''Truly, the young miss lives up to her reputation,'' Caedmon's ardent stare lingered, the corners of his lips subtly curved upward. Without tearing his eyes off the girl, he took the knife and beckoned his bride to extend her hand. "A little cut wouldn't cost a life but it would still hurt. Bear with it, milady."
Elizabeth, brushing aside his polite aptness, willingly spread her palm before him, ''You flatter me, milord. But this subject held no such prestige back home. Surely, you're not left out in the dark, are you?''
When Caedmon's palm unhurriedly roofed over hers, a cool, nipping sensation gradually radiated through her skin. Elizabeth dropped her gaze, scrutinizing their overlapping hands with indifference. Vampires are creatures with a low body temperature, which influences the entirety of their appearance. Their skin looks so pale just like white jade, depicting a luster and fineness that mirrors their uncordial nature.
Bethany, who once fought on the borders, would often fill Elizabeth's nights with stories about her encounters with their enemies. Although imminently vicious and inhumane, vampires are endowed with an impeccable visage: a stark contrast to their pursuit of gore and blood. When basked underneath a midnight moon, these night creatures became so ethereal they seemed unreal beings, as though they weren't meant to be living among the mortals, but in places where their distinction could flourish untainted.
If not for their bloody fangs, I would have fucked one. Suddenly, Jakobe's unfiltered words rang in Elizabeth's ears. Her childhood friend, a dignified Colonel who led several districts in the mortal land, expressing such unrestrained desire, attested to vampires' compelling beauty, and the pureblooded Lord before her was the exact definition of spectral comeliness.
His long hair, which was tied in a loose yet clean knot, was glossy and ink black, turning his white jade skin even more paler, and as he was bathed by the rays of the sun that peeked through the large windows, his dark shadow loomed over her, bearing a resemblance to a deity. The man stood tall, ripped, and elegant, so otherworldly that one would mistake him for a god.
Elizabeth, being this close to the Lord of Arkavis, could say nothing more but silently agree with Jakobe. Vampires are indeed beautiful creatures.
Following the thumb that slipped through between the crook of her own thumb, her strayed thoughts were interrupted. His palm felt rather too cold against the back of her hand. Elizabeth's brows slightly creased, a bit puzzled by the winter-like contact of his grasp. Before she could feel him more, she heard him hum in response, his thumb rubbing her palm as though he was searching for the best flesh to cut.
''But you are excellent with guns and daggers, I heard.''
In a flash, the sharp knife slit her palm.
Elizabeth winced as she wordlessly peered up at the pureblooded Lord, enduring the pain. Her blood began to seep through her wound, and its fresh scent filled the air inside the church. The vampires present sneakily took a sniff, inhaling the untouched fragrance of their Lordship's bride.
Sensing the sudden hunger arising among the bloodsuckers, she roamed her gaze around the church. Pairs of radiant, red eyes were ogling at her wounded hand, the look of desire and thirst was evident. Her bleeding palm shifted the atmosphere, and in an instant, the air became suffocating.
For a few seconds, she was hesitant to look at the man standing next to Jakobe, unwilling to witness the same fervent cravings from him. The mere sight of it would certainly crush her. In the end, Elizabeth decided to drift her gaze back to the Lord of Arkavis, and as soon as their eyes met, she was rendered speechless.
Caedmon's amber orbs turned into crimson, mirroring the bloody moon that only comes once in a hundred years. Dark, devoid of emotions, and utterly consuming—Elizabeth couldn't avert her gaze. She barely even noticed that the pureblooded vampire had already cut his own palm with the same knife he used on her. His blood filled another cup.
Her governess once mentioned that there were only three reasons why the pureblood's eyes would shift their eye colors into dark crimson. First, to display their superiority over other vampires. Second, to express their hunger and desire for blood. Third, to unmask the depth of their emotions like love, anger, yearning, and obsession. However, when these three combine, there would be bloodshed.
Elizabeth, beholding the sight for the first time, wondered which of these reasons the Lord of Arkavis was feeling at this moment.
''To covet the bride's blood in my presence is quite impudent,'' smiling at the crowd, Caedmon's crimson orbs hardened. His voice was deep and gentle yet it carried an overbearing weight.
