Chapter 9: Dispute
2404words
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
"Enter," I called, expecting Clara with my morning blood goblet.
Instead, Adrian appeared, his tall frame filling the doorway. He wore formal attire—midnight blue coat with silver embroidery, the mark of his ducal status evident in every detail. His expression, usually composed, held an unusual tension.
"Good morning," he said, bowing slightly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Not at all," I replied, noting how he maintained a careful distance. Since our moment in the library during the thunderstorm—that almost-kiss that still haunted my dreams—Adrian had been scrupulously proper in his behavior. "Is something wrong?"
"We have an unexpected visitor," Adrian said, his tone carefully neutral. "Lord Darius of the Nightshade clan requests an audience."
The name hit me like a physical blow. Lord Darius—the patriarch who had overseen my years of humiliation in the clan, who had allowed others to mock and belittle me for my "defect."
"What does he want?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"He claims it's a matter of alliance between our houses," Adrian replied. "Though I suspect his true purpose involves his daughter."
"Lina?" The pieces clicked into place. "He wants to arrange a marriage between you and her."
Adrian's expression confirmed my suspicion. "Such negotiations have been ongoing for years, though I've never encouraged them. Lord Darius likely sees an opportunity to press his case in person."
A complicated emotion twisted in my chest—not quite jealousy, but something adjacent to it. The thought of Adrian with Lina, the girl who had tormented me throughout my childhood, created a visceral revulsion.
"You don't have to see him," Adrian added quickly. "I can send him away with diplomatic excuses."
I considered this option briefly before straightening my shoulders. "No. I'll face him. It's time Lord Darius learned exactly who he cast aside."
Adrian studied me for a moment, pride flickering in his crimson eyes. "As you wish. I'll have Clara bring appropriate attire. Lord Darius awaits in the formal reception hall."
An hour later, I descended the grand staircase in a gown of deep crimson silk—the color of royal blood, a deliberate choice that Adrian had approved with a knowing smile. My hair had been arranged in an elegant style that emphasized the regal line of my neck, and at my throat gleamed a ruby pendant from Adrian's personal collection.
Adrian waited at the bottom of the stairs, his breath catching visibly as I approached. "You look..." he began, then seemed to reconsider his words. "Lord Darius will certainly get the message."
"That's the intention," I replied, accepting his offered arm.
We proceeded to the formal reception hall, where Lord Darius waited. He stood with his back to us, examining a tapestry depicting an ancient battle. Two guards flanked him, their posture alert despite the supposedly peaceful nature of this visit.
"Lord Darius," Adrian announced as we entered. "Thank you for your patience."
The patriarch turned, his cold eyes widening slightly at the sight of me on Adrian's arm. He recovered quickly, executing a formal bow. "Duke Blackthorn. I appreciate you granting this audience on such short notice."
His gaze shifted to me, confusion evident in his expression. He clearly recognized me but seemed unable to reconcile my current appearance with his memory of the "defective" clan member he had so readily dismissed.
"And your companion is...?" he inquired, his tone suggesting I was some minor noble not worth introducing properly.
Adrian's smile held a predatory edge. "Surely you recognize one of your former clan members, Lord Darius? Though I suppose Ella has changed considerably since her days under your... protection."
Lord Darius's face paled, then flushed with anger. "Ella? The defective girl? What game is this, Blackthorn? Why dress up a clan disgrace in royal colors?"
The insult struck a familiar chord—how many times had I been called "defective" or "disgrace" during my years with the Nightshade clan? But now, instead of shame, I felt only a cold fury.
"I assure you, Lord Darius," I said, my voice steady and refined, "this is no game. Though I understand your confusion. You never bothered to look beyond my supposed defect to see what truly flowed in my veins."
"What nonsense is this?" Lord Darius demanded, turning to Adrian. "Duke Blackthorn, I came here to discuss a potential alliance between our houses, not to bandy words with a blood-deficient nobody."
Adrian's expression hardened. "Mind your tongue when addressing her, Darius. You stand in the presence of royalty."
"Royalty?" Lord Darius scoffed. "Has she bewitched you with some trick? The girl couldn't even feed properly—a basic vampire function beyond her capabilities."
