The door opened unceremoniously.
Without announcent.
Without any attempt to maintain the etiquette that the environnt clearly demanded.
Kael simply pushed the heavy wood open with one hand, his gaze already moving before his body, prepared to find tension, ard guards, maps scattered on a table, discussions laden with strategy, or at the very least, so atmosphere of urgency.
But what he found was...
Normal.
Strangely normal.
The room was spacious, illuminated by tall windows that let in the morning light softly, reflecting on the golden details of the decor. A round table occupied the center, with two chairs occupied, and on it was a tray arranged with almost irritating perfection: a porcelain teapot, two delicate cups, small plates with sweets and carefully cut fruit.
No maps.
No soldiers.
No crisis.
Just... coffee.
Hella sat with impeccable posture, one leg crossed over the other, holding her cup with calculated elegance, as if each of her movents were part of a silent performance. Her eyes lifted first, eting Kael’s, whose expression was too neutral to be genuine.
Beside her, Hadrian maintained a relaxed posture, though his presence naturally dominated the space. He held his own cup calmly, as if this were just another ordinary mont in his routine, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding outside those walls.
They both looked at Kael.
At the sa instant.
Synchronized.
And for a brief mont...
Silence.
"...How exactly did you get in here?" Hadrian asked, his voice calm but laden with genuine curiosity, as if trying to decide if it was audacity or simply inevitable.
Before Kael could answer, a second voice erged behind him, hurried and visibly nervous.
"Excuse ! I tried to stop you—"
Elayne appeared in the doorway right behind him, bowing quickly in a formal gesture, almost curtsying as she spoke, her expression a mixture of embarrassnt and slight tension at clearly breaking protocol.
"He... insisted on seeing you imdiately. Said it was urgent."
Hadrian looked at her.
And, contrary to what many would expect, there was no irritation on his face.
Just... understanding.
He nodded slightly.
"It’s alright, Elayne."
His tone was calm, almost gentle, the kind of voice that didn’t need to assert itself to be obeyed.
"Thank you for bringing him."
She hesitated for a mont, clearly surprised not to be reprimanded, before nodding again and taking a few steps back, still remaining close enough not to appear to be abandoning her duty.
Hadrian then turned his gaze to Kael.
And it was at that mont that sothing changed.
Because now he truly looked.
Observed.
And understood.
Kael’s expression wasn’t that of soone who had co to provoke.
Nor soone who had co to negotiate.
It was... serious.
Focused.
Direct.
And that made the atmosphere, however tranquil it seed, take on a different weight.
Hadrian slowly placed the cup on the table.
Without haste.
But with intention.
"You don’t seem like soone who ca for a casual visit," he said, tilting his head slightly, his eyes fixed on Kael with renewed interest. "I imagine you have sothing important to say."
Kael didn’t answer imdiately.
He entered the room completely, closing the door behind him with a simple but firm movent, as if sealing the space for what was to co. His eyes quickly scanned the room once more, confirming the absence of other relevant presences.
Confident. For now.
He then walked to the table.
Without asking permission.
Without sitting down.
Just stopping at a comfortable distance, close enough not to seem intrusive, but close enough to make it clear that this wasn’t a distant conversation.
He looked first at Hella.
Then at Hadrian.
And then he spoke.
"Your problem isn’t an invasion."
The words were direct.
No introduction.
No softening.
Hella raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing.
Hadrian, however, frowned slightly.
"Explain."
A single word.
But enough.
Kael held his gaze.
"The vampires who entered your territory aren’t here to conquer anything," he said, his voice firm, controlled, each word precisely placed. "They’re fleeing."
Silence.
Different now.
Heavier.
Hella gently placed the cup on the saucer, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she were reorganizing internal information with absurd speed.
Hadrian crossed his arms.
"Running from what?"
Kael didn’t hesitate.
"From the kingdom itself."
The answer landed like a stone in the center of the table.
Hella tilted her head slightly, her gaze becoming sharper.
"That’s a serious claim," she said, her tone calm but clearly assessing. "And unusual."
Kael shrugged.
"It’s also true."
Hadrian kept his eyes fixed on him.
"Are you saying the Vampire Kingdom is... collapsing?"
Kael shook his head slowly.
"Not yet."
A pause.
"But it’s heading in that direction."
He then took a small step forward, placing a hand lightly on the table, leaning his body just enough to make his presence more dominant in the conversation.
"This isn’t an invasion," he continued. "It’s a disorganized flight of groups being hunted within their own territory."
Hella crossed her hands on the table, her fingers intertwined, her gaze fixed on Kael with a much clearer interest now.
"Hunted by whom?"
Kael answered without hesitation.
"By the king himself."
The silence that followed was unlike any before.
Deeper.
More dangerous.
Hadrian didn’t move.
But his attention... intensified.
"That doesn’t make sense," he said slowly. "No ruler initiates an indiscriminate hunt against his own people without reason."
Kael inclined his head slightly.
"Exactly."
Hella smiled.
Slightly.
A small smile, almost imperceptible, but full of recognition.
"Then there’s more," she said.
It wasn’t a question.
Kael nodded.
"There is."
He looked directly at the two of them.
Without looking away.
Without hesitating.
