The grand hall of the royal council thrummed with an almost palpable tension, cloaked in an atmosphere of shadow and mystery. The vaulted ceilings stretched into the darkness, their once-vivid frescoes now faded into muted tones by the passage of centuries. The black stone walls, engraved with ancient motifs depicting the victories and tragedies of the royal family, radiated a chilling austerity. Massive chandeliers suspended overhead cast flickering candlelight, creating dancing shadows across the solemn faces of the noble vampires present, their features shifting between light and darkness.

At the center of the room stood a long ebony table, finely carved, around which sat the principal members of the royal family. Their elegance was both mesmerizing and intimidating: garments richly adorned with silver and purple embroidery, glittering jewelry that caught the light in a near-supernatural way, and faces of icy, flawless beauty devoid of warmth. Their piercing, inscrutable gazes seemed to probe the very soul of anyone who dared meet them.

Silence reigned until a deep, authoritative voice broke it the voice of the family patriarch, King Adrian. His glowing red eyes swept across the assembly.

"The attack on the princess is an offense we cannot ignore. And yet, we must first address another matter: the inexplicable transformation of this servant."

His gaze rested on Elisabeth’s body, floating above the central table in a cocoon of supernatural light. Her motionless figure, draped in a simple linen gown, stood in stark contrast to the opulence surrounding her. Though her eyes were closed and her expression peaceful, her mind was a storm of activity. She could hear every word spoken, every intonation betraying the conflicting emotions of the participants.

"This is a mistake," murmured a feminine voice to the king's right. "Raising a mere human to the rank of vampire without consultation is an insult to our ancestral laws. What made her so special as to deserve such a privilege?"

A murmur of approval rippled through the assembly, but the princess slowly rose to her feet. Her black hair, cascading in silken waves, seemed to capture and reflect the light like a veil of obsidian. Her glacial blue eyes were filled with unshakable determination.

"She saved me," the princess replied, her voice clear and steady. "She placed herself between death and me, without hesitation. What would you do if such courage were offered to you?"

Silence fell once more, though it was different this time, heavy with tension. The nobles exchanged sidelong glances, caught between indignation and contemplation. Elisabeth, though still outwardly unconscious, felt every vibration of this conversation. A deep fear gripped her. She could sense the overwhelming power of the souls around her, ready to judge, perhaps condemn her. But amidst the turmoil, a gentle, soothing voice resonated in her mind.

"Do not fear; no harm will come to you. I am here with you... This is merely a precaution."

It was the princess. Her tone was firm yet warm, a balm to Elisabeth's growing anxiety.

"And the attack?" interjected another noble, shifting the focus. "How could a hunter breach our barriers? These mountains are supposed to be impenetrable."

"That is precisely what concerns me," Adrian responded, his brow furrowing. "Our protectors failed to sense the presence of silver until it was too late. This suggests an evolution in human weaponry."

A worried murmur spread through the room. The noble vampires exchanged dark looks, their concerns mingling with growing anger.

"We know the human capital has intensified its efforts to annihilate our kind," added another voice. "Rumors speak of hunter guilds developing new weapons capable of bypassing our protections."

The king nodded gravely. "We must send spies. They will infiltrate their ranks and report on their plans and weapons. We cannot remain passive in the face of a growing threat."

The discussions grew more animated, opinions clashing in a controlled cacophony. Meanwhile, Elisabeth continued to perceive every word, every thought projected in the room. The weight of judgment bore down on her, as if a fragile thread held her life in balance. Any movement on her part might seal her fate.

"Enough," Adrian declared, raising a hand. "We must decide. Those in favor of her living, raise your hand."

The nobles exchanged hesitant glances before casting their votes. A majority sided with life: 26 to 24. The king slowly nodded.

"So be it. She will live, but under strict supervision. As for the attack, the spies will depart tomorrow to infiltrate the capital."

The meeting concluded with these decisions. The nobles began leaving the hall, their footsteps echoing heavily on the stone floor. Elisabeth, still motionless, felt the tension gradually ease. The princess approached her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"All will be well," she murmured with a soothing smile. "You are safe now."

Yet deep down, Elisabeth knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Elisabeth opened her eyes, her breath quickened, as if she had just emerged from a deep and oppressive dream. The soft morning light filtered through the gaps in the shutters, casting golden, trembling streaks across the gray walls of her small room. Yet something had changed. The oppressive weight that usually pressed on her body had lifted, replaced by a strange, almost unreal lightness.

She inhaled deeply, and a new, subtle, intoxicating scent entered her mind: a delicate blend of aged leather, parchment, and wilted flowers. It was unlike anything she had known before. The room itself seemed transformed. The walls, aged and weathered, appeared more vibrant, as if every crack and imperfection were suddenly illuminated with a life of their own. She blinked several times, trying to discern the boundary between dream and reality.

Her gaze fell upon a graceful figure seated near the window. It was the princess.

The young woman was engrossed in a thick book, its red leather cover adorned with golden filigree that seemed to shimmer in the light. She wore a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, slightly tilted on her delicate nose, and her long black hair, like a curtain of silk, framed her perfectly sculpted face. Her eyes, a deep, almost otherworldly blue, studied the pages with an intensity that was captivating.

Elisabeth felt her heart tighten. A wave of conflicting emotions surged within her: admiration, envy, and above all, a deep-seated fear that she did not belong in this perfect tableau. Her mind buzzed; everything within her seemed to be in turmoil. She wanted to speak, but the words caught in her throat. And yet, she could not look away.

She didn't know how long she had stood there, frozen, staring at the princess, but it was the gentle, clear voice of the princess, suddenly resonating in her mind, that broke her trance.

"You are awake. How do you feel?"

Elisabeth started, looking around, but no words had been spoken aloud. Yet she had heard them, as though they had been whispered directly into her soul.

Panicked, she stammered aloud, her trembling voice breaking the silence:
"I... I think I'm fine... Where am I?"

The princess slowly raised her head, a discreet but kind smile gracing her lips. She delicately removed her glasses, placing them on the edge of the table. Her eyes seemed to pierce directly through Elisabeth, radiating a strange, comforting warmth.

"You don't need to speak aloud, Elisabeth. I can hear you."

The words resonated again in her mind, but this time there was a tenderness to them, as if to soothe her. Yet Elisabeth could not help but respond aloud, her cheeks burning:
"But... How is this possible? What’s happening to me?"

The princess arched a slight eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her gaze before a soft laugh escaped her lips.
"You’ll understand in time," she said aloud, her voice like a whisper carried on the wind. "But for now, rest. Your mind needs to adjust to its new perceptions."

Elisabeth slowly nodded, though a multitude of questions swirled in her mind. She wanted to understand what she had become, why she could feel every sound, every scent, every vibration with an almost painful intensity. But in the presence of the princess, these questions seemed insignificant.

She averted her gaze, trying to calm her heart, which was pounding wildly. Then, in a whisper, she murmured almost to herself:
“You were so absorbed in your reading… I… I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

The princess raised a delicate eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her gaze before a soft laugh escaped her lips.
“You never disturb me, Elisabeth. And if you’d like to know, this book is about our history. About what we are. You should read it someday.”

She extended the book to Elisabeth, but the latter, hesitant, only stared at it as if she were afraid to touch it.
“I… I’m not sure I’m ready to understand everything,” she murmured finally.

The princess nodded with understanding. “That’s perfectly fine. Take your time. But know this: you are not alone.”

Those words echoed in Elisabeth’s mind, and for the first time since her awakening, a wave of relief washed over her.