Blood & Crown

Chapter 5: Safe Return

(AURORA POV)

“Hurry, Peri!” I said as we ran back to the house.

The guards greeted us at the front and braced for a possible attack, but I ignored them and frantically ran inside.

As Peri closed the door, I sat down on the wooden bench, trying to steady my disorganized breathing.

“Lady Aurora?” she muttered, trying to figure out what had happened.

“Could you bring me a bowl of water?”

“Uh—right away!”

Swirling thoughts filled the empty space in my head as I hugged my knees. Just like before, I came home feeling anxious.

Peri returned with the bowl.

I took it and poured it over my head.

“Lady Aurora?!” she exclaimed, immediately leaving to get a washcloth.

I needed to feel something—anything—in an instant to get my thoughts in order, and the water was the right

decision.

I kept my eyes closed as I felt Peri gently drying me. When she finished, my vision landed on her uncertain

expression.

It seemed like she wanted to know what had happened but was hesitating to even attempt a conversation.

So I made up an excuse. “Don’t worry about me. I just had a random fright, and I’ll be okay.”

She covered me with a blanket, and I asked her to tell the guards outside that I was fine.

Left alone, I thought about what had happened earlier. Something I had dreaded feeling again came rushing back in

a matter of seconds. I knew I could defend myself, but I had been frozen in that moment—incapacitated—giving him a window to peer into my weakness.

I lay down and stared at the ceiling. I blinked, trying to make sense of how he knew I was a vampire when, as far as

I could tell, in terms of appearance, we were alike.

I had never interacted with a human before, so I wasn’t used to them. Though I knew their race was once afraid of

us, that fear turned into aggression, causing irreversible damage to the relationship between us.

Peri came back, and I sat up.

“Sorry for forgetting you back there,” I said, gesturing for her to sit by me. I was truly apologetic; I’d been too

preoccupied with running away, tail tucked between my legs, never considering that she had been in just as much danger as I was.

She shook her head. “No, Lady Aurora. Don’t apologize. Besides…” She smiled and happily presented the shoes

we’d just bought.

I chuckled at how innocent she looked. “Well,” I said, removing the blanket. “Put them on!”

I laid out my dresses at the foot of my bed—an assortment of colors, patterns, and designs lined up neatly. From

fancy gowns my father had given me to the simple dresses I’d made myself: linens, silks, and wools, elegant jewelry and accessories adorning each one.

I never knew I had so many—not even counting those I left back home—since I’d only ever worn about five of them.

Yet my father kept having our seamstress make new ones, even though I deemed it unnecessary.

“Pick out something you like,” I said to Peri, who stood stiffly beside me, seemingly in shock—or perhaps awe—at

the array of clothing in front of her. She looked at me, then at the dresses, questioning reality.

I urged her again to choose, and she timidly pointed to one worn-out, old-looking dress. I insisted she pick more, but

she was too shy, so I had an idea.

I dressed Peri in each outfit, pairing them with the shoes, promising to give her whichever ones suited her best. I

was enthusiastic, to say the least. Feminine hobbies like dress-up were things I had always wanted to try. I had everything, and yet no one to experience it with.

Growing up alone in an enormous palace was melancholic at best. After my mother died, I wasn’t allowed outside

anymore. I understood my father’s decision—it was for my safety—but I was lonely. I had no siblings, and he was often too busy with his personal affairs. The only people I spent time with were my caretaker—a lovely old woman—

and the palace guards, who usually ignored my antics.

Peri—or rather, some of our newer servants—were young, even younger than me. That’s why I didn’t know how to

interact with them. Even though Peri had become my personal maid, I’d never really taken the time to get to know

her.

Frankly, I was terrified. Anxious. Stepping out of my comfort zone felt unpleasant. Even though I wanted someone I could depend on, someone who could sympathize with me as a young woman, my insecurities always held me

back.

But going to the market gave me a reason to spend time with her. For that, at least, I was grateful.

“Lady Aurora? What do you think about humans in general?” Peri suddenly asked as I picked out the dresses that

suited her.

I jolted my head toward her expectant face. “I had—” I stopped myself before saying too much. She didn’t need to

know what had happened. I inhaled. “Well, I don’t know them enough to… judge.”

She didn’t know that I was terrified of them, and I’d rather it stayed that way.

“What about you? What do you think of them?” I asked.

She pressed her lips together. “I think they’re fascinating creatures. You know—how they live differently from us,

and yet at the same time, they’re exactly like us.”