"That 'defect' was actually a protection mechanism," I explained calmly. "Royal blood rejects common feeding until the heir is ready to claim their birthright."
To demonstrate, I extended my hand. A drop of blood emerged from my fingertip, hovering in the air before expanding into a complex pattern—the royal crest that matched my birthmark. The blood construct glowed with power no ordinary vampire could command.
Lord Darius took an involuntary step backward, his guards tensing at the display of blood magic. "Impossible," he whispered. "The royal line was extinguished centuries ago."
"Not extinguished," Adrian corrected. "Hidden. Protected. Waiting for the right moment to reemerge."
Understanding dawned in Lord Darius's eyes, followed quickly by calculation. "If what you say is true, then Ella is—"
"The last heir of the Crimson Dynasty," Adrian confirmed. "Rightful queen of all vampires."
Lord Darius's demeanor transformed instantly. He dropped to one knee, head bowed in a show of respect so false it nearly made me laugh. "Your Highness," he said, voice dripping with sudden deference. "Had I known your true identity—"
"You would have what?" I interrupted. "Treated me with basic dignity? Not allowed your daughter and others to torment me for decades? Not cast me out when I became inconvenient?"
Lord Darius flinched at my direct accusations. "There were... circumstances you don't understand. The clan had responsibilities, traditions—"
"Spare me your excuses," I said coldly. "You failed in the most basic duty of clan leadership—protecting those under your care."
One of the guards shifted uncomfortably, his hand moving toward his weapon. Before he could act, I flicked my wrist. Blood erupted from my palm, forming crimson chains that wrapped around both guards, immobilizing them instantly.
Lord Darius gasped, genuine fear replacing his calculated respect. "What are you doing?"
"Demonstrating a fraction of what I'm capable of," I replied. "The 'defective' girl you dismissed now holds your life in her hands. How does it feel to be powerless, Lord Darius? To be at the mercy of someone you considered beneath you?"
Adrian remained silent beside me, his approval flowing through his subtle smile. This was my moment of reckoning, my chance to face the man who had allowed my suffering for so many years.
Lord Darius fell to his knees, trembling visibly. "Mercy, Your Highness. I beg your forgiveness. Had I known—"
"That's just it," I cut him off. "You shouldn't have needed to know I was royal to treat me with basic decency. Your cruelty wasn't a mistake—it was a choice, repeated daily for decades."
I approached him slowly, the blood chains around his guards tightening with each step I took. When I stood directly before him, I allowed a drop of my blood to hover before his eyes—a reminder of the power he had failed to recognize.
"I could end you with a thought," I said softly. "Erase House Nightshade from vampire history with a flick of my wrist. Would that be justice for years of torment?"
Lord Darius's face had gone ashen. "Please," he whispered. "My house has served vampire society for centuries. We have value, connections, resources—"
"All of which you would offer me now," I finished for him. "Now that you know who I am. Now that you fear me."
I let the silence stretch, watching him squirm under my gaze. Then, deliberately, I reabsorbed the blood drop and released his guards from their chains.
"I am not you, Lord Darius," I said finally. "I don't destroy what I consider beneath me. I don't abuse power simply because I possess it."
Relief flooded his features, quickly replaced by calculation. "Then what do you want? What price for my life and freedom?"
"The truth," I demanded. "Everything you know about my origins. Who brought me to your clan? What were their exact instructions? What did they tell you about my bloodline?"
Lord Darius glanced at his freed guards, then back to me. "It was a woman," he began reluctantly. "Ancient, powerful. She brought you wrapped in a crimson blanket embroidered with a crescent moon. Said you were the last of a noble line that needed protection from those who would destroy it. Paid handsomely for our silence and discretion."
"A name," Adrian pressed, speaking for the first time since my confrontation began. "Did she give a name?"
Lord Darius hesitated. "She called herself Lady Morana. Said if the time came when your blood awakened, we should seek her in the Shadow Peaks."
Adrian's expression shifted, recognition flashing in his eyes. "Morana," he repeated softly. "I thought she perished in the coup."
"You know her?" I asked.
"She was the royal blood mistress," Adrian explained. "Responsible for training young royals in blood manipulation. If she lives..." He turned back to Lord Darius. "This information has value. What do you want in exchange?"
