The Duchess in Disguise

02

The night was still deep and unfathomable. In the castle’s bedchamber, the chill of lavender and ancient wood mingled in the air. On a velvet-draped bed, Vera slowly woke, her long lashes trembling, her mind shrouded in fog and blankness.

"Miss, you’re finally awake!"

Kneeling beside the bed was a girl in a black maid’s dress—Lia, her voice trembling with the lingering fear and relief of someone who had witnessed a miracle. "You’ve been burning with fever, unconscious for three whole days and nights..."

Vera struggled to sit up. Her throat felt parched, her voice coming out rough and broken.

"Fever... for that long?"

She looked around, confusion flickering in her eyes. The room was unfamiliar and cold: soaring arched ceilings, a carved fireplace flickering with pale fire, and ancient trees pressing against the windows outside, shrouded in endless night. On the wall hung a silver crest—the sigil of the Aldrich family: a snarling wolf and a bat with outstretched wings, facing off beneath the moonlight, solemn and fearsome.

She hesitated.

"Where... am I?"

Vera threw off the brocade quilt and forced herself out of bed, nearly stumbling as her feet touched the ground.

Lia rushed to support her, her tone gentle, coaxing:

"Miss, you’re still confused from the fever. This is the Aldrich royal castle—your home."

Vera froze, disbelief written all over her face.

"My name is... Vera Aldrich?"

Lia finally let out a breath of relief and nodded, a gentle smile brightening her face.

"Yes, miss. You are the Duke of Aldrich’s only daughter—Vera."

No, that’s not right. My name is Sophia Green, daughter of General Green of the Northern Territories. And Vera Aldrich—the true Vera—is the most noble princess of the mixed-blooded werewolf and vampire royal clan.

I still remember: our names differed by only one letter, and Vera had always despised me for it. She was arrogant, wild, and utterly untamable, shunned by all the nobles in the capital. But what everyone truly feared wasn’t her—it was her father, Duke Aldrich. Second only to the king, master of both wolf and blood clans, he ruled with an iron fist and was the very embodiment of their family’s power and legacy.

Just then, the heavy doors of the castle swung open.

A tall, imposing man strode into the cold pool of light.

He was broad-shouldered, streaks of silver at his temples. His golden eyes were deep, and sharp enough to pierce the soul. With his arrival, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

"Vera, you’re finally awake?"

The Duke of Aldrich’s voice was low and gravelly, vibrating with emotion and unyielding authority.

"Do you realize, if you hadn’t woken up, I would have stormed the royal castle myself and dragged that little bastard prince here to die with you!"

Vera instinctively retreated a few steps. She remembered—faint, scattered memories—how the duke dealt with his enemies: merciless, ruthless, no one dared touch his daughter’s bottom line. Whether royal brothers or pure-blood vampires, all fell beneath his wrath.

"I..." she bit her lip, her voice trembling, lost.

The duke scoffed coldly, his eyes growing even more chilling.

"That insolent brat—taking advantage of your feelings for him, then shoving you into Bloodmoon Lake? Now that you’ve awakened, I will see you avenged. I’ll force him to kneel before the court, beg your forgiveness, and marry you if it’s the last thing I do!"

Vera’s face drained of color. Her fingers trembled.

The one Vera loved was none other than the infamous fourth prince—Derek Aldrich.

Rumored throughout the capital as cold and untouchable, he possessed the purest blood of both werewolves and vampires. Born noble, born alone, he had never spared a single glance for any woman. People said his heart held nothing but blood—and power.