The Emperor's obsession

Evening draped its velvet shawl over the Empire of Nytheris, painting the sky in hues of sapphire and wine. The Palace of Thorns shimmered under the golden light of levitating crystal orbs that floated high above the central courtyard—each flickering with ancient enchantments. The once-imposing structure now gleamed with modern grandeur: floors polished until they mirrored the heavens, opulent fountains sculpted from moonstone, and gold-leafed drapery that shimmered like liquid sun. Every corner of the palace screamed wealth—an audacious display of the Emperor's unmatched fortune.

Inside the royal chambers, Serenya stood before a mirror, her delicate frame wrapped in layers of black silk that clung to her like the whisper of shadows. Her long hair, woven with slivers of silver ribbon, cascaded down her back. The scent of white lotus lingered in the air as Zelda tightened the last strings of the corset.

"Is it true the Emperor will be there tonight?" Serenya asked softly, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of anxiety.

Zelda, fussing over the final fold of the gown, nodded. "That's what the palace staff says, Your Highness. The procession from Thamur arrived this afternoon, and everyone believes the Emperor will make an appearance."

Serenya's eyes lit up with a soft, innocent smile. "Did you see Prince Kael? Was he with them?"

Zelda smiled, slipping jeweled bangles onto Serenya's wrists. "I didn't, Your Highness. But I'm sure he's here—and likely hoping to see you too."

Her words made Serenya blush, her innocent heart fluttering at the idea.

Elsewhere, in Elarynth's lavish chamber, a different kind of anticipation filled the air. The headstrong princess stood before her mirror, adorned in a provocative pink gown that shimmered with crystal embroidery. She wore no black veil—defying the traditions her father had sternly enforced.

Earlier that day, she'd wandered the palace on her own, catching glimpses of high-ranking vampires: tall, powerful, sinfully beautiful. They weren't the hideous beasts she'd been warned about—they were godlike. Dangerous. And she wanted one.

A knock sounded at the door before a servant entered with Emma in tow.

"What's your name?" Elarynth asked as she sauntered over, hips swaying.

The servant, clearly nervous, bowed low. "T-Tessa, Your Highness."

Elarynth's eyes gleamed. "Have you ever seen the Emperor?"

The poor girl paled. "Y-Yes, Your Highness."

"Is he as hideous as the tales say?" Elarynth's voice dripped with curiosity and amusement.

Tessa swallowed hard. The answer was complicated. The Emperor was breathtaking—but cruel. Wicked. Beautiful and deadly. "N-No, Your Highness," she finally managed.

"Thought so," Elarynth smirked, tossing a pouch of coins at her. "Go."

As the servant scurried out, Emma stepped forward. "Your Highness, I truly think it's best to follow—"

A crystal goblet shattered against the wall near Emma's head.

"You were saying?" Elarynth hissed, her tone laced with venom.

Emma flinched, swallowing her words. She had only wanted to protect her mistress from making a dangerous mistake.

"Good. Now go find me the most exquisite veil you can and style my hair like royalty. And make sure the servants of the imperial palace doesn't dare tell Serenya when the ceremony has start."

Back in the main palace, the grand celebration had begun. Musicians strummed otherworldly instruments, and dancers in translucent silks twirled like spirits. Courtiers, nobles, and royals from across the twenty-four kingdoms poured in, their silks and velvets brushing the marble floor like water.

At the main entrance, an announcer bellowed each arrival.

"The royal family of Vayrana has arrived!"

King Rajna stood tall beside Queen Ishara. His eyes immediately fell on Elarynth, now standing boldly in a pink gown with a pale gold veil—nothing like the mandated black.

"Why isn't your veil black?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"I couldn't find it, Father," Elarynth lied with a smile.

Queen Ishara frowned, prepared to send her back to her chamber, but time pressed forward and the ceremony was already unfolding.

"Where's Serenya?" King Rajna asked, his voice tense now.

Thirena and Nearya looked around in alarm. Their sister was nowhere to be seen.

"Aresh," the king snapped toward his son. "Go fetch your sister. Now."

The crown prince nodded and vanished into the corridors.

With no other choice, the Vayrana royal family proceeded into the hall, greeted by curious gazes and nods of recognition.

Back in Serenya's chambers, the young princess stood alone, the air thick with silence.

"Do you think it's started already?" she asked, casting a worried glance toward the door.

"I'll go check, Your Highness," Zelda said quickly, already hurrying out.

Serenya waited only a moment before her anxiety overtook her. She tied on the nearest veil—gold in color—and stepped into the corridor. Her soft slippers made no sound against the glossy floor as she wandered into the maze-like palace.

The hallways glittered with floating lights, casting ethereal glows over her skin. But the deeper she walked, the more her anxiety bloomed. No servants. No music. Just silence.

She turned a corner—and her veil slipped.

She gasped, quickly fumbling to tie it back, her cheeks burning. She felt so exposed.

But what she didn't know was that someone had seen her.

Zareth.

He had been dressed in tailored midnight robes, embroidered with fine platinum threads that shimmered when he moved. His hair was tousled like he'd raked a hand through it carelessly. He was halfway through telling Cassian he had no plans to attend when something caught his attention.

A girl.

Dressed in black. Wandering the palace. Alone.

Then her veil slipped.

Time stopped.

The world seemed to hush around him.

Her face was a vision—soft, untouched by the harshness of the world. Lips like blush-petals. Innocent eyes that had not yet learned to lie. A creature of light walking blindly through the den of shadows.

And then she covered it.

Zareth's tongue flicked across his fangs.

Cassian began to speak, but the Emperor cut him off. "Go greet the guests, Cassian. I have somewhere else to be."

Cassian hesitated, then bowed and turned away.

Zareth moved soundlessly, like a storm cloaked in shadow.

Serenya turned another hallway and collided with a wall of heat and power. Her breath hitched. The scent of leather, spice, and something darker filled her lungs.

A hand caught her arm before she could fall.

She looked up—and froze.

A man stood before her. Not just any man. The man.

Eyes like twin flames. Lips curled into a knowing smirk. A voice like thunder dipped in velvet.

"And who might you be, little dove?" Zareth purred.

Serenya's heart slammed against her ribs. "I-I'm... I was just—"

"Lost?" he finished for her, his tone mocking yet oddly amused.

She nodded, clutching her veil tighter.

His eyes trailed down the curve of her figure, and then back to her eyes. "You're not from around here," he said, though he already knew.

"I'm from Vayrana," she managed, voice barely above a whisper.

His grin widened. "That explains the veil. So well-behaved. So sweet."

He stepped closer, and she instinctively backed up—until her back hit the wall.

"Running off alone into a palace full of monsters... either you're braver than you look, or dumber," he drawled, eyes gleaming.

Her eyes widened at the insult, but something in his tone kept her frozen.

"I didn't mean to be disrespectful—"

"Oh, but you weren't," he interrupted. "In fact, you've just made this entire evening… interesting."

He reached out, adjusting the edge of her veil with a gentleness that contradicted his deadly aura.

"What's your name, dove?"

She hesitated.

"Your name," he repeated, voice darker now. "I don't ask twice."

"Serenya," she whispered.

He leaned in, mouth brushing close to her ear. "Serenya," he repeated, tasting it. "Pretty name. Suits you."

Then, as quickly as he came, he stepped back. The moment shattered.

"Go on now, little dove. Before your father comes searching."

And with a flash of his smile, he disappeared into the shadows—leaving her breathless and trembling.

Unaware that her fate had just been sealed.