Kael awoke before the sun rose—if there even was a sun in this cursed place.
The ceiling above him was painted in shadowy murals of winged vampires devouring star-like lights. Pale witchlamps floated quietly in the corners of his chamber, flickering with a faint blue hue. It wasn't warm. It wasn't comforting.
But it was his now.
He sat up slowly, stretching his small body. Muscles still ached from the previous day's lesson with Varian. His chest bore a faint bruise, and his shoulder twinged if he moved too fast. But that was fine. Pain was information. And information was fuel.
He slid off the bed and padded across the cold stone floor toward the balcony.
The view stole his breath every time.
Below him, the Crimson Dominion sprawled like a kingdom sculpted from a gothic fever dream. Black spires pierced the crimson sky. Rivers of blood-magic flowed like glowing veins across the land, powering enchantments, barriers, and industry. Flying beasts circled overhead—drakes, wyverns, and spell-bound gargoyles. Everything throbbed with arcane life.
But what caught Kael's eye this morning was the Palace Courtyard.
A gathering.
Dozens of noble vampires in embroidered cloaks and crested armor stood in formation. Several bore the crest of House Valtazar, others belonged to sub-families—lesser nobles who swore fealty through blood oath and fear.
He leaned over the stone railing.
At the center of the courtyard stood two thrones: one obsidian, trimmed in silver. The other crimson, shaped from jagged ruby.
Malrik Valtazar sat on the obsidian throne. Regal. Silent. Watching.
And beside him, at last, Kael saw the woman who bore him into this world.
She was tall. Dressed in a flowing black gown made of something that shimmered like ink and diamonds. Her skin was flawless—porcelain with just a trace of warmth beneath. Her long, silver-white hair fell like a veil down her back, and her eyes… her eyes were a deeper crimson than Kael's own. Ancient. Cold. Powerful.
Lady Seraphine Valtazar.
The Duchess. The Blood-Witch of the East. Kael's mother.
She spoke softly into the air, and her voice echoed across the courtyard without effort.
"I stand before you not as a matriarch, but as a mother," she said. "To present my son—Kael Valtazar—to the noble houses, and to the Dominion itself."
Murmurs rippled across the assembly. Some skeptical. Some curious. A few… afraid.
Kael stared.
They're introducing me today?
No one had warned him.
Why now?
Because of my eyes. Because they've awakened. They want to display the heir while the whispers are still whispers.
He clenched the balcony railing.
This wasn't a celebration.
It was a declaration.
Elira entered without knocking. As usual.
"Young Master," she said gently. "The Duchess requests your presence at the blood hall."
Kael turned, letting his expression harden into something neutral. He was getting good at that.
"Do I have time to change?"
"Of course," she said, bowing slightly. "But she said not to keep the nobles waiting."
That was her way of saying: Don't be slow, or they'll think you're weak.
He dressed himself. No servants. He chose a deep crimson tunic lined with silver, matching the Valtazar crest. No cape. No jewelry. He wasn't here to play prince.
He was here to observe.
The Blood Hall was enormous—a cathedral of stone and silence. Hundreds of vampire nobles sat in curved rows, like a tribunal. Gargoyle statues lined the pillars, and every shadow seemed to watch.
Kael walked in slowly, steps measured, head held high.
He felt their eyes.
[Scanning... Emotion signatures: 41% curiosity, 27% skepticism, 13% envy, 9% ambition, 10% unidentified hostile intent.]
He didn't look up. Didn't activate the Eye fully. But a soft scan—a surface pulse—gave him a taste of the room's mood.
Poisoned.
Seraphine stood at the base of the throne steps. When Kael approached, she lowered a hand.
He hesitated.
Then—instinct guiding him—he knelt.
Her fingers brushed his temple briefly. A gesture for the crowd, not for him.
"Rise," she said softly, and the word carried more weight than any shout.
He obeyed.
"This is the heir of our house," she continued, voice rich with layered charm and threat. "Born of my blood and Lord Malrik's soul. He has awakened both his eyes."
A louder murmur this time.
Kael kept his face blank.
They'll try to use me. Test me. Break me. But they don't know what I know.
I've read this world's end.
And none of them survive it.
An older noble stepped forward from the left-hand row. He had a hunch in his back, and wore a robe stitched with black feathers.
Lord Thalos of House Mirven. A manipulator. Political schemer. Kael remembered his betrayal arc from the book.
"I offer the boy my blessing," Thalos said, voice smooth. "But I would ask—what proof do we have of these awakened gifts?"
Kael's mother's smile was dagger-thin.
"I believe," she said calmly, "that my son can speak for himself."
All eyes turned to Kael.
He looked at Thalos.
And in that moment, the Eye of God flickered on.
[Lord Thalos – Vampire Elder. Tier VIII. Blood Affinity: Mind Fog / Contract Weaving / Raven's Whisper.]
[Emotion: Cunning.]
[Thought Layer Detected: "Let's see if the boy folds."]
Kael smiled.
He took one slow step forward and lifted his eyes to meet Thalos's.
Target locked.
He nudged the emotion—just slightly. A brush. Not dominance. Just a whisper of unease.
Thalos blinked.
Flinched.
A bead of sweat traced his temple.
Kael tilted his head, voice light but clear.
"Your doubts are reasonable, my lord," he said. "But if I wanted to prove my power to a snake, I'd simply cut off its head."
A sharp silence fell.
Then—
A soft, amused laugh.
From the throne.
Malrik Valtazar leaned back, his dark eyes glittering with something close to approval.
Seraphine said nothing.
Thalos smiled thinly and bowed his head.
"No need for blood, young prince. I simply enjoy truth."
Kael returned the smile.
"So do I."
That night, Kael sat alone in the library tower. Candles burned low around him, and ancient tomes lay open beside a glass of red wine—untouched.
His thoughts swirled.
Power. Enemies. Expectations.
He was walking a tightrope with monsters on both sides.
And yet…
He had something none of them did.
Not just strength.
Not just talent.
He had insight.
He could see what they couldn't. Feel what they denied. Manipulate what they trusted.
And soon…
He would use it.
Not just to survive.
But to rule.