The morning came around that has me groaning after being woken up so early by those blasted demonic crows. It's weird since they never came by this early. I wonder if that's a sign of an ill omen. Nonetheless, as I got off the bed, my head was still spinning, the memory of Dracarus's face so close to mine feeling like a fever dream. But the weight of the charcoal silk sheets and the lingering scent of winter air on the pillow reminded me it was very real. I had slapped a vampire prince, slept in his bed, and survived. If that wasn't a hardware defect in my survival instinct, I didn't know what was.
Dracarus was already gone; the jerk didnt even stay to indulge me in my rant…
No!!
Forget it; I'd rather not pick a fight with him so early in the morning anyway, but even in his sleep this guy... his side of the bed was perfectly smooth, as if he hadn't spent the night wrestling with the same suffocating silence I had. I felt a strange pang of irritation. The moment I opened the door, I felt relief. Lukas was there and didn't bother to question what I was doing in his boss's room. The selfless idiot showed some concern for your friend at least. Was something i wanted to pic up with him but maybe later as he escorted me back to my room before patting my head and walking off
"What a weirdo sometimes,'" I muttered under my cold breath.
I opened the door and saw a tray of egg drop noodle soup. Who would leave this here with no note??? I know better than to eat food without confirmation of where it's from, but it smells so good I'm sure a little won't kill me.
"Hina? You look exhausted," Lukas said softly before picking up the empty tray on my small wooden table
I forgot how you vampires can teleport as you please, but don't scare me like that, geez!!.
"Did you not rest like Dracarus ordered?"
I sat up, the sheets sliding against the scars that have now fully healed on my arms . . . "I'm fine, Lukas," I said, my voice cold. "Just had a dream about beating a certain prince for making me sleep in his smelly bed!! So gross."
He chuckled at my snarky comment on dracarus, his fingers grazing the fabric of my sleeve before he pulled back. "You shouldn't say things like that. Not today. The Gala is tonight, and the King is expecting you to be there on time. Everyone who is anyone in the kingdom will be there to see the 'Gift' the prince has been bragging about keeping. I mean, this really does call for a celebration; after all, it's the first time the cold-hearted prince, who was known for his sadistic punishment methods, slaughtering anyone who crosses him, and his sheer hatred for humans, is the same prince who is looking after one. It's something to celebrate, to be honest.
"He'll get something from me all right," I muttered, grabbing an apple and biting into it with a ferocity that surprised even me. Lukas then wished me luck before giving me an entire list of things to do in order to prepare for the gala, which felt like an entire chore.
The next few hours were a blur of "preparation" that felt more like a slow-motion car crash. The maids arrived like a swarm of silent locusts, their movements calculated and clinical. They didn't see me as a person; they saw me as a canvas to be rendered for the king's amusement. They scrubbed my skin until it was raw and oiled my hair until it shone like obsidian.
Then, they pulled out the gown
.
It was a "bruised midnight sky" purple, a color so deep it looked like a fresh wound in the light. As they laced me into the corset, every tug felt like a physical weight on my bruised ribs. The low cut of the back was intentional, leaving my map of scars completely exposed. It was supposed to be a display of the King's "taming" of me, a visual representation of my brokenness.
I stood before the golden mirror, watching as they pinned my hair back into something sharp, elegant, and severe. I didn't look like a girl anymore. I looked like a queen of ash.
"I really don't know how to feel about this... it's the first time I've ever been to a fancy function like this, and I know Lukas gave me advice to just be myself, but..." I whispered to my reflection. As I tried to give myself some encouragement, knowing I wouldn't be alone there, I huffed my chest out, feeling my inner wildcat was purring now, a low, dangerous sound in the back of my mind. This feeling—the high adrenaline courses through my veins.
I stepped out of my room. Lukas was waiting at the door, looking very stunning in his all-black suit and red tie. He complimented me on the outfit; it was one of the many things he started doing lately, not that I'm complaining about it or anything. The maids finally finished touching me up. And he looked at me, and for a second, his guard mask slipped once more before he looked absolutely terrified; it's like he saw something moving in the shadows. I tried to look around to see what he saw, but by the time I did, the shadow was gone. I wonder what has him so spooked?.
"Hina, please. Just for tonight. Behave. Don't provoke the high-ranking members. They all lead back to the King, and the King... he doesn't take too kindly to anyone who crosses paths with him. People died mysteriously the next day after. I'm just saying to be careful; there are creatures that lurk in the dark that are much more powerful and much more dangerous than the King... We should get going before Drac has my head."
I gave him a small smile, mirroring the one Dracarus had given me in the study yestereday. "Well, I've already come this far; no point in causing trouble and getting killed. Now let's go, Lukas."
He led me to the carriage and helped me up. I took my seat beside him; my mind kept wondering about what Lukas spoke of today. Could there be somone who's after me that's more dangerous than the king? i thought before shaking my head and waited until we arrived at the courtroom where the gala was being held.
I stepped out into the hallway, the scent of expensive cologne and upcoming storms already filling the air. Dracarus was waiting at the end of the corridor, looking icy and perfect in his royal attire. He met my gaze, his eyes searching mine for that "fever" he'd seen in the dark of his bedroom.
I didn't take his hand. I didn't wait for his permission. I just walked past him, the heavy silk of my dress whispering against the stone like a promise of chaos.
"I'm going to do something stupid—I can feel it," I whispered to the shadows.