Chapter 3

The next day, I returned the clan seal to the council clerk, along with a letter of resignation.

For ten years, all of the castle's business had gone through that seal, from the 13 Clans' invitations to the blood merchants' deliveries and the servants' monthly wages. The clerk held the seal and stared at it for a long time. "Your Grace, are you sure?"

"I'm sure. As of today, I'm no longer the lady of this castle."

On the fifth day, I canceled my private contract with the blood bank.

The castle's best blood supply was a deal I'd negotiated in my own name years ago. The contract named me alone and had nothing to do with the Vane family. That night, Orla's maid went to collect nourishing blood for Elias and came back empty-handed.

On the sixth day, I called in movers.

Ten years ago, I'd furnished the east wing myself. It was meant for the future heir. I'd chosen every tapestry and carved every blessing mark into the window lattices by hand. I took all of it, every last piece, and didn't touch a single thing of theirs.

That evening, Orla pushed open the door and found nothing but a bare, cold stone room. She stood in the doorway with Elias in her arms, her face whiter than the walls.

Alaric sent someone to demand an explanation. I sent my maid back with my answer. "I only took what was mine. If the duke thinks otherwise, he's welcome to bring evidence and take me before the clans."

He didn't send anyone a second time.

Over the next few days, the mood in the castle turned downright eerie.

All the servants and low-ranking vampires whispered among themselves. The way they looked at me changed from respect to pity, then to outright mockery.

In their eyes, without the Ward ring and the Progenitor blood oath, I was nothing but an abandoned wife who could be stripped of her title at any moment.

Orla had moved into the castle's most luxurious quarters in the east wing, the rooms that had been meant for the next heir.

Alaric spent most of every day with Orla and Elias, using the castle's most precious resources to nourish the frail half-pureblood boy.

And I no longer cared at all.

Apart from resting in my room and enduring the weakness from the severing, I spent all my energy sorting out my own assets.

For ten years, I'd run the castle as the duchess and had plenty of resources at my disposal, but I never touched a single coin that belonged to the Vane family. I only took back what had always been mine.

On the afternoon of the seventh day, Orla came to my little garden, something she had never once done before.

She wore an elaborate, elegant white gown and held Elias, whose face was much rosier now. The Progenitor's Ward ring that had once been on my finger had been reworked into a pendant and hung around his neck.

"Selena." She walked up to me, her voice as sweet as ever. "I heard you haven't been feeling well these past few days, so I brought the baby to see you."

I sat in the wicker chair without even lifting my eyes. "Enjoying what used to be mine?"

Orla's smile froze for a second. Then her eyes went red, and she lowered her head, wounded. "Selena, I know you still blame me. But the baby is innocent... Without this ring, he might already be dead. Alaric only gave it to me to save a life. Please don't blame him."

"I don't blame him, and I don't blame you." I looked at her coldly. "I've already given it away. Use it however you like. If there's nothing else, please leave and let me rest."

But Orla didn't leave. She stepped forward and deliberately held Elias's pendant up to the sunlight. The glow of the bloodline on it stung my eyes.

"Actually, Alaric still cares about you," she said softly, unable to hide her smugness. "Last night he drank too much in my room and was still saying your name. He said that as long as you're willing to bow your head and admit you were wrong, he'll still be your husband, and our child can call you Mother someday."

Mother?

Share a husband with her and help raise her child?

I almost laughed out loud.

So this was the way out Alaric was offering me. This was his so-called generosity. In his eyes, as long as he gave me a title, I should accept the humiliation with tears of gratitude.

I slowly stood and looked down at Orla.

Even pale and without the Ward ring, I still had the presence of a woman born into one of the highest pureblood clans. Orla took an involuntary step back.

"Orla, put away your petty schemes." I closed in on her step by step, my voice cold as a blade. "Alaric treats me like a hanger-on he can toss around however he likes. Do you think you've won too? Someone who can only survive on my castoffs is nothing but trash. Is that really worth gloating over?"

Orla went pale. "You..."

"Take your child and get out of my sight." I looked at the pendant around Elias's neck. "The power of the Progenitor bloodline isn't something just anyone can absorb. Taking what isn't yours is easy. When you have to give it back, it might cost you your life."

Just as I finished, hurried footsteps sounded outside the gate.

Alaric strode into the garden. When he saw Orla's red eyes and trembling body, he scowled.

"Selena! What are you doing now?" Alaric pulled Orla behind him. "Orla was kind enough to bring the baby to see you. Why are you being so cruel to her?"

I looked at this man I'd once loved so deeply.

He shielded another woman and her child as if it were second nature, as if it were his right.

"Alaric, I didn't go looking for her." My voice was calm, my heart unmoved. "She came to me and embarrassed herself."

"Alaric, it's not Selena's fault..." Orla tugged at his sleeve and sobbed delicately. "It's my fault. I thought that since Selena lost the Ward ring and was so weak, I'd have the baby share some of the ring's power with her... I never thought she'd be this angry..."

What an angel. She might as well have worn a halo.

Alaric looked even more displeased. "Selena, look at Orla, then look at yourself! Even now she's thinking of you, and you? All I see from you is suspicion and spite! When did you become so petty, so vicious?"

Petty? Vicious?

I looked at Alaric, and suddenly the whole thing seemed laughable.

For ten years, I'd given up every luxury for him, run his castle, taken a deadly blow for him, even hidden my own name. And in the end, in his heart, I was just a petty, vicious woman.

"That's right, I'm vicious." I laughed, loud and unrestrained. "So, to keep from being vicious any longer, I'd like you both to get out of my sight right now."

Unease flashed across Alaric's face when he saw my smile.

He stepped forward and tried to grab my shoulder. "Selena, how long are you going to keep this up? It's been a week since you began severing the blood oath, and you look worse every day. Don't you know that without the protection of my blood, you really will die?"

"Whether I die or not is no concern of yours, Your Grace." I avoided his hand. "This is only the first week. In three more weeks, every tie between us will be cut."

Alaric's brows knotted. I could see his sense of control slipping away as he looked at me.

He hated that feeling.

"Fine! You want to tough it out?" Alaric snorted and took Orla's hand. "Let's see how long you last! When the 30 days are up, if you don't come crawling back to beg me, there won't be a place for you anywhere on the Night Continent!"

He stormed off with Orla, slamming the gate behind them.

Watching them go, I slowly closed my eyes.

I laid my hand on my belly, where a faint flutter of life stirred.

Baby, I said silently through my tears, wait for Mommy to take you home.

Every night, by candlelight, I sewed a little cloak for the baby the way my mother had taught me, with a Roland rose embroidered at the corner. My stitches were crooked and not pretty at all.

On the 15th day, Alaric sent word for me to arrange the monthly Blood Moon banquet.

I said, "Have your new lady of the house do that."

Alaric stormed into my room. I gave him just one reply. "Didn't you say Ms. Crane was the one you most wanted to protect? Throwing a banquet should be easy for her."

With no other options, Alaric had to hand it over to Orla. Her eyes lit up with excitement, as if she were already the duchess.

On the night of the Blood Moon banquet, Orla gave the head of the northern clan the least prestigious seat and put two feuding clan heads at the same table.

Before the wine had even been served to everyone, one of the clan heads threw down his cup and walked out.

I sat behind the railing on the second floor and watched. In front of a hall full of guests, for the first time, Alaric didn't take Orla's side.

Did he remember now who had really been holding this castle together?