloodline. Ella isn't wrong. If Helen is impure, why should a few taunts matter?"

My blood ran cold.

His handsome face showed nothing but weary contempt, as if this were an ordinary domestic nuisance.

"Your mother has offended plenty of people over the years. A few words from the crowd is hardly unreasonable. Go back to your room. Don't make a scene."

"Arthur, how could you?" My voice shook.

Helen shook her head. "Serena, don't waste your strength."

"Mother..."

My eyes burned as I reached for her, but she turned sharply away from my hand.

"I am pureblood. I have lived eight centuries. I will not let filth humiliate me."

"And I will not be the leash Arthur uses to control you."

Cold seized me. I lunged forward and caught her shoulders.

"No! I can get you out of here!"

My mother looked at me. Through her clouded eyes, a final trace of pride and resolve shone through.

"My child, purebloods do not survive by crawling."

At that moment, the first sliver of golden dawn split the eastern horizon.

The sun rose swiftly.

Before I could react, my mother let out a piercing, keening cry.

"Mother, what are you doing? Stop!" My eyes went wide with horror.

It was the sign of a blood core igniting.

Her blood core was burning.

The thick silver chains shattered, link by link.

My mother broke free and stood tall.

Ella shrieked dramatically from the crowd. "Oh my! What does she think she's doing? Afraid of more truths coming out? Trying to run? Where's your dignity, Lady Helen!"

The surrounding vampires cried out and stumbled back.

Helen ignored them. She held my gaze for one last moment.

"Live. Then kill him."

Before the words had faded, she turned without hesitation.

She stepped into the sunlight.

"No!" A scream tore from my throat.

Sunlight swallowed her whole.

No screams. No struggle.

Her pureblood pride held her silent as the sun burned her to ash.

The ash drifted onto the scorching stone.

I threw myself into the deadly light.

"Mother... Mother..."

I knelt on the ground, desperately gathering the small pile of pale gray powder.

The sunlight carved into my skin like a thousand blades.

My arms blackened instantly, skin peeling and curling, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air.

I barely felt it. I curled around the ashes cradled against my chest.

"Serena! Are you insane? Do you want to burn to death?"

Arthur streaked toward me and used telekinesis to wrench me back into the shadows.

My hands were covered in ash. My crimson eyes locked onto him.

"Arthur... you promised to destroy those images."

He watched me unravel, frowned, and answered in the same sanctimonious tone.

"The images leaked by accident. A servant must have released them."

"How was I supposed to know her pride would make her kill herself?"

"If your mother had nothing to feel guilty about, why would a few words drive her to her death?"

An accident?

How convenient.

My son died. An accident.

My mother died. Also an accident.

I looked at this man I had loved for a hundred years and let out a quiet, hollow laugh.

"Arthur, one day I will flay the skin from your bones and let you know what it feels like to turn to ash under the sun!"