The first thing I felt was warmth.
Not the kind born of fire or sun, but the soft, weightless warmth of safety. The mattress beneath me cradled my limbs like a mother's arms—far too gentle, far too kind for a soul like mine.
For a moment, I forgot where I was.
But as my eyes fluttered open, the pale canopy overhead reminded me. Silken curtains danced faintly with the breath of dawn. The scent of blooming nyrelle flowers drifted in through the windows, their perfume soft as snow.
I was still within the Queen's quarters.
Still alive.
A silver robe had been laid across the foot of the bed. Elven make—woven from thread so fine it shimmered like dew under starlight. I touched it with hesitant fingers before slowly slipping it over my shoulders. The fabric kissed my skin like fog.
I rose, bare feet meeting the cool marble floor with a soft sigh.
The door ahead stood silent.
For a heartbeat, I hesitated. Then I pressed it open, its hinges whispering as if not to disturb the peace that lay across the palace like a protective veil.
The hallway beyond greeted me with filtered sunlight. Tall arched windows bathed the corridor in gold and green, the light refracting through stained glass depictions of stars, spirits, and age-old queens whose eyes seemed to follow me.
And then—
"Good morning, lady of the silver flame."
I stopped.
At the far end of the corridor stood three elven maidens in flowing garb—white and pale jade, the colors of morning duty. They bowed gracefully, their hands clasped over their hearts.
I blinked, uncertain how to respond.
One of them stepped forward, her voice melodic and gentle. "We were instructed to see to your comfort should you wake."
"…Comfort?" I asked, my voice still hoarse with sleep.
She nodded, the tips of her ears twitching softly beneath a crown of braided lavender. "A warm bath awaits, and a light meal if you desire. The Queen has instructed us not to rush you. She says… time moves slowly for those who have suffered."
I didn't answer immediately.
Instead, I turned my gaze down the length of the hallway, taking in the high-vaulted ceilings adorned with woven vines and silverlight crystals. The entire place felt alive—yet at peace. A sanctuary carved into the woods and dreams.
"…Very well," I said softly. "Lead the way."
The servants bowed once more before turning, their steps nearly soundless against the marble. I followed behind them, my hands still trembling slightly. Not from fear. Not anymore.
But from the strange, unfamiliar gentleness of this place.
As if, for once, I was not being hunted… but sheltered.
The bathing chambers of the Elven Queen were a place of whispered steam and light.
Soft mist veiled the mirrors. The air was perfumed with crushed moonflowers and a trace of eucalyptus. Lanterns shaped like petals floated atop the surface of the bathing pool, their warm golden glow reflecting off the still water.
I stepped in slowly.
The warmth wrapped around me, unwinding what little tension still clung to my muscles. For the first time in a long while, there was no need to watch my back. No echoes of footsteps behind walls. No whispers of betrayal.
Just silence.
I closed my eyes.
The surface of the pool rippled slightly as I leaned back against the polished stone, letting the water lap against my shoulders. I breathed in, and exhaled softly. My mind drifted—not to the palace, nor to the Queen, nor even to the past.
Just silence.
Until—
Splash.
I jolted upright.
Water sprayed as a small figure leapt into the shallow end, giggling wildly. I instinctively backed away, breath caught in my throat. My claws slightly lengthened beneath the surface before I saw—
A child.
A tiny elf girl, no older than six or seven, hair wild and tied up in ribbons that had mostly fallen loose.
"Oh dear, you frightened me…" I said, placing a hand over my chest as I tried to calm the racing of my heart.
The girl laughed, completely unfazed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, sister!"
She splashed once more, spinning lazily in the water before pausing. Her wide eyes locked onto mine, and her small hand pointed directly.
"Hey sister… what are you?"
I blinked, confused for a moment, until I realized her gaze lingered on the faint glint of my elongated canines—still visible even when I wasn't feeding.
"Well… I'm a vampire, you see," I said gently.
Raising a hand, I conjured a small strand of blood—thread-thin and harmless—curling it into the shape of a tiny bat that fluttered briefly in her direction before dispersing like mist. A harmless trick. One to ease a child's fear.
"Vampire!" she gasped, but with wonder rather than fear. "That's so cool!"
I couldn't help but smile faintly at her innocence.
"What are you doing here then, child?" I asked softly, moving closer and gently patting her head. Her hair was soft, smelling of wild herbs and fresh spring.
"The Queen lets me stay here," she said matter-of-factly, giggling as she splashed water at the nearby floating petals. "Ever since I was born, they said I could roam around and do things 'cause I'm little and quiet and I don't cause trouble."
I watched her with curious eyes.
She was not a noble's child, that was certain. Yet she was here, within the Queen's private quarters, speaking of freedom and familiarity like a trusted cat allowed to wander palace walls.
"The Queen seems to like you," I said, more to myself than to her.
"Yup! She always gives me jellyleaf candies when I help braid her hair. She said I'm a good listener!"
I chuckled softly.
"And what is your name, dear child?"
She beamed. "Popu! That's what everyone calls me!"
"Popu," I echoed. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Popu."
She twirled in the water again, arms splashing like wings.
"You're nice, too," she said. "Even if you're a vampire. You're still warm, I think. Inside."
That caught me by surprise.
Warm? That wasn't something I'd heard in years. Maybe ever.
I watched her play, her presence like a ripple of light in the still waters of my soul. For a moment, the monster inside me quieted. Not erased—but gentled.
And I allowed myself to lean back again into the water, the warmth sinking deeper now.
Perhaps this place… had more to offer than I first believed.
After the bath, I stepped into the dressing chamber just adjacent to the bathing halls. Walls of pale birch and silk curtains surrounded me, and the scent of lavender still clung to my damp hair.
Elven garments were laid neatly on a lacquered bench—robes of muted green and soft silver threads. I ran my fingers across the fabric. Light, flowing, and too wide for my frame… but I didn't mind.
A soft hum echoed behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder and there she was again—Popu, dripping wet, barefoot and trailing water onto the polished floors, her eyes wide as if following a queen in a fairy tale.
"You're still here?" I asked with a raised brow.
She giggled and pointed to the far side of the room where a tiny set of clothes had been neatly folded. "You asked for something small earlier, right? So the lady with the big ears said they were for me!"
I smiled faintly. "Then I suppose you may wear them."
Popu quickly rushed to the corner, changed into the child-sized robes of soft cotton and pastel trims. Her hair remained a tangled mess of curls, and I found myself gently kneeling beside her, tying the loose ribbons properly with practiced hands.
"Don't squirm so much," I said softly as I adjusted her collar.
"I'm trying not to," she whined with a grin, then stuck her tongue out playfully. "You're like a sister! Or maybe a grumpy aunt!"
"Careful," I warned, feigning a glare. "I may start acting like one."
Later, we found ourselves by the palace pools again, though this time I sat properly dressed beneath a shaded alcove, my feet bare as they skimmed the edge of the water. Popu scampered about the stone rim, hopping between pillars and tossing petals into the ripples.
For the first time, I allowed myself a rare stillness.
No obligations. No shadows.
Just a strange little girl… and the oddest sense of peace.
"We apologize for her sudden intrusion," came a soft voice nearby.
An elven servant had approached with her hands folded neatly in front, head bowed low in apology.
"It's quite alright," I replied, glancing toward Popu who was now crouched beside a lily pad, whispering something to a frog. "I don't mind Popu following me around."
I hesitated for a breath, then added with the faintest laugh, "Though I admit… I was rather flustered when I first saw her."
The servant gave a small smile—rare for one of their kind in the Queen's hall—and nodded. "She tends to do that to everyone. But the Queen… she allows her to move freely. There is a reason."
I raised an eyebrow, curious, but the servant only bowed once again and took her leave.
Popu returned moments later, flopping beside me with a sigh and plucking up a wet petal.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, glancing up with innocent eyes.
"No," I said, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You just startled someone who doesn't get startled easily."
"Is that me?" she grinned.
"Yes," I sighed, then cracked a small smile of my own. "That's you."
My first morning here is blissfully peaceful.