Chapter 4

Valentine froze.

One of the elders immediately cut in. "That was in the past. We used to survive by hunting living creatures like savages."

"And now we're civilized?" I retorted. "Now we beg for a mouthful of blood, and that's supposed to be civilized?"

"Isolde!" the elder snapped.

Valentine stepped forward. "Isolde, get yourself to the prince's palace right now. Admit you were wrong, and beg him to forgive you."

I didn't move.

"Are you deaf?!" he snapped.

"Uncle Valentine." I stood up.

My legs were still a bit wobbly, but I forced myself to stand tall. "Do you know what Lucian put in my food?"

He froze for a moment after hearing my words. "What?"

"Ghostleaf. It's been in my food for three months," I replied.

His expression shifted, but only for a split second. The next moment, his face hardened again. "Even so, you brought this on yourself for not knowing your place."

I let out a laugh.

I looked at my father's brother, the man I had called "uncle" since I was a child, for hundreds of years. "Valentine."

"What?" he replied.

"What did you take from him?" I asked.

His face changed. "What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Was it gold coins? Or land?" I paused, then continued, "Did the elven king promise you the vampire throne once I'm locked away in the dungeon?"

Silence stretched for three seconds in the hall.

Valentine broke the silence with a sudden laugh. "Isolde, you're sick. Your bloodlust has made you lose your mind."

"Is that so?" I shot back.

"You don't get to choose anymore," he said, stepping closer. "The prince is on his way. He's got the antidote and a new deal. Sign it, you get to live. Refuse..." He paused, then continued, "I'll run the vampire clan myself."

There were footsteps outside the door.

Lucian walked in.

He was still wearing that golden robe, his face back to its usual gentle look. A maid followed behind him, holding a silver tray.

On the tray were two items: a crystal vial filled with a vivid red liquid and an already unfurled parchment scroll.

"Isolde." Lucian gave me a gentle smile. "I lost my temper yesterday."

I stayed silent.

He pushed the silver tray directly in front of me. "This is my blood. It's pure. It will purge all the toxins in your body."

"What's on the parchment?" I asked.

"A contract."

"What's in the contract?"

Lucian paused and didn't answer.

With her head bowed, the maid began to read from the parchment.

Her voice was low and fast, but I heard every word clearly. "From this day forward, Isolde, Queen of the vampires, will serve Prince Lucian of the elves as her master.

"The vampire clan becomes part of the elven kingdom, paying an annual tribute of three hundred vials of young maidens' blood. Whenever he wishes, the prince has the right to summon—"

Halfway through, Valentine suddenly coughed.

The maid stopped reading.

I looked at Lucian, and he looked back at me.

He was still wearing that gentle smile. "Sign it, Isolde. You live, your clan lives."

I didn't say a word.

I shot a look at Valentine. He looked down at his sleeve, avoiding my gaze.

I glanced at the six elders. None of them met my eyes.

I let out a laugh. "Valentine, you're the high elder of the vampires, my mother's kin, my family. You've watched me grow up, year after year, right from the very beginning."

Valentine didn't say a word.

"But today, you're standing on the other side," I added.

He finally looked up. "Isolde, only the wise know when to yield."

"Alright," I said.

"Alright?" Lucian narrowed his eyes.

"I'll sign it." My face was expressionless.

Lucian's smile grew deeper.

He offered me a quill.

I didn't take it. "I'll use my own."

I raised my hand.

My nails, vampire claws, were razor-sharp by nature.

I poised them over my own wrist.

Lucian's face shifted. "Isolde—"

The door was suddenly slammed open. Caelan rushed in.

He knocked the two guards at the entrance to the ground, his cloak falling away to reveal his back wrapped in layer upon layer of bandages already soaked with blood.

He rushed to me and stood between Lucian and me.

He didn't draw his sword. It had already been taken from him.

He tore open the front of his clothes, revealing a pale chest marked with old scars.

"Your Majesty!" Caelan called out.

His voice wasn't loud. But in the hall, his words echoed so clearly.