Liora should have known better. She should have felt the shift in the air the moment the black carriage with the royal crest pulled into the Valehart driveway a week ago.
She should have known that being the daughter of a Duke wouldn't save her when the supreme bloodsuckers of Valoria—came looking for the next sacrificial bride.
Year 1845,
The sky was a deep, bruised gold, with a thin ribbon of pink stretching across the horizon like a fresh wound. It was a beautiful evening, but to Liora, it felt like the world was bleeding.
The air around the estate was thick with the heavy scent of roasted meats, expensive spices, and sweet wine.
Below her balcony, the celebration was in full swing, but the joyous sounds did nothing but tighten the cold knot of dread in her stomach. She stood on the stone balcony, her fingers gripping the cold railing until her knuckles turned white.
From this height, she could see the entire Valehart courtyard. The guests were dancing to the music of pipes and violins. Five musicians stood in the corner, their bows moving in perfect sync as they played a melody that was supposed to be a happy one. To Liora, it sounded like a funeral march.
The ladies in their full skirts and silk ball gowns spun like colorful wheels on the dance floor. Their partners caught their hands, steadying them with a solid, firm hold on their waists. It was a display of grace and wealth, but Liora couldn't stop the goosebumps from rising on her arms.
The music and the laughter felt wrong. Fear slithered down her spine like a cold serpent, reminding her that she was no longer a person—she was a sacrifice.
Below, a long rectangular table draped in expensive white silk displayed the feast. The prestigious Valehart staff moved with practiced speed, fulfilling orders and pouring deep red wine for the esteemed guests.
This was a Call Party—a celebration held every time a new sacrificial bride was chosen.
In Valoria, this had been a ritual for centuries. It was more than just a party; it was a peace treaty. It brought together the fragile humans and the powerful vampires in a gathering that served as a truce between the two races.
As long as a human bride was given to the royal family every year, the bloodsuckers wouldn't hunt the noble houses and humans.
Liora stood there, feeling more numb than she had ever been in her twenty-one years. Her chest felt heavy and tight, like a weight was pressing down on her lungs. She looked down and saw her mother sitting quietly beside her father.
Her father, the Duke, was wearing a sharp, charcoal-black suit that made him look every bit the powerful noble he was. Her mother looked elegant and flawless in a sapphire blue dress, but even from the balcony, Liora could see the sadness in the way she held her glass.
Each year, the bride was chosen from the human nobility. She was a symbol of peace and loyalty. But everyone knew the truth. A month after the wedding, the bride would disappear. She would never be seen again. This was the fate destiny had thrown at her, and there was no way out.
The pain and fear were suffocating, creeping into every part of her body. A single bead of sweat rolled down her cheek despite the cool evening breeze. She couldn't watch the dancing anymore. Without a second glance at the party, she turned and walked away from the balcony. There was no saving her from the claws of the royal court.
"Milady," a familiar voice called out.
The sound of soft heels clicking on the polished marble floor echoed in the hallway. The headmaid came into view, her face pale and her breath coming in short gasps.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. I have bad news: the crown prince won't be showing up for the party tonight," the woman said, her words rushed. She looked at Liora with a gaze that made Liora want to scream. Pity. It was pure, unadulterated pity.
Liora just nodded. She didn't trust her voice to speak. She turned on her heels, her deep red gown fluttering around her legs as she walked away. She didn't care that he wasn't there. In fact, she preferred it.
Rowan O'Carmichael was a memory she wanted to bury deep in her bones. She never wanted to see him again after what had happened during the royal visit two months ago.
That visit had been a royal proclamation where all the eligible young ladies from noble houses were invited to the palace. It was the first stage of picking the bride.
Despite the dark mysteries and the rumors of death surrounding the crown prince, the noblewomen were still obsessed with him. They talked about his beauty and his charisma as if he were a god.
Liora found it irritating. She didn't see a god; she saw a monster in a crown.
On that day, she had visited the royal stables. She had a passion for horses and wanted to ride a white stallion that was only used by the royal family. She had taken her chance, but a man had been faster. He didn't just take the horse; he shoved her off its back. He had looked at her with a cold glare that cut through her like a blade.
The other ladies had laughed and sneered at her. They acted like perfect, sweet girls in front of him but Liora wasn't like them. In the end, she had emptied a bucket of horse dung right on him… and then she found out he was the crown prince. They had hated each other from that very second. She could still see the rage in his eyes every time they crossed paths after that.
Who would have known he would be her husband for one month?
"Liora." The voice was soft and familiar. Relief washed over Liora as she turned to see her best friend.
Without thinking, she reached out for the embrace they had shared since they were children. Victoria was the only one who understood her. Or so she thought.
"Victoria! Where have you been?" Liora asked, pulling back to look at her friend.
"Home," Victoria replied. Her voice had a blunt, sharp edge to it. A strange look crossed her face, something Liora had never seen before. She wasn't looking at Liora with love; she was looking at her with pure jealousy.
"You knew I've always wanted to be his bride," Victoria spat, her eyes glaring like daggers. "You never wanted this, but I did. You took him from me, Liora."
Liora froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a wave of confusion wash over her. "Excuse me—?"
"Enjoy him while you can, Liora. It won't last long. He'll just take another bride after you rot in the ground," Victoria said, stepping back as if Liora were a fire that would burn her.
Liora's mouth hung open in shock. Her heart was drumming heavily against her ribs. "What are you saying? I didn't take him from you! I never wanted this for myself! Victoria, I'm going to die!"
"Lies!" Victoria yelled. Tears formedin her beautiful blue eyes, and her blonde hair bounced as she shook her head. "I should have known you were a snake! I hope you rot in hell, Liora." She gave a cold, cruel smirk and walked away, leaving Liora standing there, reeling from the betrayal.
The pain in Liora's chest tripled. It felt like thousands of needles were piercing her heart. She fell to her knees on the cold marble, her pupils dilating as she gripped her hair.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was being sent to her death, and her own best friend was cursing her.
"I'm not a liar," she whispered, the tears finally falling. "It can't be."
..