Lord Darius straightened, regaining some of his composure. "Safe passage from your territory. And your word that you won't reveal the Nightshade clan's involvement in hiding the girl."
"Her name is Lady Ella," Adrian corrected coldly. "And you have my word—conditional on your silence regarding what you've witnessed here today."
"Agreed," Lord Darius said quickly. "I saw nothing, know nothing."
"One more thing," I added. "The members of the Nightshade clan who showed me kindness during my years there—they are to be protected, whatever happens next."
Lord Darius nodded stiffly. "As you wish."
"Then we're done here," Adrian declared. "My guards will escort you to the border."
As Lord Darius and his men were led away, I felt a curious emptiness replace my earlier fury. The confrontation I had imagined countless times during my years of humiliation had finally occurred, yet victory tasted different than I had expected—less sweet, more complex.
Adrian seemed to sense my mood. "Come," he said gently. "The gardens are peaceful this time of day."
I followed him through the castle to a secluded courtyard garden where roses bloomed in impossible profusion despite the season—another effect of blood magic nurturing the plants. We sat on a stone bench beside a small fountain, the gentle splash of water soothing my turbulent emotions.
"You handled that perfectly," Adrian said after a moment of comfortable silence. "Strength tempered with mercy—the mark of a true ruler."
"I wanted to hurt him," I admitted. "To make him feel a fraction of the pain I endured under his leadership."
"But you didn't," Adrian observed. "That restraint is what separates power from tyranny."
I glanced at him, struck by the pride in his expression. "You've been preparing for this moment for centuries, haven't you? Searching for the heir, planning the restoration."
"Yes," Adrian acknowledged. "Though I never expected..." He hesitated, his gaze dropping to where our hands rested inches apart on the bench between us.
"Expected what?" I prompted.
Adrian's fingers moved tentatively toward mine. "To find not just the heir I sought, but someone who would awaken feelings I thought long dead."
My breath caught as his fingertips brushed mine, the simple contact sending warmth cascading through my body. Slowly, hesitantly, I turned my hand palm up, an invitation he accepted by intertwining our fingers.
"I'm still afraid," I whispered, the admission difficult despite our growing closeness. "Of trusting, of believing this is real. Luke made me feel special too, before he betrayed me."
Adrian's free hand rose to cup my cheek, his touch gentle as a whisper. "I am not Luke," he said softly. "And what I feel for you has nothing to do with your blood or your heritage. It began before I knew you were the heir—when I found a brave, defiant woman facing down werewolves despite her injuries."
I leaned into his touch, allowing myself to believe, if only for this moment, that something beautiful could emerge from my lifetime of pain. Our eyes met, and the world seemed to narrow to just us—the garden, the castle, my royal heritage all fading to background noise.
Adrian leaned forward slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away. I didn't. His lips met mine in a kiss so gentle it brought tears to my eyes—not passion but tenderness, not possession but promise.
When we separated, Adrian rested his forehead against mine. "Your bloodline powers are awakening rapidly," he murmured. "Faster than I anticipated. We should seek Morana in the Shadow Peaks. If anyone can guide you through the full awakening, it would be the royal blood mistress."
Reality intruded on our moment of connection, reminding me that I was not just Ella, a woman discovering love, but the last heir of the Crimson Dynasty, with responsibilities that extended far beyond my personal happiness.
"How soon can we leave?" I asked, reluctantly pulling back from his embrace.
"Tomorrow, if you wish," Adrian replied. "The journey is dangerous—the Shadow Peaks are treacherous even for vampires of our power. But the knowledge Morana possesses could be crucial to your full awakening."
I nodded, decision made. "Then we leave tomorrow. Together."
Adrian smiled, squeezing my hand gently. "Together," he agreed. "Always."
As we sat in the peaceful garden, hands intertwined, I felt a curious sensation—like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their proper places. The path ahead remained uncertain, filled with dangers both known and unknown. But for perhaps the first time in my life, I didn't face that uncertainty alone.
The former clan disgrace had found her heritage, her power, and perhaps most precious of all, someone who saw her true worth long before her royal blood awakened.
