Morning light kissed my skin when the bedroom door creaked open. I caught Fay, our shy maid, practically jumping out of her skin when she realized I was already awake. She immediately dropped into a bow, worry etched across her features.

  “Good morning, my lady. I’ll be tending to you this morning until the others arrive. Since you’re up, I’ll start your bath.” She turned toward the washroom, but I couldn’t let her go. Not yet.

  “You’re a mixed blood.” The discovery had been burning in my mind. I wanted to understand what being a mixed blood entailed, a question I had yet to ask. She turned back slowly, chin lifting with the tiniest spark of defiance.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Ehmm—” Her confidence wavered. “Like being a mere mortal, if I can even call myself that.” Her eyes darted away, unable to hold my gaze.

  “So you can’t—”

  “Turn?” Her pale face flushed crimson. “I don’t even crave blood.” Something in her tone made my heart ache.

  “I’m sorry if this is a sensitive subject.”

  “It’s fine.” She straightened her apron with trembling fingers. “Do you mind if I go draw your bath? The coal gets cool pretty quick.”

  “Sure.” As she hurried away, guilt gnawed at me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have pressed her.

  Osha and Siren soon joined the morning ritual, bringing in breakfast and fashion expertise. After nibbling at a jelly bagel and sipping lavender tea, I let myself be pampered – bath, fresh bandage over my wound, and dressing for the day.

  My crown sat atop a carefully arranged messy bun, strategically hiding any evidence of my accident. I found myself wondering what the royals had planned, where the prince might be. The mere thought of Nel made my eyes roll. Damn him for invading my thoughts at random moments. I needed a distraction before I started wrestling with my emotions again, particularly the rage that seemed to simmer whenever he crossed my mind.

  Siren’s reflection appeared behind mine in the mirror, but instead of her usual cheerful compliments, her face was drawn with concern.

  “Be careful today,” she said, her usually sparkling brown eyes dim with worry.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The prince has a mistress. I thought she’d left…” Of course she didn’t. “But I saw her in town this morning at the Royal Boutique, presumably shopping for tonight. You should stay away from her.”

  “I already know about Ann,” I said, adjusting my bun with forced nonchalance. “In fact, I met her.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Oh!” Confusion flickered across her face. I turned from the mirror, smoothing my gown. “Why would she need a dress? What’s happening tonight?”

  “There’s a ceremony honoring the troops before they leave for Agarta tomorrow morning. You’re expected to attend.” Her voice dropped.

  “And she’ll be there. I’m worried – she’s only coming to mark her territory.”

  “Mark her territory?” I scoffed. “I’m not trying to get between them. She needn’t mark anything!”

  “You don’t know her! There is gossip about her being jealous about the prince and your rescue.”

  “What are you talking about?” Confusion knitted my brows together.

  “He rescued you after your fall.” Siren’s bewilderment matched my own. “You didn’t know?”

  My hands stilled on my dress. “I was unconscious. How could I?” Heat crept up my neck. “As for Ann,” I said, steel entering my voice, “I refuse to waste energy worrying about some bitter woman. I have bigger concerns – the war, my father’s safety.” My voice cracked. “Everything is happening so fast.”

  It felt like drowning: Father’s sudden alliance, shipping me off to Ustoria, the horrifying royals, and now this war. Reality had become a whirlwind, and I was caught in its center. Siren squeezed my shoulder.

  “Your father will conquer those beasts with Ustoria’s help.” She smiled gently. “Focus on the wedding. Let the men worry about the rest.”

  “Right… the wedding.” My throat tightened at the reminder of my powerlessness – being handed over to a vampire prince like some political token. Tears burned behind my eyes. I needed to change the subject. “Any news of Naomi?”

  “Who?”

  “A friend joining my court. Could you find out where she is? I’m worried.”

  “Of course. I’ll look into it now.”

  A soldier escorted me to the wardrobe chamber to try on wedding gowns afterward. I stopped short at the sight of countless gowns arranged like a rainbow across metal racks. “Are these all mine?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it.

  “Luxuries approved by the prince,”said the soldier before leaving to bid me privacy.

  I felt my certainties crumbling. How could I reconcile these gestures – the rescue, these beautiful dresses – with everything I’d been taught about vampires? About Nel?

  A theatrical gentleman approached with a pleasant greeting - the seamstress, as it turned out. He presented three wedding dresses with flourishing gestures, and I tried each one. After an hour of taping, measurements, and alterations, I left with one in mind. That’s when I decided to search for the prince to thank him.

  For everything. Of all beings, I hadn’t expected him to be my rescuer. In fact I hadn’t thought much of it at all, assuming Fiora’s spies took heed to my fall. There had to be some good in him, some capacity for care. Uuhg! Don’t be fooled. He’s still a vampire. No matter, I owed him thanks, especially after giving him such a hard time every chance I could, justified as my irritation had been.

  “Where’s Prince Neltavio?” I asked the soldier as we walked through the halls. “He’s in the yard doing his morning sparring.”

  “Can you take me to him?”

  “I certainly can.”

  We followed the walkway outside to a private field adjacent to the blood roses. Nel was clashing swords with two soldiers, but the seasoned fighters were no match for him. He swiveled and charged, disarming each opponent with apparent ease. His chuckle proved how little effort it took as he lunged forward, pretending to slit one throat while spinning his blade toward the other’s heart.

  I couldn’t help but smirk, impressed despite myself. His white button-up was drenched from the long hour of physical activity, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck. When he removed his shirt to wipe his brow, heat rushed to my face. Another round was being wagered by one of the fighters, but Nel’s eyes lit up as I approached.

  “That’s it for today,” he told the men, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “Princess Loretta, what do I owe the honor?”

  “I wanted to thank you for saving me… and the dresses.”

  He gave a subtle nod. “You’re welcome.”