"Soone is manipulating the king."
The sentence hung in the air.
Heavy.
Definitive.
Hella didn’t react imdiately.
But her eyes... glead.
Pure interest.
"Manipulating... how?" she asked, her voice lower now, more focused.
Kael shrugged.
"I don’t know yet."
A pause.
"But I know enough to say that his behavior isn’t natural."
Hadrian slowly uncrossed his arms.
"Do you have proof?"
Kael looked at him.
And, for the first ti, his tone carried a slight trace of impatience.
"I have survivors."
Silence.
"Vampires who escaped executions," he continued. "Groups that were labeled ’impure’ without clear criteria."
He paused.
And then—
"A dead queen... without a body."
The impact was imdiate.
Hella didn’t move.
But her eyes narrowed.
"Without a body?" she repeated.
Kael nodded.
"No funeral."
Another pause.
"No confirmation."
Hadrian took a deep breath.
More slowly now.
Processing.
"This changes everything," he said finally.
And that wasn’t an exaggeration.
It completely changed the scenario.
Kael nodded slightly.
"Yes."
He then straightened up again.
And his expression... hardened.
"But that’s not the most important part."
Hella tilted her head.
"Continue."
Kael looked directly at the two of them.
No beating around the bush.
"There’s a princess being hunted."
Silence.
Dense.
Imdiate.
Hadrian narrowed his eyes.
"An heiress?"
Kael nodded.
"Adopted."
Hella said nothing.
But her gaze... said it all.
"Interesting," she murmured.
Kael continued.
"She’s been declared a traitor. Impure. The pri target."
He paused.
"But she isn’t."
Silence.
"She’s the key."
Hella rested her chin on her hand, watching Kael with a completely different interest now.
"You’re involved in this," she said.
It wasn’t a question.
Kael didn’t deny it.
"I’m protecting her."
Silence.
Heavy. Hadrian looked directly at him.
"You brought a vampire princess into my empire."
Kael didn’t move.
"Yes."
The air seed to cool.
But Kael didn’t back down.
He didn’t explain.
He didn’t try to soften his stance.
He rely held their gaze.
Because this wasn’t negotiation.
It was information.
And a choice.
Hella observed the two in silence for a mont.
And then... she smiled.
This ti, a little more clearly.
"Now that’s more like it," she said, almost satisfied. "The situation has beco interesting."
Hadrian, however, did not smile.
"This could an war."
Kael nodded.
"It could."
A pause.
"Or it could prevent one."
Silence.
Hella tilted her head slightly.
"You ca here to ask for help," she said.
Kael shook his head.
"No."
A pause.
"I ca to offer a solution."
And, for the first ti since entering the room...
He smiled.
But there was no lightness there.
Only... intention.
"If you want to hear it."
...
The sound echoing through the hall wasn’t just a scream.
It was... rupture.
The high walls, carved from polished black stone, reverberated with the voice that tore through the air like a blade, distorted by fury, by lack of control... and by sothing deeper, older, more wrong. The torches attached to the pillars flickered violently, as if the fla itself reacted to the presence that dominated the room.
The throne, elevated on wide steps of dark marble, seed small before the figure that occupied it.
He wasn’t sitting.
He never was.
The King of Vampires remained standing.
Always.
Imposing.
Unwavering.
And, at that mont...
Unstable.
His eyes shone with an intense red, too vivid to behold, pulsing like embers fueled by sothing invisible. The veins in his neck were slightly dilated, as if sothing inside him was pressing to break free, to rupture, to consu.
Dracula.
The na carried weight.
History.
Dominion.
But the man before them...
He no longer seed quite the sa.
"USELESS!"
The word exploded in the hall, causing several of those present to instinctively shrink back, even those who were older, stronger, more accustod to his presence. The impact wasn’t just auditory.
It was... physical.
Like an invisible pressure crushing the chest.
Forcing the body to bend.
To obey.
Below him, lined up in organized rows, were his subjects—nobles, commanders, executioners. Vampires who, anywhere else, would be considered unbeatable monsters.
There...
They trembled.
"CAN’T YOU FIND A SINGLE GIRL?!"
Another scream.
Loudder.
More distorted.
One of the nearest vampires stepped forward, bowing deeply, his body rigid, his head bowed in absolute submission.
"Your Majesty..." he began, his voice controlled but clearly tense, "we have already mobilized all units. The patrols are covering—"
"SHUT UP!"
The word landed like a blow.
Literally.
The vampire was thrown back as if struck by an invisible force, his body colliding against one of the side columns with a dry sound, cracking the stone on impact. He fell to the ground breathless, trying to compose himself, but not daring to look up again.
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Dracula breathed deeply.
But it wasn’t normal breathing.
It was uneven.
Dense.
As if each breath carried sothing that shouldn’t be there.
"You’ve had... days," he said, his voice now lower, but infinitely more dangerous. "Days... to find her."
His eyes scanned the hall slowly.
One by one.
As if he were choosing.
"She’s wounded."
Another step.
Slow.
"Weak."
Another.
"No allies."
And then—
He stopped.
His gaze hardened.
"So tell ..." his voice fell to an almost inaudible whisper, "why isn’t she dead yet?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers