CHAPTER FIVE: Claws Beneath Silk
The hallway was dimly lit, the long shadows cast by the golden sconces flickering against the stone walls of the lycan palace. Esterphania had just left the garden, where she had been admiring the strange bluish flowers that glowed faintly under the evening sun. Her thoughts had wandered back to her mother, as they often did these days—soft eyes, warm voice, the touch of her hand brushing through her wild red curls.
She was rounding a corner toward the staircase leading to her quarters when a firm hand slammed against the stone beside her head, halting her in her tracks. Her blood-red eyes snapped up to meet the furious golden ones of Alexander de Von Silver.
The prince.
The heir to the lycan throne.
She didn't flinch.
"You're not welcome here," he snarled, his body caging her against the wall. "You're an outcast. A mistake. You'll never fit in."
There was no fear in her gaze. Instead, her eyes danced with wicked amusement as she tilted her head slightly, the candlelight catching in the gleam of her lashes.
"At least I know my place," she said smoothly, her voice like dark silk. "So it's easier for me. What about you?"
He blinked.
"You're just an entitled brat," she went on, her mouth curving in a heart-shaped smirk. "You think you own everything just because you were born with a crown hovering over your head. You walk around acting like the world owes you something. It doesn't. And if you think you can rule with that childish mindset, then may the gods help your kingdom—because you are going to suffer."
Alexander's mouth parted in stunned silence. He'd never been spoken to like that—especially not by a ten-year-old girl with crimson eyes and an eerie calmness that made his blood stir.
"You—" he began.
"Stop it, Alex," a voice cut in like a whip.
Both turned toward Melody, who had appeared from behind the corridor, her expression stern but calm.
"She's just a child," Melody continued, folding her arms. "And you're behaving like she stole your birthright."
Alexander clenched his jaw. "You're lucky," he spat at Esterphania, then turned on his heel and stormed off down the corridor.
Esterphania exhaled slowly and smoothed her dress with both hands, straightening with quiet elegance. "Don't mind him," Melody said gently. "He's... frustrated."
Esterphania didn't respond. She simply lifted her chin and walked away with the kind of grace that came naturally to a girl born of fire and shadow.
---
Dinner was tense that evening.
Esterphania entered the grand dining hall dressed in soft sapphire silk, her hair brushed and flowing like bloodied flames down her back. She took her seat quietly, noting the hard line of Alexander's jaw and the way his knuckles whitened around his silver goblet.
He wouldn't even look at her.
The king, however, smiled.
"Esterphania," Lucien said, "I've made a decision. I'm going to hire someone to help you train—to learn how to control your magic."
The announcement hung in the air like a dropped blade.
Alexander slammed his goblet onto the table, wine sloshing over the rim. "As if there are any demons or vampires left to teach this thing how to control herself."
Esterphania's fingers twitched beneath the table, her heart pounding.
"Alexander!" Lucien roared, his voice crackling with the weight of command. "This is your last warning. You will not like the man I become if you cross this line again."
Alexander muttered something under his breath and rolled his eyes but said nothing further. Melody reached under the table and gently touched his hand, calming him with a glance.
Lucien turned back to Esterphania. "There's an old lycan woman here—Marilena. She's a scholar. A historian who's studied the old magics—demonic, vampiric, and even light. You'll begin training with her in the mornings."
Esterphania looked up at him with a soft gasp. For the first time, real gratitude shimmered behind her crimson gaze. "Thank you," she whispered.
---
That night, long after the candles had burned low and the castle had quieted to its heartbeat hum, Lucien sat in his chambers, removing the last of his ceremonial robes when a knock came at the door.
"Enter," he said.
His commander stepped inside, cloaked in shadow and concern. "My king. I need to speak with you. About... the girl."
Lucien didn't turn. He reached for his silver hairpin and began removing the bindings from his long hair. "What about her?"
"She's dangerous," the commander said carefully. "The court murmurs about her, and the people whisper her name like an omen. A demon-vampire hybrid… the very existence of her could bring chaos."
Lucien turned slowly, his expression unreadable.
"Have you ever seen a wounded animal?" he asked softly. "One that's been hunted, beaten, left to die?"
The commander hesitated. "Yes... of course."
Lucien's voice lowered. "And what happens when you nurse it back to health? When you feed it, heal it, show it kindness?"
The commander's brows furrowed.
"They become loyal," he said slowly.
Lucien's smile was faint. "Fiercely. Beyond blood. Beyond reason. They will burn kingdoms for you."
Realization dawned in the commander's eyes. "My king… you don't mean…"
"Yes," Lucien said calmly. "She's not just a guest. Or a charity case. She's an investment."
The commander's breath hitched. "You're... using her."
"I like her," Lucien admitted. "There's a strength in that girl that neither you nor Alexander can understand yet. She will protect this kingdom one day. She will love it, bleed for it. And when that day comes, we'll need her loyalty."
"And if she finds out?"
"She's smart. She probably already knows," Lucien said, his expression solemn. "But the truth? It won't matter. Because she'll choose to stay anyway."
Outside the king's chamber, the moon rose high—silent and silver, casting shadows on stone and secrets alike.
And in her room, Esterphania lay in bed, eyes open, wide and bright in the dark.
She had heard everything.