When the vampires heard of this, they obediently bowed their heads and dropped to their knees, confusing the mortals who remained standing. Jakobe murmured crisp curses under his breath while Alexander wore an expressionless face, unbothered by the commotion. Meanwhile, Chief Commander Solomon felt rather conflicted.
It took only one glance from the Lord of Arkavis to bring his kind into submission. Such supreme dominance would undoubtedly secure the safety of his daughter whilst she stayed in Arkavis. As a father, Solomon felt relieved. But that same superiority and power could also be the end of Elizabeth's life.
For the past three years, the vampire community has been nothing but compliant. Although on some occasions when their inherent arrogance gets to their heads, they still behave accordingly, obeying the new rules and laws of mortal-vampire coercion.
Lord Caedmon honored his words, promoting harmony, peace, and prosperity with the mortals, which was not only beneficial to humans but also to the Armed Forces. But his reserved character, cold demeanor, and indecipherable intentions, had left Solomon feeling distrustful. Even to this day, he often questions his decision to marry off Elizabeth to his mortal enemy.
Whatever pushed him to agree to this marriage, the Chief Commander could only hope that when he and his wife would meet in another lifetime, she would forgive him for his selfishness. He earnestly hoped that Yalena would overlook his excuses and spare him the consequences.
''You..you may now exchange the cups and drink your blood,'' the vicar broke the stifling silence, his forehead dripping with cold sweat. ''Milady, milord, please...'' he beckoned with utmost respect, afraid of offending the Lord of Arkavis.
''Arise.''
Caedmon casually commanded, and only then did the vampires who were still on their knees, rise obediently on their feet. He then quietly extended his hand, reaching not for the golden cups, but to the young miss' wounded hand. The cut was not deep but it has marred her smooth palm. His gaze brooded over the wound he inflicted, contemplating, before he took out a red, satin handkerchief, and carefully wrapped it around her hand, placing a bit of pressure on the knot to stop the bleeding.
The gesture surprised the vicar, almost losing his wits for neglecting the bride's comfort. Normally, the cut would heal on its own, but he momentarily forgot that the bride was a mortal; she did not possess a healing power like the Lords. But before the vicar could apologize for his mistake, Caedmon lifted the red veil, and Elizabeth's face finally came into view.
The crowd was struck with momentary silence.
When the Lord of Arkavis brought up the engagement three years ago, there was a rumor that he was perhaps captivated by an irresistible beauty from the land of the Commonwealth. After all, it is in the vampires' nature to be naturally attracted to young mortals, those who are fresh and inexperienced, and their Lordship no matter how distinguished, is no exception. The younger the mortal, the sweeter their blood would taste. The more delicate they would appear, the more vampires would play the role of a hunter.
The young miss, however, was kept in the Capital City, and the place was impenetrable. Whether her beauty lived up to the hearsay among the night creatures, nobody could verify until today.
Beneath the long, red veil was a heart-shaped face, wearing a serene expression. There was elegance with the way she tilted her head to the pureblooded vampire as though meeting their Lordship's crimson orbs was a naught but normal occurrence. Her braided, platinum hair was decorated with gold hairpins and rubies, bringing a rosy radiance over her spotless cheeks, making her fair skin glow in the sunlight.
But what was even more beguiling was the fact that she was an insignificant, ungifted mortal, yet she stood before the Lord of Arkavis with a strange sense of detachment and nonchalance. Her pale purple orbs conveyed no particular emotions as though she felt neither joy nor sadness over her wedding. Whether it was naive arrogance or feigned stillness, the young miss has piqued the vampires' interest.
After the two exchanged and drank their blood, the wedding proceeded inside the Castle of Ridgehelm where the celebratory banquet was prepared for the guests. For once, they disregarded their differences and enjoyed the festive meals. The hall was soon filled with jokes and laughter.
''Congratulations on your wedding, milord. May this union strengthen the relationship of vampires and mortals in the coming years,'' Lazarus Evander, a noble vampire and the current Head of the Union Council, stood from his seat and spoke earnestly. Turning to the Chief Commander of the Commonwealth, he added, ''The Chief Commander was nothing but sincere in his intentions during the trial period. May this peace amidst our disparity last a lifetime!''
''May this peace last a lifetime,'' others chimed in, toasting their glasses of wine to the newly married couple, wishing the two a long-lasting marriage. This union might be political but there are still some of them who genuinely hope that both Arkavis and the Commonwealth will continue to coexist in peace.
