The carriages rolled beyond the borders of Aestherisin after a full day of unbroken travel, with citizens lining the streets to witness our departure in solemn silence.
As we passed through the outer barrier and into the dense forest, the path behind us vanished, swallowed by shifting trees that offered no trace of the road that once was—no illusion that a passage had ever existed.
We journeyed for three full days beneath the canopy. On the fourth, I sensed the essence thickening in the air once more.
Closing my eyes, I began to refine it—drawing it in, concentrating.
By the ti night faded and the sun crested the horizon, the carriage ca to a halt beside a waterfall. The door creaked open, pushed by Vicaris, who stepped aside wordlessly.
"We'll rest here for a mont, Your Highness," ca the voice of the old, white-haired man as he approached. His tone was respectful, yet steady.
I gave a slight nod in acknowledgnt.
"Co, Your Highness," he beckoned, unfazed, turning toward the waterfall.
I followed, Vicaris falling into step behind . We approached the cascade, and the old man pressed a hand to a moss-covered stone. He murmured ancient words under his breath. The center of the waterfall split, revealing a passage carved into the rock.
We entered together, the old man walking beside .
The path led us into a vast hall—a mountain hollowed from within. Stone benches lined the space, and at the far end stood a cabinet of red-glass decanters filled with what could only be blood, their layers thick and dark against the stone.
He guided to a secluded alcove and presented a chalice filled with the highest grade of blood.
As a nocturnal—and an Awakened one at that—I had no need to drink. But that didn't an I wasn't tempted. I took the glass. The fragrance alone sharpened my senses. I drank slowly, the rich liquid slipping across my tongue, silken and deep. It tasted like clarity. Like power.
"This is the special stock, Your Highness," George explained.
I said nothing, though curiosity flickered beneath my stillness. It was... intoxicating. Perhaps the finest I'd ever tasted.
"It's blood from the royal wolf," George said, his pale eyes glinting.
"Not just any wolf," he continued after a pause. "A werewolf of royal lineage."
My eyes narrowed slightly. "Weren't werewolves extinct?"
"That's what most believe," he said. "But history often leaves out the inconvenient truths."
I leaned back, reflecting on what I'd learned in my teachings.
Werewolves had always been a curiosity—less revered than vampires, certainly. They lacked the specialized powers wielded by the Five Grand Houses. Their gift was singular: shifting. In their wolf forms, they possessed brute strength capable of challenging a lower nocturnal, but nothing more.
Nocturnals had long dismissed them as nuisances—content to let them skirmish with ordinary vampires in forgotten forests and contested valleys. But when the nocturnals finally turned their full attention to the matter after so incidents, the werewolves vanished almost overnight.
Extinct, the world said.
But George's words hinted at a different truth.
"Endangered," he corrected softly. "Not extinct. A few survive… scattered, hiding, diminished. Yet still royal in blood."
I listened in silence as he spoke further.
Then, his tone shifted.
"We've paused here because a decision lies ahead, Your Highness," he said, finally addressing the true purpose of our stop.
"We're nearing the forest's edge. Two days more, and we'll be free of it. But now we must choose a path."
He watched carefully as I set the empty glass down.
"We can switch our appearance and thod of transport at an exchange point, then pass through the human world, boarding a ship to sail directly to the Detached Shore. A quicker route—saves us nearly a week."
"Or," he continued, "we circle around the human territory, moving solely through the wilds. A longer, more dangerous journey. Fatiguing."
I t his gaze—those white, unreadable eyes—and smiled. Coldly.
"You must take for a fool."
He blinked. "What do you—"
"The human territories are a deathtrap for vampires. Riddled with technology and laced with an otherworldly aura that gnaws at the mind, then there are the damned and corrupted that walk the city like humans, blending in. No one crosses without at least a month of ntal conditioning—and even then, they require constant oversight."
His face paled.
"And you want —the Crown Prince of one of the Five Grand Houses—to stroll through there unprepared? Without informing my House?"
He tried to compose himself. "I only ant to offer the choice—nothing more."
"You offered rare blood, flattered with talk of nocturnals, and assud I was just another arrogant young prince—unscarred by failure—eager for a thrill."
I leaned forward, my silver eyes piercing through his carefully composed facade.
"And if I died in that city?" My voice dropped, mocking. "'The prince was reckless. I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen.' Convenient, no?"
He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.
"Now tell , High Envoy George of the Trinity... who are you truly working for? Which House sent you?"
Silence.
"Or are you claiming this is the will of the Trinity?" My fangs glead under the dim light—noticeably longer now.
At last, he stood and bowed deeply.
"I must apologize, Your Highness. This was my own... foolish idea. A whim born of overconfidence. I would never implicate the Trinity or any House. We shall take the forest route."
I leaned back in my seat, voice relaxed.
"No. We'll pass through the human city."
He blinked. "What... what do you an?"
"I told you that for context. Not as a decision," I said, smiling once more.
"But you said it was suicidal—"
"I enjoy a bit of danger." My grin stretched wide, fangs gleaming, silver eyes glowing. "And the one who set this little ga in motion wouldn't be satisfied with a short, dull play."
I leaned in and whispered, "Right?"
His face fell. "We'll proceed as you command, Your Highness."
"Good. Now—bring a bottle of this." I gestured to the empty glass.
"Yes, Your Highness," he replied, a tremor in his voice. He understood. This was his price for presumption—for thinking a pawn.
Soon after, a glass bottle filled with the shimring red liquid was set before .
I uncorked it, inhaling its deep, rich aroma. Pouring a asure into my glass, I watched the blood swirl, catching the light like garnet fire.
I lifted it slowly. Fangs extending. It really was a delicacy.
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