Chapter 1 - A Shocking News
1324 Words
The late afternoon sun bathes the courtyard in golden light, casting long, amber shadows across the cobblestone path. The scent of blooming roses hangs in the crisp breeze, mingling with the faint, ever-present trace of blood that lingers on the castle grounds.
It no longer unsettles me.
I've grown used to it—the metallic whisper beneath the flowers. A reminder of the world I chose, the kingdom I married into, the war I now prepare for.
Beside me, Ciel’s small hand grips mine tightly as he chatters on about knights and castles, his voice full of wonder, each word a melody that softens the sharp corners of my thoughts.
He hops along the path, his energy irrepressible. Innocence in motion.
“Mama,” he says suddenly, tilting his head up toward me with his father’s eyes—so piercing, so knowing. “Did you know knights have to protect their kingdom no matter what?”
I smile and give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I do. That’s why they train so hard.”
He puffs up with pride, chin raised. “Then I’ll train too! I’ll protect you and Dad.”
My heart aches—how can something so sweet hurt so deeply?
He’s only four. He shouldn’t have to think of protection, of danger, of duty.
And yet, some part of him knows. Feels it.
As if the blood in his veins carries an understanding beyond his years.
He is the reason I fight. The reason I endure.
I pushed aside the tightening not in my chest, refusing to let my dread color this moment.
Just for now, I let him be the child he still is.
In the distance, Callie and her mother Carmilla round the corner of the garden. The soft rustle of their gowns accompanies their arrival, but it’s Callie’s face that lights up as she spots us.
“Hey there, baby boy!” she calls, kneeling down with open arms. “Can you give Lele a kiss?”
Ciel halts abruptly, folding his arms across his chest with practiced seriousness. “Aunt, I’m a big boy now. I don’t kiss people in public,” he declares with a pout that is all drama and no real protest.
Callie bursts into laughter, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Big boy, huh? Too cool for kisses now?”
“Big boy,” I echoed with a smile, crouching to his level. “Go with your Aunt Lele for a bit, okay? Mama and Grandma need to talk.”
He hesitates, eyes flicking at me with that quiet understanding again.
Then he nods. “Okay, Mama.”
And just like that, he lets go of my hand.
As Callie leads Ciel away, Carmilla’s expression shifts. The warmth in her eyes dims, replaced by a tension that coils just beneath the surface.
She tilts her head toward the left wing of the palace.
“Shall we?”
No more words are exchanged.
I follow her in silence, our footsteps echoing through the grand corridors. The light filtering through the stained-glass windows is fractured—casting broken rainbows across portraits of ancient rulers. Kings and queens long dead, yet their legacies stretch on like ghosts in glass.
Their eyes seem to watch us as we pass.
Judging. Waiting.
The deeper we go, the heavier the air becomes.
The farther from light.
The closer to truth.
We reached the boardroom.
A vast chamber of oak and silence.
Shelves line the walls, filled with crumbling scrolls and brittle tomes—records of wars, treaties, betrayals. The room hums with decisions made, with secrets too old to forget.
The heavy door thuds shut behind us.
Carmilla turns to me. There is no hesitation now.
“I’m afraid I have terrible news,” she says.
Her voice is calm—but it’s the kind of calm that follows lightning, not peace.
“For you. For us. For everyone.”
My stomach tightens, a knot of dread twisting deep inside me.
“What is it this time?” I ask, already bracing for the blow.
Carmilla exhales slowly, the corners of her mouth tightening. “The petition to dethrone you has gained traction.”
A beat.
“But it’s no longer just about you,” she continues, her voice harder now. “Because you are bound to my son… if you fall, Taylor falls with you.”
I nod, but my heart is pounding. We've seen this coming, fought it with every ounce of our strength—but hearing it said aloud sends a cold wave through me.
Carmilla’s expression darkens. “We still hold the highest authority—descendants of Dracula himself. But legacy alone cannot silence the council.”
Her next words fall like a guillotine.
“If you and Taylor wish to remain on the throne… there is only one way.”
The room falls silent.
Too silent.
Then—
“We must bring in a second lady of the house,” she says, voice like steel. “A full-blooded vampire to bear the next heir.”
The words hit me like a blade to the chest. My knees nearly buckled.
“A second wife?” I whispered, choking on the taste of betrayal. “A new heir?”
Carmilla nods, solemnly. “The council will never accept Ciel. No matter how fiercely we fight, their decision is final. This isn’t just about your marriage—it’s about the survival of our society. Of our bloodline.”
I shook my head, blinking back at the sting in my eyes. “No.”
Her hand rests gently on my shoulder, a rare gesture of softness. “I know this wounds you. But if you refuse, we lose everything. And if the wrong hands take the throne…” Her voice tightens. “There will be no future. Not for Ciel. Not for us.”
The door creaks open.
I don’t need to turn.
Taylor. And Jayson.
Their presence changes the air—heavy, silent, unbreathable.
Taylor strides forward, his face carved with guilt. “I’m sorry, honey,” he murmurs. “I never wanted this.”
I raise a trembling hand, stopping him. “I know,” I say. “This isn’t your fault.”
But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I drew in a ragged breath. “Who?”
Taylor hesitates. Jayson stiffens beside him.
“Not her,” Jayson mutters, a sharp edge to his voice.
I turned to Carmilla. “Who?” I demand.
She sighs, her shoulders heavy. “There is no other choice.”
My heart drops.
“His mate?”
Taylor’s silence is answer enough.
Then, at last, he nods. Shame shadows his eyes.
I laugh—a sound brittle and empty. “Fate is cruel, isn’t it?”
“Can’t it be someone else?” Jayson snaps.
Carmilla shakes her head. “We do not choose our mates. Destiny binds us. Every other full-blooded is already bonded. She is the only one.”
My fists clench, nails biting into the skin. “And if I refuse?”
Taylor steps forward again, his touch tentative as he cups my face. “Then we lose the throne… and Ciel will never be safe.”
The words wrap around me like chains.
Binding. Final.
My love for Taylor.
My devotion to our son.
My fury.
All collide against the brutal weight of what must be done.
Tears rise, but I will not let them fall. Not here. Not now.
I inhale sharply, locking eyes with the man I love. “I will endure this,” I whisper. “But do not ask me to accept it.”
His fingers tightened, his pain a mirror of mine. “I would never.”
For Ciel.
For our fragile dream.
For a kingdom that may never truly be mine—
I will endure.
But for how much longer…
Before I break completely?
- Writer
