••{AZRAEL'S POV}••
The ballroom glows beneath a canopy of crystal chandeliers. Their light splinters across polished marble, casting reflections that seem to dance with us as we move. My hand rests on Rhiannon's waist, steadying her as we glide across the floor. The violins play a hunting tune, sharp and lively, urging us forward in a rhythm that feels almost predestined.
Her ocean-blue eyes catch the light at every turn, and I can't look away. Every flicker of her lashes, every curve of her lips—it draws me deeper, as if gravity itself bends toward her. I feel the pull in my chest, a tug that's impossible to resist, leaving me mesmerized by how beautiful she looks under these lights.
"I didn't expect you to be such a good dancer," she says, her voice light, teasing, but there's still a hint of wariness.
"I'll take that as a compliment," I reply. "I can't remember the last time I did this."
Her laugh is soft, and I feel it in my chest like a warm brush against a cold stone. My lips twitch involuntarily, and for a fleeting moment, I allow myself to enjoy it—to let her presence be a distraction from the weight of everything else.
I notice her eyes drifting to the guests and a shadow crosses her face.
"They… they keep staring," she murmurs. "Like I'm some exotic animal in a cage."
I squeeze her waist gently, and lean in, letting my lips brush against her ear.
"Don't be afraid," I whisper. "Not one of them will dare harm you—not now, not ever. You are their Empress."
The music ends, and we bow to each other. Applause ripples across the room. The chatter and music resume, but the spell between us lingers. I keep my hand at her waist for a moment longer, reluctant to let go.
Then I see Luceris walking toward us, smiling ear to ear. My eyes narrow slightly.
"Rhiannon," I say, and she turns her gaze toward me. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
Luceris reaches us, pulling me into a hug and patting my back. "I can't believe it. You're… married."
"Why do you say it like it's a miracle?" I ask.
"Because it is," he says simply.
I shake my head, I shake my head, half-amused, half-irritated. He turns toward Rhiannon, his eyes lighting up.
"And you," he says, "you're the mysterious bride."
I clear my throat. "Rhiannon, this is my cousin, Luceris of House Mordred, Prince of Noctis."
Luceris bows slightly, placing a hand over his chest. "Finally, it's an honor to meet you," he says, glancing at me for permission before his attention returns to her. "I suppose I should call you Empress now?"
She shakes her head. "Please… no. I don't think I'll ever get used to that."
Luceris chuckles, and I can't help but notice the way he seems genuinely charmed by her.
"I like her," he says, turning back to me. "She's… really beautiful."
I raise a brow.
He holds up his palms, laughing nervously. "I meant that in the platonic sense, of course. She's your wife. Not… anything else."
I place a firm hand on his shoulder. "Relax."
He lets out an awkward laugh, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to enjoy the lightness he brings.
Rhiannon speaks, her voice cautious but polite. "It's nice to meet you too."
Luceris leans in slightly, grinning. "Do you mind if I borrow your husband for a moment?"
••{RHIANNON'S POV}••
The words "my husband" feels wrong. My stomach twists every time I think it, every time someone else says it.
I force a small smile at Luceris.
"I don't mind," I say softly.
Azrael opens his mouth, clearly about to protest, but Luceris waves him off and pulls him away, leaving me standing in the center of the ballroom. My fingers fidget nervously, twisting the folds of my gown as I try to ignore the way dozens of eyes sneak glances at me—or avoid mine altogether.
A warm relief spreads through me when I see Azeria walking toward me, her presence like a familiar current in this strange, suffocating sea.
She pulls me into a hug, and for a moment, the tension in my shoulders eases. When we pull apart, her dark blue eyes sparkle with joy.
"Welcome to House Bloodbourne, Rhiannon," she says. "I'm so happy… it's like my prayers have been answered and now, you're the sister I never had."
"How are you feeling?" she asks.
I shrug, hesitant. "Nervous… uncomfortable. Everyone's either staring at me like I'm the strangest thing they've ever seen, or avoiding me like a plague."
Azeria shakes her head gently. "Don't mind any of it. Something like this has never happened before. You and Azrael… your union is the first of its kind in vampire history."
I nod slowly, trying to absorb her words. Then my eyes drift toward Azrael. He's laughing quietly with Luceris and some of the other nobles. I swallow, and the unease settles back over me.
"Can I… stay beside you for the rest of the night?" I ask Azeria. "I feel… uneasy on my own."
She smiles. "Oh… I understand. Of course. I'll be right here."
That's when a servant approaches us and bows.
"Your Highnesses,"she says, then turns to Azeria, "Princess, The Mother Empress requests your presence."
