เข้าสู่ระบบOn a bitter snowy day, a crying three-year-old Empress, Anastasia Brokenoff, is forced into the barren desert lands of Nochten, the homeland of vampires, under the promise she will have a better life amongst her mother's kin. But this couldn't be any further from the truth. In Nochten, Ana is mocked for her silver hair, while her only relatives ignore and abuse their power for their gains. Unable to do anything until her first blood, Ana hides behind books and her late mother's rose garden. It is a lonely life, but Ana accepts her fate and tries to bear with it until she is old enough to change it. That is until the arrival of a new maid, a human named Maddie, who is determined to rekindle the relationship between Ana and her father. Ana believes it will go nowhere, but to her surprise, a single letter sparks a whole chain of events that will throw Ana into a new world of people. People like Prince Nicoli, her half-brother, who invokes strange feelings Ana must keep secret as she traverses the dangerous realm of nobility while holding back her cousin, Mykhol, who is not solely focused on her throne. So, will Ana be able to keep her feelings a secret? Will she be able to keep her crown? Or will Ana end up losing everything she fought so dearly to keep?
ดูเพิ่มเติม*Nicoli*The study smelt wrong somehow. Nicoli noticed that before anything else .The smell of his father had always been here. That ever constant scent of soap and wood shavings, something that had been so foundational to this room, that Nicoli had never thought to catalogue it before. Just only breathed it in for eighteen years without registering what he was doing.But he registered it now.Because it was fading.Not gone completely. But it was thinning. Slowly fading into the background enough to make him understand it would not be there much longer.The curtains still held some of it. The leather of the chairs. The grain of the desk. But it was retreating from the things being moved, abandoning the objects as they were lifted and wrapped and placed into crates, as if even the scent understood that the objects no longer belonged here and was declining to follow them out. Like some important essential thing was fading too fast. Far too fast for him to see how helpless he was to s
*Anastasia* The carriage groans as it climbs. It is not a sharp complaint of something about to fail, but it’s low, thick, like wood protesting between iron asked to do too much more than what it was used to, in weather it was not built for. The sound matches the rhythm of the horses outside. Even through the walls, I can hear them.The poor things.They trot on in the brittle winds and snow. Heavy, rhythmic in their effort as they push hooves on packed snow and grit, the occasional snort of breath that sounds almost human in its exhaustion. They don’t stop, even as the whole vehicle sways slightly with each gust that comes off the mountain face, a long, lateral lean that makes the brass lantern overhead swing in small, pendulous arcs, sending its amber light traveling slowly across our faces and away again.I lift my hand to the small carriage window on my right.My gloved fingers smear a clear patch through the fog that has gathered on the glass to make a tiny view beyond the co
*Naska*The servants' passages ran narrow and low-ceilinged through the heart of the palace, threading between the grand rooms like veins beneath skin — the functional arteries of a body that preferred not to see how it sustained itself. The walls were plain stone, dark with age, smelling of smoke and polish and old linen and stale damp where the cold pressed through from outside. The torches here burned lower than in the main corridors, spaced wider apart, throwing uneven light that made the passages feel longer than they were.Naska had walked them her entire life.She knew every turn, every low beam, every place where the stone swelled with the bitter summer heats. She knew which doors stuck and which swung silent, which paths were used by which households, where to stand to hear conversations from the rooms undisturbed.She had always known this palace better from the inside of its walls than from within its rooms.Tonight, the passages were different.Not quieter — louder, if an
*Naska*Bruno’s gaze stayed on her arm. He didn't move toward her. He didn't reach. Only looked — and the looking itself was its own kind of weight, pressing against the sleeve where Mykhol's grip had been, as if his eyes could see through muslin and into the bruise already forming beneath.And Naska felt it. The questions in that gaze. The assessment. The anger held so carefully behind the surface that only someone who had spent years learning to show nothing could have managed it — and even then, only barely. Because without the curtain of hair to soften him, to give him somewhere to retreat, his face was exposed in a way it had never been before. Every small contraction of muscle visible. The deepening furrow between his brows. The way his jaw held too still, the way his lower lip pressed flat.He was reading her.In a way that was far beyond his years. Something she had never taught him — and the realization of that, of all the things he must have taught himself quietly and alone
*Naska* The hallways blurred white around her like fever dreams.Heels struck hard against the marble, each sharp clap echoing off the vaulted arches like vulture caws as Naska flew through the corridor, grace abandoned to desperation. Cold air clawed at her throat with every ragged breath, her ch
*Hidi*The parlor was warmer than she expected. Though snow still whispered against the tall windows, hushing down in lazy veils from the gray sky beyond, the room itself held the kind of curated heat that made Hidi’s skin prickle beneath her fur collar. The warmth pressed against her like unwante
*Anastasia*“I thought you could use a friend, just about now.”The word—friend—hangs over me, almost mockingly, slicing through the stillness of the room. It catches in my throat, sharp and bitter, a shard of glass impossible to swallow. Behind me, the fire in the grate sputters and hisses, a dyin
*Admiral Nugen The air in the court was too still—dense, like velvet soaked rot festering in shadow, carrying a silence so weighty it pressed against eardrums like delving too deep beneath dark water.Admiral Nugen shifted where he stood near the edge of the chamber, half-sunk into shadow beneath






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