Elizabeth sipped her wine in silence, trying to erase the metallic taste of blood that lingered in her mouth. They were seated at a separate table but she remained mute nonetheless, keeping her thoughts private. There were things she wanted to speak with the Lord of Arkavis but they were not in the right place.
From her seat, her eyes wandered around the vast hall until they landed on Alexander, who at the same time, turned his head at her. Their eyes met at last, and seeing that Alexander's dull, purple irises bore no such thirst as those of the vampires, relief mixed with guilt spread in her chest. But this exchange of glances was shortly interrupted by the Lord of Arkavis, who all of a sudden, spoke beside her.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
Elizabeth tore her eyes off the Colonel, facing Caedmon.
"What?"
"Your hand," his lashes lowered. "Does it still hurt?"
A small, taunting smile fell on Elizabeth's lips.
"Does his Lordship care for his subject now?"
Caedmon pensively stared at her face.
"You're my wife, not my subject."
Elizabeth unflinchingly held his gaze.
"Lord Caedmon is a gentleman indeed,'' she replied dispassionately, diverting her attention back to the guests. ''My wound's fine.''
Caedmon said nothing in return, allowing silence to etch between them. But his gaze sauntered a little longer on the young miss' soft jawline down to her slender neck, preoccupied. Not long after, he, too, averted his stare.
As soon as the guests had their fill of wine and food, the officials of the Union Council and the Chief Commander of the Commonwealth, accompanied by several Colonels and Lieutenants from the Armed Forces, were ushered into the west part of the castle. Caedmon went with them, leaving some instructions to Salathiel to accompany the young miss to the bridal chamber.
Salathiel is Caedmon's personal knight, and Elizabeth has had a few encounters with him for the past three years. The knight is a vampire of few words, his expression is always serious, almost brooding. But he is starkly loyal to the Lord of Arkavis, following whatever mission Caedmon would order him to do. Thanks to Jakobe's intel, Elizabeth has this much information about him.
Apart from Salathiel, two female servants were also walking behind her, and as soon as they entered the bridal chamber, they were quick to do their tasks. One was lighting up the scented candles and the fireplace, while the other prepared some hot water in the bathtub. Salathiel, on the other hand, was rooted to his feet by the door, his red eyes scanning the entire room.
Still unfamiliar with this treatment, Elizabeth didn't utter a single word. Back in the Capital City, although pampered by those people around her, she had only Bethany to attend to her needs. Mortals were not accustomed to having a number of servants moving around in a household. Moreover, they addressed people by their names unless they served in the Armed Forces. Arkavis, however, is a land bound by strict propriety.
Watching the servants meticulously doing their job, Elizabeth gradually felt complicated. She wore a red dress for her wedding day, got her palm cut by a sharp knife, and drank a pureblood's blood—everything that had happened today was new to her, and as her eyes drifted to the bed adorned with a red velvet cover, her vexation heightened.
''We are right outside the door if you need anything, milady.''
The servants bowed and left the room. Salathiel soundlessly followed them and shut the door behind him, finally giving Elizabeth some time to collect her thoughts. She let out a deep sigh, lifted her hands to take off her veil, and walked to the side of the bed. She sat there in a daze, waiting.
After some time, she bent over, her hand feeling the side of her right calf. Pulling up the hem of her dress, she unclasped the dagger that was tightly fastened around her leg. Since the young miss was ungifted, she was taught how to use sharp weapons like swords, knives, daggers, and arrows. When the Armed Forces developed firearms, the Chief Commander especially procured customized guns for her to carry around. But would all these weapons be useful against the pureblooded Lord of Arkavis?
Inside the bridal chamber, Elizabeth looked like a lamb in a lion's den, lying in wait for her death, and as if the lion ran out of patience, footsteps were nearing the bridal chamber. Her grip on the dagger tightened as her eyes were sharply fixated on the door. She heard Caedmon speaking with Salathiel and the servants, dismissing their presence for the night.
After a while, silence fell outside the door.
Elizabeth held her breath.
Caedmon, on the other side, dropped his eyes on the door handle. Pureblooded vampires have keen senses, and from where he stood, he could hear the young miss' heart pounding erratically. Her breathing became uneven, and her steps were careful. Noting her restlessness, an imperceptible smile curled on his lips as he flung the door open, but before he could enter their room, a dagger was fiercely thrown at him.
