Chapter 3

The vampires certainly lived up to their reputation as ancient nobles. Even an engagement was an opulent, extravagant affair.

All kinds of mysterious supernatural beings descended upon the castle, showering the couple with rare treasures and lavish gifts. They went to great lengths to demonstrate their respect.

Ella, radiant in a stunning wedding gown, her cheeks flushed with barely contained excitement, took Alex's hand and stepped into the spotlight as the crowd buzzed with anticipation.

She had finally secured what she had always wanted, and her triumph was written across her face.

When her gaze found me in the crowd, she tilted her head, giving me a smug, taunting look, and mouthed a word.

"Loser."

Yeah, I was the loser.

But she was about to walk straight into hell. We would soon see who was truly pathetic.

Her smile had barely begun to fade when Alex pressed a goblet of wine into her hand.

"Drink this," he said, "and our engagement will be officially sealed before the elders."

Ella took the glass, ready to down it in one gulp, when a sharp metallic stench hit her nose, making her freeze.

Her face drained of color as she thrust the goblet back onto the tray. "There's Silverdust in this wine!" she shrieked.

Silverdust was the bane of a witch. Even the most powerful witch, with a thousand years of training, could not tolerate a single drop. One sip would not kill you, but your magic would vanish for months, leaving you bedridden and wishing for death.

In my previous life, I had endured the same ordeal, but it had never even crossed my mind to refuse.

I had known then that my life meant nothing compared to vampire honor. If I embarrassed Alex before the guests, I would be doomed.

I had braced myself and drunk it, my head swimming throughout the ceremony.

He had never cared about my feelings anyway. To him, I was merely a vessel for producing an heir. Who cared about a vessel's feelings?

But Ella clearly had no idea what was going on. She pouted and snuggled up to Alex, whining and clinging to him. "I don't want to drink this."

She failed to notice the shadow that passed over Alex's face. With so many guests watching, he forced himself to remain calm and attempted to soothe her.

"Ella," he said, his voice taut with restraint, "this is an ancient vampire tradition. Do not make a scene."

Normally, when the prince spoke in such a tone, Ella should have known better than to push further and simply complied.

But she seemed utterly oblivious to the danger, stubbornly refusing to yield.

"I hate this stupid tradition!" she protested. "We witches can't stand Silverdust, and I never want to see it again."

Her words set the elders on edge, their expressions darkening.

To them, willingly drinking what could cripple you was the ultimate gesture of loyalty and submission. Ella's public tantrum was a direct insult to their most cherished traditions.

Sure enough, whispers began to ripple through the guests. Some murmured that the bride had no respect for tradition; others went so far as to question Alex's judgment in choosing her.

The whispers reached Alex, and he lost what little patience he had left. His voice turned cold and sharp. "I'm telling you for the last time. Drink it."

Ella was stunned. She never thought he'd treat her like this. She grabbed the glass and downed it in one gulp.

But it was too late. The mood was already ruined.

When the ceremony ended, Alex stormed off, not even bothering to look at her.

Ella stood there, bewildered and lost. Just yesterday, they had been so close. How could everything unravel over a single glass of wine?

I let out a soft scoff at her naivete.

Nothing mattered more to the vampires than their pride. She was merely a decorative bride, meant to enhance their image, yet she actually believed she could dictate terms to the prince.

This was just the beginning. Her "good days" had only just begun.