I stacked the clothes beside me and sat on the bed. “How so?”

“They’re just like vampires, but they don’t need to kill to survive.” She sat on the floor. “I… think if I had a choice, I’d

want to be like them.”

A choice to become human?

“Are you not afraid of them?”

She shook her head, taking off her shoes. “They don’t seem like bad people to me.”

“By the certainty in your voice, I assume you’ve met some before.”

She nodded. “I have—Aliah and her mother. She used to play with me when I was young.”

She continued, telling me that despite knowing she was a vampire, they never treated her any differently.

Peri was only fifteen, so she probably didn’t know the full history between us and humans—the wars, the hunts, the

cruelty that nearly drove our kind to extinction. Humans might not need to kill to survive, but they often killed for

pleasure. In my eyes, that made them worse—vastly different from us.

Even so, hearing about humans interacting kindly with vampires… I’d never heard of such a thing.

She wrapped the shoes in the linen cloth they came in, folding and tying it neatly.

“I thought the people at the market would be different,” she said. “That’s why I was nervous. But I’m glad I was

proven wrong. They’re the same as the ones I knew back home—friendly and kind, even to strangers.”

“Yes, they are.” Cordiality and warmth had greeted us as we shopped around the market. Everyone was smiling and

inviting us to look at their goods. We knew it was a tactic to encourage purchases, but they seemed genuinely kind.

“I’ve heard stories from the elders about humans hurting us, but I’ve never gotten that impression,” Peri said,

hugging her knees. “That’s why I’d rather believe in what I’ve seen.”

Peri was naïve—or maybe just inexperienced—but strangely, when it came to humans, it seemed I was the one who

needed a new perspective.

As she tidied everything, I was left alone with my thoughts.

The man from before.

He didn’t hurt me. He even apologized. But just because he acted nice didn’t mean his intentions were pure. Why

did he follow me? Then again, the shopkeepers had been kind too, and he had stopped when I begged him to. But he’d had that dagger on his belt…

I scratched my head and lay down on the bed.

Maybe I needed to learn more about them—but I was scared. What if they hurt me? What if they killed me? What if

they killed the people I love again?

I yawned as my thoughts spiraled. Even though my time at the market was brief, the walk home had felt endless.

Before I knew it, I drifted to sleep.

* * * * * * * * *

I was running, hoping they wouldn’t follow me. With every step I took, every breath I let out, her heartbeat slowed,

and her blood trickled onto the grass, pooling into a dark puddle.

I cried out for her as I ran.

Tick tock.

I tried to suppress the sounds around me, focusing only on what was ahead. I pushed through branches and shrubs

as I ran—

Tick tock.

The howling wouldn’t stop. No matter how hard I covered my ears or shut my eyes, the screams and sorrow

wouldn’t cease.

Tick tock.

I collapsed to the ground and saw my father running toward me, calling my name in a frantic tone. But before he

reached me, my eyes closed.

* * * * * * * * *

Then—

I woke up.

Gasping, I sat up, clutching a pillow tightly as I buried my face into it.

I hated that dream.

Nightmares like that had become frequent ever since I arrived here.

I needed something—someone—to ground me. My fingers traced my arm, searching for something familiar on my

wrist. But I found nothing.

Then an image came to me. My mother’s armband. I’d left it at the cordwainer’s stall.

Damn it!

I looked out the window—it was already dark. The market was surely closed, but I didn’t hesitate. I hurried out,

unnoticed by the guards at the gate.

Without a weapon, and without a plan for how to face humans again, I continued into the dark forest.

I recognized the path—the same atmosphere, the same moon, and the same creeping fear as I passed each tree.

My body trembled; my feet grew heavy as the darkness consumed my senses, yet I kept moving forward, searching

for that light.

The frantic beating of my heart and the crunching of dried leaves beneath my feet weren’t the only sounds I heard, but even that didn’t deter me.

No matter what, I needed that armband back. I needed that memory of my mother close to me—even if it killed me.

As I caught my breath, I heard branches breaking—coming closer. Before I could react, someone pinned me to the ground.

They knelt on my back, binding my arms and feet.

I tried to scream, but it was useless. They yanked my hair and covered my mouth, muffling every sound. One of

them slipped a sack over my head and threw me over their shoulder.

As I struggled to break free, another set of footsteps came crashing toward us—followed by a familiar, husky voice.

“Let go of her!”