Chapter One: The Velvet Court
1054 Words
Silence ruled the Velvet Court long before anyone noticed it.
It crept between conversations, lingered beneath laughter, and settled behind every polished smile like a second shadow. Selene Valtoria felt it the moment she crossed the threshold of the grand hall, the heavy doors closing behind her with a sound too soft to be accidental.
She paused, just for a breath.
The court watched.
Crystal chandeliers hung low from vaulted ceilings, their glow softened by crimson drapery and centuries of dust that no one ever acknowledged. Marble floors reflected candlelight and movement alike, turning every step into something deliberate, something observed. The air smelled faintly of old roses, aged wine, and restraint sharpened into tradition.
Selene moved forward.
Her black gown whispered against stone, silk hugging her form without demanding attention. She had chosen simplicity on purpose. In a room where excess was armor, restraint was rebellion.
Eyes followed her.
She felt the weight of them slide over her skin, assessing, remembering, speculating. Some recognized her immediately. Others only sensed that she mattered, that she carried something old and dangerous beneath her calm exterior.
Whispers followed in her wake.
The Emperor’s niece.
The girl who vanished.
The one whose blood feels wrong.
Selene did not acknowledge them.
She had learned young that reacting gave power away. The court thrived on reactions. It fed on embarrassment, fear, anger. What it could not digest was indifference.
She crossed the hall with measured grace and stopped before the towering windows overlooking the city below. From this height, the medieval town seemed almost peaceful. Lanterns flickered along narrow streets. Merchants packed away stalls. Mortals laughed, unaware of the politics above their heads, of the monsters who governed their nights.
Once, Selene had envied them.
Now, she protected that ignorance with her silence.
The glass reflected her image back at her. Pale skin. Dark hair pulled loose down her back. Eyes too knowing for her apparent age. She looked composed. Controlled.
She did not look cursed.
A presence shifted behind her, deliberate and unhurried.
“Princess.”
Selene closed her eyes for the briefest moment before turning.
“I have asked you not to call me that,” she said evenly.
Lord Severin stood a few paces away, hands clasped behind his back, posture immaculate. He was beautiful in the way only ancient vampires were, his features sharpened by centuries of power and cruelty refined into elegance. His gaze lingered on her face, her throat, her pulse, as though cataloguing weaknesses.
“Titles are not garments,” he replied mildly. “You cannot discard them simply because they no longer suit your tastes.”
“They never suited me,” Selene said.
A ripple of irritation crossed his eyes before smoothing away. He circled her slowly, like a predator assessing distance.
“You have been absent,” Severin continued. “The council notices such things. The Emperor notices.”
Selene met his gaze. “I am not summoned every time someone wishes to remind themselves of my existence.”
“You live outside palace walls,” he said. “You decline formal invitations. You reject marriage proposals from houses that would bleed themselves dry for your favor.”
“I reject cages,” Selene replied quietly.
Severin stopped in front of her. “Careful.”
Her lips curved faintly. “Or what?”
For a moment, something cracked through his composure. Fear, perhaps. Or curiosity sharpened too far.
“You forget yourself,” he said.
“No,” Selene answered, stepping closer until only inches separated them. “I remember exactly who I am. And that frightens you.”
Silence stretched, thick and dangerous.
Severin studied her as though seeing her clearly for the first time. “You carry something unfinished,” he said at last. “Something that does not belong to you alone.”
The words struck deeper than he knew.
Beneath Selene’s ribs, the curse stirred.
It was subtle at first, a low hum of heat threading through her veins, tightening around her heart like an unseen hand. She kept her expression neutral, breathing steady, posture unchanged. Control had been beaten into her long before the curse ever awakened.
“You should be careful with accusations,” she said. “They have a habit of cutting both ways.”
Severin smiled thinly. “Power unused still draws blood.”
“Then stop sharpening knives behind my back,” Selene murmured.
The court’s noise seemed distant now. Music softened. Conversations dimmed. As though the hall itself leaned closer, listening.
Severin’s gaze hardened. “You were safer when you stayed gone.”
Selene straightened. “There is no safety in hiding.”
She turned away before he could respond, leaving him standing alone beneath the chandelier’s glow.
As she moved toward the exit, the court exhaled. Laughter resumed. Goblets clinked. The illusion of normalcy stitched itself back together.
But Selene felt none of it.
The curse pressed harder now, restless, aware. It had grown stronger in the palace, as though proximity to imperial blood stirred it awake. She clenched her fingers at her sides, nails biting into silk.
Not tonight, she thought. Not here.
She stepped out into the night air, cool and sharp against her skin, and descended the palace steps without looking back. Her carriage waited at the gate, black and unmarked. She climbed inside and gave a single command.
“Take the long road.”
The horses moved.
Stone gave way to dirt. Lanterns thinned. Walls fell behind her as the carriage carried her farther from the palace and closer to the forest’s edge. The moon climbed higher, silver and watchful.
Selene rested her head against the carriage wall and closed her eyes.
The curse pulsed in response.
Images flickered behind her lids. Blood on leaves. Moonlight fractured through branches. A presence she could not name, warm and dangerous and unfamiliar.
She inhaled sharply.
This was new.
The curse had always been pain. Control. Suppression.
Never… direction.
The carriage slowed near the borderlands, where vampire law thinned and ancient agreements grew fragile. Selene opened her eyes, heart beating faster than it should have.
Something waited for her beyond the trees.
She did not know what it was yet.
Only that her life, carefully contained until now, had begun to fracture.
And the night was listening.
- Writer