Azeria's eyes meet mine. "Please don't go," I whisper.
"It's alright. I'll be back soon," she reassures me. "It won't take long."
Reluctantly, I let her leave. The moment she's gone, that same prickling unease returns, settling into my chest like a living thing. My gaze drifts back to Azrael, and I realize I can't just stand here—I need to be near him.
I take a step toward him, but someone catches my attention from the corner of my eye.
She's in a shimmering amethyst gown, standing among a small circle of guests, laughing softly, her hand resting delicately on the stem of a wine glass. She's speaking confidently, completely at ease as if she owns the space around her.
Azrael's mistress.
Delilah.
Her gaze briefly flicks toward me, and there's a spark of something smug in the way she smirks.
My jaw tightens.
Before I can question myself, I'm already walking toward her. As I near, she turns slightly, lifting her glass to her lips. And that's when I gently brush her arm with a subtle, perfectly-timed shift of my steps.
The wine spills in a sudden cascade of deep red across her bodice.
Gasps ripple through the small circle around her.
Delilah jerks back, staring at the stain as if she can't comprehend what just happened.
I bring a hand to my mouth. "Oh—gods, I'm so sorry," I say, my voice soft, and full of feigned distress. "I didn't see you there."
Her jaw tightens, but behind her perfect smile, her eyes flash with anger. She knows she can't say anything to me. Not here at least.
"Empress," she forces out through clenched teeth, "it's… alright."
"I feel terrible," I continue, gently placing a hand over my chest. "That dress was beautiful. I hope it wasn't ruined."
"It can be replaced," she says with a stiff smile.
The stain is enormous. It absolutely can't be saved.
I offer her a sympathetic smile. "I'm glad to hear it."
For a moment, our eyes lock, and even though I'm the one apologizing, it feels like I've won something small but significant.
Delilah excuses herself, her feathers ruffled, her composure slipping as she disappears toward the exit—no longer able to continue socializing, just as I intended.
I exhale softly, adjust my gloves, and step away from the stunned nobles who witnessed the entire thing.
But as I turn, I nearly collide with someone.
The woman standing in front of me is otherworldly, draped in deep crimson with a golden crown studded with emeralds resting on top of her red hair. She bows slightly.
"Empress," she says, her voice smooth and melodic, "it is finally good to meet you."
"And you are?" I ask cautiously.
"Queen Lilith of House Blackthorne, ruler of Crimsonholde."
I nod politely, trying to sidestep her. "It's nice to meet you too… but I need to get to my husband."
She blocks my path.
I step back, my brows drawing together.
Lilith narrows her eyes, studying me carefully. "I find you… peculiar."
"And why is that?" I ask, unease creeping into my voice.
"Because I wonder why the Emperor married you in the first place."
I frown, uneasy with the intensity in her gaze.
She places a hand over her chest. "Apologies if my words sound crude. I simply wish to understand why the Emperor chose a human."
"If you don't mind me asking," she continues. "Did you and the Emperor know each other before all this?"
I hesitate, then shake my head. "I… we didn't know each other before this."
Lilith tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Hm… strange."
"You come from Astragarde, and from what I've heard, Azrael abducted you and brought you here. You haven't even been in Darkholme for a fortnight. If you and Azrael never knew each other prior, there's no reason to think this marriage comes from love. It's not as if he desires something from your kingdom—otherwise, he would have just taken it without having to do all of this," she says, gesturing subtly to the ballroom around us.
Her gaze pins me like a blade. "So tell me, Empress… why did the Emperor take you from your home and force you into this marriage?"
"I'm done having this conversation," I mutter and turn to step past her, but she blocks my way.
"Get out of my way." I say.
"Please, answer me, Empress. Answer the question that's been on the lips of everyone in this room."
My stomach tightens, my pulse races, and a cold sweat pricks my skin as she steps closer, blocking my path.
"I said get out of my way!" I lash out, trying to push past her, but she's too fast.
When I try to move the other way, she catches my wrist. I forcefully wench my hand free from her grip, but my glove slips, and one of her nails cuts my skin.
The moment I see the blood blooming bright red against my skin, the music, the chatter, even the soft clink of glasses—all of it stops.
Everyone in the ballroom is motionless as if time itself went still.
They're all frozen mid-step, frozen mid-sentence… but their eyes are locked on me.
I turn back to Lilith. Her eyes are wide and glowing, almost unreal.
Then I turn and Azrael's eyes meet mine. He's frozen, his golden eyes are wide and glowing too.
He speaks, his voice cutting through the frozen silence, barely above a whisper.
"Run."