Chapter 1
[Prince Cecil is going to sacrifice you to the Vampire Council on the night of the next full moon.]
Cecil Christian was washing my feet when a line of floating words appeared right in front of my face.
It'd been six years, and he'd waited on me like that every single day.
I thought I was the most precious human in the whole world.
But now, I was confused.
[Stop daydreaming. Once the female lead of this story shows up, you won't be worthy of washing Cecil's feet.]
[Next Tuesday night, when the moon is full, you'll be lying in that bed. They'll drain every drop of blood from your body and put you on the Council's dining table.]
My feet were still soaking in the water, but my body had already gone cold.
Was I the one those floating words were talking about?
"I'm done," I said.
I pulled my feet out of the basin and wrapped them in a blanket.
Cecil turned his head, his hand still on my foot.
"Is the water too cold, Princess? I'll go get another basin," he said.
"No, thanks," I said, pulling my feet under the blanket and lifting my chin. "Your hand is freezing. It feels awful. I won't sleep with you tonight. You can leave now."
His lashes fluttered, and his eyes went dim.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked.
"I told you to leave. Why'd you have to run your mouth so much?"
His lips parted like he'd wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn't.
He stood up, folded the blanket, and put it aside.
His silver hair fell across half his face, and his hand clenched tight at his side.
"Fine, get some rest," he said.
He turned and walked out. The sound of his footsteps grew softer and softer down the hallway.
The second the door clicked shut, I slid off the couch and sank to the floor, shaking so hard that I couldn't stop.
Some floating words showed up. [She finally realized it.]
[Too bad there are only six days to go.]
I'd had six days left to live.
Six years earlier, when I was fourteen, Cecil had brought me to this old castle.
Back then, I'd been skin and bones, curled up in the carriage, too scared to look up.
He'd lifted me out and run his fingers gently through my hair.
"Don't be scared. This is your home now," he'd said.
When I turned sixteen, I'd lost my temper at him for the first time. I'd been terrified.
But he'd seemed amused, as if my little outburst were something new and interesting to him.
He'd smiled and said, "Don't be such a princess."
But after that, he'd been calling me "Princess," and I'd acted like a princess.
I'd made him kneel down to put my shoes on. If the water had been too hot, I'd have made him dump it and get new water.
I'd dragged him out of his coffin in broad daylight to make me coffee, and he'd never been mad.
Those silver-gray eyes of his had only ever looked at me.
I'd thought I was the one calling the shots.
But now, those floating words were telling me I'd been nothing more than his sacrifice.
He was going to drain every drop of my blood and serve me up to the Vampire Council.
He'd only been nice to me because he'd been afraid my blood would turn sour if I got upset.
That night, he didn't come back.
I lay there alone under the covers, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
Then, I started sobbing.
Floating words showed up again.
[Is she waiting for him?]
[She kicked him out, and now, she's waiting? What a drama queen.]
[She shouldn't bother. He's not coming tonight. The Council's here, and he's busy entertaining the Elders.]
[The female lead's father is one of them. They're here to set up the engagement.]
The words "Vampire Council," "female lead's father," and "the engagement" made my heart sink.
*****
The next morning, Cecil brought me breakfast.
The tray had oatmeal and a few side dishes on it, exactly like every other morning.
He set the tray down on the table and turned to leave.
"Wait."
He stopped and looked back.
"Why aren't you feeding me today?" I stared at him. "You'd usually spoon-feed me yourself, wouldn't you?"
He dropped his gaze. "I thought you were still mad at me."
"What does that have to do with anything? If I tell you to feed me, you'll feed me."
He looked at me for a couple of seconds, then came over and sat down on the edge of the bed.
He scooped up some oatmeal, blew on it to cool it down, and held it to my lips.
I opened my mouth and took the spoon.
The cold brush of his fingers against my lips sent a little shiver through me. I actually liked how cold he was.
But I kept that to myself.
[What's up with her today? Usually, she gets annoyed at how slow he is and snatches the spoon to eat by herself.]
Honestly, I didn't know why, either.
I wanted to see if he was still the same as always: gentle, patient, and willing to do anything I asked.
But the floating words kept telling me he was going to sacrifice me.
After breakfast, I told him, "I want to go up to the tower."
He'd been cleaning up the dishes and stopped when he heard me.
"The tower... It's windy up there," he said.
"I don't care. I'm going stir-crazy in here. I want to see something besides those four walls."
His eyes lowered as he thought about it for a second.
"Then I'll go with you," he said.