“Your Majesty,” Johan warned. But King Alexander shooed him off.
“I know what you are going to say, but I don’t care.” King Alexander had every right to be happy. And with that, he gave another skip around the room.
“Your majesty,” Johan could shake his head, but it was a lost cause. The king wasn’t going to listen.
“My baby girl, my sweet little dove.” King Alexander twirled before sitting back down. He kicked his feet before going for the letter again. It was the third time.
But it still wasn’t enough.
“I wish she wrote more.” Alexander pouted, pushing his beard down.
“But it’s a start, your Majesty.”
“Aye, yes, it is.” And Alexander was back up and walking the room. His mind was a buzz, and he had to keep moving.
“Agent Maddie has delivered on her word.” She said she would. But neither of them expected it to be this fast.
“She deserves a reward. But it should be gold.” No, gold wouldn’t be enough for what she managed to do.
The door of communication was finally opened after four years. It was no small task by any means. Yes, it deserved something great.
“I’ll give her a title.” Alexander decided at once. “And a great house.”
Alexander returned to the letter.
“My very first letter.” Alexander lifted it like a priceless heirloom. “Look at her penmanship. It’s perfect.”
"Ana must be quite the student indeed."
“Yes, She takes after her mother.” Alexander beamed proudly.
“Then Prince Nicoli must take after you.”
Alexander dropped his smile.
“Old coot.”
“Speak of the devil,” Johan and King Alexander both turned at the startled cry.
Birds were up and flying over the window in panic as a child's laughter bellowed.
“Back to terrorizing those poor creatures again.” King Alexander shook his head but peered over his to look down the window.
Below, the four-year-old with curly brunette hair and blue eyes moved to pick up a pile of leaves. He threw them up above with another roar of laughter.
“He should be with his tutors right now,” King Alexander frowned. But he wasn’t all disappointed. He skipped many classes at his age.
It was the next person with him, however, that made King Alexander grow cold.
Queen Belinda walked a few steps behind the boy. She was dressed in a white layered garden gown. Her black curls were pulled up neatly to cascade over one side of her head and frame her face and gray eyes.
The queen’s expression was an equal measure of admiration and patience as she watched on. A motherly smile crossed her face. That is until she was directly under the window.
As if already aware, Queen Belinda looked up with expectation. The smile on her face lessened to something softer, and she bowed.
“What a coincidence that Her Majesty would want to take a walk now.” Johan went, but both men knew it was anything but.
“Do you think she knows?”
“It would only be a matter of time before she would.” King Alexander wasn’t surprised. The only surprise was how fast it took.
Faster than both of them expected, apparently.
“Her spies must be quite busy.”
“It doesn’t matter.” King Alexander turned away from his desk to open the drawer. A piece of fresh parchment was pulled out with ink and quills.
“She won’t have it her way again. Not this time.” Four years was long enough.
King Alexander took a seat, dipping the quill in fresh ink.
“Johan, send for the postmaster. I want this sent with no delay.”
“Your Majesty,” Johan bowed and turned out.
“It’s about time I fix my mistake, right, my love?’ King Alexander looked up at the portrait.
The painted woman smiled at him. Her fangs slightly showed under her full upper lip. Her red hair was pulled back with gold chains and crowns to better show off how large her red eyes were.
It was quite a feat to get her to agree to the painting. King Alexander remembered how he had to beg. The vampire was naturally reluctant to her Nochten superstitions. But he had been glad of his persistence.
The painting had turned out to be his second most treasured thing. But it was time he got his first. And King Alexander was determined.
“It’s time I get my daughter back home.”
-x-
*Nicoli*
“Mommy, look!” The young boy lifted the pretty feather to show her.
“It’s blue-” Your favorite. But Nicoli could see his mother was already distracted.
Her maid, Julia, was coming from inside. She leaned to whisper something. Whatever it was, it looked important. His mother’s usual smile dropped for a moment.
But it came back just as quickly.
“Is that what he’s planning to do?” his mother laughed. “After all this time?”
Julia nodded.
“He seems set on it, Your Majesty.”
“I’m sure he would be.” His mother sighed, looking back at the castle. “He always gets sentimental this time of year.”
“But What if she does come back, Your Majesty?”
“Julia, you sound more concerned than I am.” She laughed. But the smile thinned.
“I just- I know this must hurt you,” Julia confessed.
“It does.”
“Then, Your Majesty-”
“Do you really think I will let it happen?”
“What happened?” Nicoli dropped the feather behind to come closer. What was happening?
“What’s happening, mommy?”
Both women turned with a slight start at the boy being so close. Julia bowed, averting her eyes. But his mother grew sweet again.
“Nothing, sweetie.” She cooed and motioned for him. Nicoli gladly came over. Her hand played with his curls tenderly.
It felt good. Nicoli liked having his head touched. He pressed closer to her leg as she continued.
It was also nice to be with Mommy. She was so nice and warm. Nicoli could feel his eyes droop.
“What will you do, your majesty?” Julia, meanwhile, asked again. Her face pulled thin with worry.
“IF she comes back-”
“Julia,” His mother widened her smile to show all her teeth. “How dare you doubt me.”
“I got rid of her once.” His mother stopped to take Nicoli’s hand. She turned to guide him back inside. Their random little walk was over.