Unfazed, Caedmon didn't dodge, facing the murderous intent of her bride. In a snap, the dagger went past his cheek, cutting his white jade skin. Salathiel, who was still in the hallway, turned around at the sound of 'thud' behind him, and was stunned to see a sharp dagger stuck on the wall.
''Milord!''
At the same time, Caedmon calmly commented, ''Not bad.''
Salathiel rushed to his side but was even more surprised to see that the bride was the one who targeted his Lordship. Unsure how to handle the situation, Salathiel stood there dumbfounded. Any attempt to harm the Lord of Arkavis, whether by accident or not, is punishable by death. But how is he supposed to act on it?
''Leave us.''
''But—''
''My bride and I are into assaultive role play. You're not here to join us, are you now, Salathiel?'' Caedmon asked. "Neither did you see nor hear anything from here. You can leave."
Salathiel, though hesitant, bowed his head. He didn't dare peek inside the bridal chamber, and when he finally retreated, only then did Caedmon close the door behind him, fixing his crimson orbs to Elizabeth.
''Guns would work better on me, milady.''
''Any weapons are useless against you, milord.''
''You wouldn't know unless you try."
Taking off his coat, he glanced at the bed. The pillows were neatly arranged, seemingly untouched, but he knew that underneath them, a revolver was hidden. His servant reported it to him early this morning but he spared no thought on the matter. But right now, discerning the young miss' aversion toward him, Caedmon suddenly wanted to see what other armaments his bride prepared for him.
"Load your gun and shoot me.''
Elizabeth stared at him, unmoving. The small cut on his cheek is now healed, his pale skin unblemished and spotless. His eyes, which remained dark red, glistened in the dimly lit room. As expected, the pureblooded vampire was not at all rattled. Elizabeth understood very well that she stood no chance against the Lord of Arkavis, yet she acted on it nonetheless. For the past three years, she stayed patient; her thoughts reserved, saving them for this day.
''There are things I would like to clarify with you, milord.''
As though he was anticipating this, Caedmon unhurriedly popped the buttons of his inner vest, loosened his tie, and signaled her to continue, ''Ask away, milady."
''When you proposed the peace treaty three years ago, you said in your letter that Alexander had been corrupted, and to stabilize his mental state, he must only drink a pureblood's blood which was in your possession,'' Elizabeth's gaze turned frigid. ''You take advantage of his misfortunes and use them against the Commonwealth, even threatening me outside my father's knowledge. If I were to trace the orders of these events, it seemed to me that his corruption was plotted beforehand, which led us to this marriage. Now, pray tell, milord. Was his corruption purely a coincidence?''
''It was,'' Caedmon, pouring himself a glass of red wine, sat on the couch and responded without hesitation. ''The Colonel's misfortune was a coincidence I took advantage of, yes. However, his corruption was not my doing."
Elizabeth searched his eyes, hoping to spot any hint of lies, but all she could fathom was the crimson color of his orbs, nothing else. "Who infected him, then?"
"A pureblood from my clan."
"And you expect me to believe that you didn't scheme Alexander's corruption?" she scoffed. "How can I be so certain that you didn't order that pureblood of yours to attack him while he was defenseless?"
"Well, haven't I honored my words for the past three years? You mortals may find us wicked, but we purebloods aren't fond of lies. If I had intended to corrupt the Colonel, I would have done so earlier than three years ago."
Elizabeth clenched her fist, "Should I then presume that this marriage will happen regardless?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Caedmon's thumb slowly traced the rim of the glass, then paused. "It's late. We'll have this conversation tomorrow," he said, placing the glass on the table, and standing up. "If you may excuse me, milady."
"Where are you going? We aren't done talking."
Taken aback by his dismissal, she followed right after him.
"To take a bath. I'm quite sleepy."
"Vampires don't sleep."
Caedmon suddenly whipped around, catching her off guard. Elizabeth immediately halted her steps and lifted her chin. Their eyes met, and this time, his orbs were back to their warm, sunset glow. In the corner inside the bridal chamber which was devoid of light, they turned out so golden, blazing at her.
"Hm, this pureblood is in poor health," Caedmon muttered in a low, raspy voice. The corners of his mouth hooked into a suggestive smile, "After a long, tiring day, I do need some rest. Don't you, too, Elizabeth?''