Aletia had been meticulously prepared for the throne since she was a girl. At one point in time, Novantian’s expected that she would be their monarch and they celebrated her. A girl whose mother was practically a peasant rising to the throne. It was like something out of a ballad told to children. And at that point in time, Aletia had wanted to achieve that goal. 

But that was then. And now, hearing Delilah so casually bring up ‘becoming Empress,’ felt like a cruel joke.

Delilah just grinned broadly, even as Aletia’s eyes narrowed into a glare. Aletia’s composure was the one that crumbled in the end and that boiled her blood more. 

She schooled her expression, her lips strained to an uncomfortable smirk. “Funny. But if you know anything about the Imperial family and I then you’d know that that is a dream that I’ve long since abandoned.”

“I know. Although most of what happened is left purely to speculation, I am well aware that you gave up the throne ten years ago. But this, this is different, your highness.” 

Delilah paced around the room, “You see our plan was quite convoluted in a way. The ultimate aim being war. However, that would mean having to sacrifice a lot of my own people. That was the fatal flaw. But as if Mordier himself was answering my prayer, you stumbled onto the docks.” 

Aletia shook her head, then scoffed. Her arms crossed her chest defensively. Each one of Delilah’s words were an attack to her already frayed self-control. “You think if I become Empress, I’d establish a relationship with Lorant. Foregoing the embargo and give you a piece of Novantia’s land without too much bloodshed, is that it?” 

Delilah clapped her hands together and practically squealed, “Yes! Yes. Ah, I knew you would get it. You can basically read my mind. Already Empress material.” 

“But that’s reliant on the fact I become Empress. Which, I do not want to do. I want nothing to do with Novantia and politics or that Godforsaken palace.” She spewed the words, another crack to her facade. 

Delilah’s excitement dulled and she exhaled sharply, “I understand but…before you make a decision, how about you take...a few days to properly ruminate, yes?” 

“My decision is already made—” 

“Please. Just think about it. Think about your wrath. Think about Novantia and its plethora of issues, think about if you had the most power in it, you could make everyone who ever wronged you…pay. Just think about it.” 

With that parting plea, Delilah left the room. 

***

Aletia paced around, escaping an invisible enemy. Her spiralling thoughts itched beneath her skin. Though if she were to voice it, perhaps more thoughts better kept inside would spew alongside it. 

Thud. 

A maid entered the room. Her head bowed and avoided her gaze. Her small voice just barely cut through Aletia’s spiral. “Your highness, Lady De Lorant encourages you to explore the castle. She reiterates that you are welcome and not at all a prisoner.” 

The maid kept her head bowed. A marionette waiting for someone to pull her strings. Aletia scoffed and went ahead and exited the room. The outside was a long coiled staircase that led to the main floor of the castle. The maid, finally moved, followed at least five paces behind. Well-mannered and not crossing the boundary between high nobility and the second class. 

The grand foyer of the castle loomed. A crystal chandelier hung above the widely open space. The slightest murmur could echo across the hall. Paintings of Lorant royalty adorned the walls. A scarlet haired woman sitting straight - Aletia instantly recognised as Delilah. The windows showed raven skies. It appeared different from a typical night sky, almost a dark grey with a violet umber as if shade curtained the Kingdom.

“Your highness, it's eternally nighttime in Lorant.” The maid interjected and for a moment Aletia wondered if she could read her thoughts. Just very intuitive. Her head lowered.

“Oh so is that stereotype about vampires avoiding sunlight is true?” 

“Partly. Sunlight does not kill vampires. It merely weakens us. A sorcerer cast a spell that drapes Lorant in a shadow.” 

Aletia’s perked up. Yet another thing that pricked her curiosity, “So why is it that sunlight weakens vampires?” 

“We believe it is because Nocturnal saints lie on the opposite end of the spectrum to the Saint’s of Sol. Light versus Dark. Light weakens dark. And darkness weakens light.” 

“And since Vampire’s are descendants of Mordier, their antithesis would be Sol which is the Sun.” Aletia continued. 

“Correct, your highness.” 

The more Aletia learnt of Lorant, the more enthralled she got. It irked her. A growing attachment to a place based solely on being keen to learn more was troublesome. Cecia would scold her if she knew - say something like, ‘Don’t let your thirst for knowledge outweigh sense–’

“Cecia.” Aletia heaved a weary sigh. She had forgotten about her trusted knight completely. She turned sharply to the maid, “My knight, Ser Cecia, where is she?” 

“She is in another room in the castle. Still unconscious from the spell.” 

“Still?” 

“Her constitution appears to be unused to sorcery. Unlike yourself, your highness.” 

“...She’s alright though, yes?” Her question came out soft. She deigned to admit concern but she couldn’t help the way the gentle tone bled into her ask. 

“Yes, your highness. She’s well. Just a state of sleep.” 

She exhaled softly, the tension in her shoulders disappeared. “Very well.” 

Just as Aletia’s turned back to the castle doors, someone opened it. A tall man entered with broad shoulders and a slight frown curving his lips. It emphasized the scar from his eyebrow down to his cupid’s bow. As soon as he saw Aletia - the man stilled and awkwardly bowed before turning to the maid, “I was told to have an audience with the Princess.” He muttered gruffly. 

The maid nodded, “Yes. The princess in question…”  She gestured with her chin to Aletia, “Her Highness Aletia Vira de Mara. Imperial Princess of Novantia.” 

If his broad shoulders could get any more stiff, they would have. His gaze flitted back to Aletia. He cleared his throat and bowed his head once again. “Good…evening…uh, I mean, A pleasure to meet you, your majesty.” 

“Highness.” The maid corrected with a hiss. 

“Your highness. I am Baron Izen Voltaire. Commander of the Lorant Navy.” 

Aletia studied Izen. She figured the stereotype of vampires being beautiful was true as well. The rugged yet handsome features were carved onto a statuesque form. Taller and imposing in a way that made Aletia stand straighter, “Why would I need an audience with a Commander of the Navy?”

“Her highness, Lady De Lorant wants him to be your guide around the Kingdom.” 

“A Navy commander as my guide? What’s next, the Head of Treasury teaching me horse riding?” 

The maid tensed and lowered her gaze, “Your highness, Lady De Lorant emphasized the importance of Commander Voltaire being the one to show you around Lorant.” 

That didn’t answer her question but Aletia was not about to dissect the issue at present. Her amethyst gaze flicked back up to the commander. “Very well. Escort me.” 

Her palm lifted up in muscle memory and he stared at her offered hand in bewilderment for an awkward beat. The maid tilted her head, urging him to act. With a start, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the back of her hand before standing upright.  The way he behaved, one would think it was his first time dealing with nobility. She shook that thought away and walked ahead of him, ready to explore a land she had only heard of in myth and infamy.