“I can do it again.”
*Nicoli*“Mind if I cut in?” It wasn’t a question. A hand landed on Nicoli's shoulder—firm, warm, deliberate. The grip radiated heat through the silk of his doublet, steady as an anchor but weighted with unmistakable authority. It wasn't aggressive, but there was something in that touch that halted him mid-step, like hearing the low rumble of a lion stirring from its den. Golden eyes lifting with predatory interest, singling in on its prey. Or rather… rival.Nicoli's pulse stuttered.The voice had come from just behind his left shoulder—low, calm, and laced with the kind of authority that never needed to raise its volume. But when it did, you regretted ever hearing it. A tone, Nicoli only had to experience very few times when he was being especially naughty as a child. But to listen to the shadow of it now was–Father? He turned, already confused at the interruption of the last person he’d expect. Why is he— The low thrum of strings and scattered laughter dimmed beneath the cold p
*Nicoli*The scent of pine and spiced wine clung thick in the air, mingling with the ghostly smoke from braziers and the rustle of silk as nobles swept past in their elaborate gowns. Nicoli slipped between a veiled woman and her partner, her jewelry chiming softly as she turned. "Pardon me," he murmured—half out of habit, half out of desperation that clawed at his throat.The words barely registered past his lips. He was drowning in sensation: the warm pulse of firelight painting everything amber and gold, the fire pits crackling like distant thunder, the chill from the open patio doors that made the marble floor bite through his thin-soled shoes. But the cold was nothing compared to the fire racing through his veins.He wasn't cold. He was burning.He was close.His shoes made soft, measured taps against the marble—a rhythm far too controlled for his pulse, which hammered against his ribs like a caged bird desperate for flight. The thunderous beating should have drowned out everythi
Chapter 48 Eyes On Me*Hidi*Chapter 48Hidi trying to properly introduce Nicoli to her mom again but Nicoli is distracted by AnaEnds up dancing with Pendwick insteadGoes to sulk with her momGetting annoyed at Ana for hogging NicoliHidiLaughter bubbled up again from Hidi's throat like fine champagne—deep, rich, and unmistakably hers. The sound carried a tremor of victory, of finally having everything exactly as it should be. Her skirts flared wide with each step, the emerald velvet catching candlelight like captured starfire. The weight of the fabric against her legs felt like armor, like power made tangible. She loved the way it drew eyes—the sharp intake of breath from onlookers, the involuntary step backward. Loved even more the way people scrambled to get out of her way.The vampires danced as if afraid of their own sleeves—stiff-backed, too dignified, too correct. Every movement measured to the point of suffocation. Every step more tradition than joy, their bodies held so ri
*Ana*The fire cracks with a violent snap, splitting the silence like bone breaking. Wood collapses in on itself behind me, sending a constellation of sparks spiraling upward into the smoky darkness. For one searing moment, the nearest hearth blazes too bright—casting liquid gold across the marble floor, illuminating the exact spot where she stood just heartbeats ago.As if the flames themselves bear witness to injustice. As if I'm not the only one who sees it.Naska is gone without another word. No fight. No weeping. No desperate plea for mercy. Just... nothing. The absence of her cuts deeper than any scream would have.I can't tear my eyes away from her retreat—watching her tall, angular frame disappear through the towering silver-and-glass doors like smoke dissipating into winter air. Her shoulders are drawn back with the rigid precision of a soldier facing execution, thread stretched so taut across a loom that one more pull would snap it entirely. Each step she takes is measured,
*Naska*Naska's pale red eyes flicked upward at any movement by the entrances, her pale fingers tightening around her glass until her knuckles went white. Each flutter of fabric, each shadow crossing the threshold, made her heart lurch with desperate hope—that it would finally be him. That, at last, her love would arrive. But each hopeful glance was dashed just as quickly as it came, leaving her chest hollow and aching. The number of false alarms had become so common that Naska could feel her own excitement waning like a dying flame. Yet, her longing for Mykhol remained as strong as ever, a constant throb beneath her ribs.Standing alone was agony. Her bare feet, clad only in simple leather slippers, shifted restlessly against the cold marble floor. The rough muslin of her tunic—new for the occasion, felt suddenly shabby against her skin as she watched the noble ladies glide past in their rich furs and velvets. The soft corduroys of their gowns whispered secrets she'd never know, whil
*Bruno* The scent of wine and roasted meat turned to ash in Bruno's mouth the moment he saw him.Through the ballroom's towering glass doors, past the writhing mass of silk-draped nobles and their glittering jewelry that caught candlelight like fractured stars, a shadow had fallen across the moonlit terrace. Not just any shadow—this one had substance, weight, the kind of presence that made the very air seem to thicken and curdle.Nine years. Nine years of nightmares that left him gasping in sweat-soaked sheets, of healing bones that still ached when storms rolled in, of growing tall and lean and sharp-edged like a blade forged in fear. Nine years of learning to move like smoke through palace halls, to disappear into corners and doorways, to become invisible when survival demanded it. And still—still—Bruno's blood recognized that silhouette before his conscious mind could catch up.The way the man's shoulders cut through lamplight like the edge of an executioner's axe. The predatory s