The grand iron of the Valemont estate creaked open, revealing the familiar cobblestone path leading to Valeria’s childhood home. The car came to a halt, and before it had fully stopped, Valeria flung the door open and dashed out, racing for the front door. Her heart was pounding with a mix of sorrow and dread.
She burst through the grand double doors and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the startled maids and guards who bowed as she passed. At the top of the staircase stood a figure she instantly recognized.
“Miss Valeria!” Esther, her personal maid, rushed forward. “Oh, dear heavens, what happened?”
Valeria didn’t answer. She pushed past her and flung open the door to her room. The moment she was inside, she collapsed onto her bed, letting the sobs pour out of her chest.
Esther followed her in, shutting the door gently behind her. She hurried over to the bed and sat beside her, rubbing Valeria’s back with gentle, circular motions.
“Everything will be alright, sweet girl,” Esther whispered. “It will be alright.”
Valeria lifted her face from the pillow, her eyes red and swollen. “Will it, Esther? Will it really?”
The maid hesitated. “With time, perhaps.”
Valeria sniffled and sat up slowly. Her voice cracked as she asked, “Do you know what happened?”
Esther shook her head. “No, Miss. Only that your parents returned home from the academy with you, and you looked... devastated.”
“Then why are you comforting me if you don’t even know why I’m crying?”
“Because I care for you,” Esther replied with a soft smile. “That’s all the reason I need.”
Valeria looked at her, a deep ache pressing against her chest. “Can I tell you something? Something... I haven’t told anyone?”
“Always, Miss.”
Valeria took a deep breath, her fingers clenching the edge of the bedsheet. “Promise you won’t judge me.”
“On my life,” Esther said seriously.
“I... I fell in love at the Academia,” she confessed.
Esther’s eyes lit up instantly. “Oh! That’s wonderful! Who is he? A vampire noble? A scholar?”
Valeria looked away. “A werewolf.”
The room fell silent.
Esther’s smile faltered. “I beg your pardon?”
Valeria turned to face her. Her voice trembled. “He’s a werewolf. A prince. His name is Tristan.”
Esther’s hands dropped from Valeria’s shoulders. Her mouth opened, then closed.
“Say something,” Valeria whispered, the tears welling up again.
Esther blinked rapidly, then reached out and took Valeria’s hand. “I... I didn’t expect that. But, Miss, you must know how dangerous that kind of love can be.”
Valeria nodded miserably. “Everyone would say the same. That it’s dangerous, that it’s wrong. But it didn’t feel wrong when I was with him. I felt alive. Seen. Loved.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks again. “And now I’ll never see him again. He doesn’t even know I left. I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t explain. I just... vanished.”
Esther squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I truly am.”
A firm knock came at the door, making both women jump.
“Miss Valeria,” a guard’s voice called through the door. “Her Majesty requests your presence in her chambers.”
Valeria wiped her face quickly. “I can’t go looking like this.”
Esther stood immediately. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She guided Valeria to the vanity and began working quickly. A warm cloth to wipe her face. A new dress, something modest but regal. She brushed Valeria’s hair into a smooth bun, then applied the faintest touch of powder to hide the puffiness around her eyes and the red hue of her cheeks.
“You’ll be alright,” Esther said gently, adjusting a stray strand of hair. “You’re strong. You’re a Valemont.”
Valeria gave her a weak smile. “Thank you, Esther.”
She took one last breath before stepping into the hallway and walking the long path to her mother’s chambers. Every step felt like a march toward execution.
When she entered, both of her parents were already waiting. Her mother stood by the tall windows, arms crossed. Her father sat in a high-backed chair near the fireplace, reading something.
“You sent for me?” Valeria asked cautiously.
Her mother turned around, her expression cold. “Close the door.”
Valeria obeyed.
Her father set the parchment down and spoke first. “We’ve been discussing the matter of your indiscretion.”
Valeria tensed. “You mean Tristan.”
“Do not speak his name in this house!” her mother snapped.
Valeria recoiled slightly.
“We had to remove you from that den of beasts,” her father said, standing. “The shame you’ve brought upon this family...”
“Shame?” Valeria repeated, her voice rising. “You make it sound like I committed treason.”
“You might as well have!” her mother shouted. “Falling in love with a mutt? Letting him touch you? Were you even thinking of your bloodline? Your duty?”
Valeria’s lips trembled. “I didn’t choose to fall in love.”
“Enough,” her father interrupted. “We have made arrangements.”
She stiffened. “What arrangements?”
“You will marry a noble vampire,” her mother said flatly. “A man of proper lineage. The union will restore the Dracul name and erase any stain you have left upon it.”
Valeria’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”
“It is done,” her father said. “You will marry him within the month. No one will ever know of your disgrace.”
“His family is among the oldest of the bloodline,” her father explained. “He is powerful, wealthy, and willing to look past your lapse in judgment.”
Her mother turned to the door. “Bring him in.”
The door opened. A tall figure entered.
Valeria stared in disbelief, as Lucien strode into the room with his usual smugness. His dark hair was slicked back, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Lucien?” she whispered.