The soiree had slipped into the deeper parts of the evening, where shadows lengthened and wine flowed like temptation. The ballroom glowed with amber light, reflections rippling against the sea just beyond the docked ship. The lights were now more enhanced. A band played near the eastern balcony, the violins weeping a rhythm of aristocracy and elegance.
In a quieter corner draped in velvet, Lady Alissa Thornvale and Lady Alicent of Dunbrae sipped dark wine and narrowed their eyes across the room.
"And who is she?" Lady Alicent asked with a sneer, gesturing toward Elowen. "Never seen her before. Not in any soiree or party, Alicent."
Lady Alissa tilted her glass, lips curled in disdain. "She doesn't seem vampire... but she's too poised, too bold to be just human."
"A single lady charming Lord Blair and friendly with Seraphine Ravenshade?" Lady Alicent remarked. "What a daring damsel?"
Alissa's eyes glittered. "I'll go over for a little... chat."
A few seats away, Elowen shifted uncomfortably after sitting down. She wasn't shaking but she felt so disturbed.
She wasn't sure what it was. The music? The chatter? The undercurrent of something darker?
She couldn't tell. But something in the room made her skin crawl. Her stomach churned.
Beside her, Seraphine reclined lazily on the tufted sofa, watching the crowd like a queen amused by her court.
"So, stay out of trouble, darling." Seraphine murmured with a grin, leaning closer. "I'll fetch you a more human-appropriate wine so you don't faint on me."
Elowen was about to respond when Seraphine stilled—her gaze flicking across the room.
Two heiresses were approaching.
"Oh," Seraphine murmured with a smile. "Here comes trouble wrapped in satin."
"Hi, Seraphine," the two said in chorus, their voices syrupy sweet.
"Evening, ladies," Seraphine replied coolly, her eyes already dancing.
Lady Alissa wore a gown of midnight blue, glittering like obsidian. Lady Alicent, equally regal in silver, kept her gaze sharp and calculating.
"And how fares the Lord tonight?" Alissa asked, her voice innocent, though her eyes swept from Elowen's hair to her shoes as if pricing her worth.
"Quite well," Seraphine replied. "Elowen, meet Lady Alissa Thornvale and Lady Alicent of Dunbrae."
Elowen stood politely, offering a graceful curtsy. "Evening, Lady Alissa. Evening, Lady Alicent."
"Evening, Miss Grantham," Lady Alicent said curtly. Elowen did her best to return the smile.
Alissa's smile thinned. "I wasn't aware the Lord required a personal assistant."
Seraphine's smirk deepened. "Were you looking to apply for the position, Alissa?"
"Not quite, Lady Seraphine."
Elowen said nothing, but she felt the weight of the scrutiny. Her every stitch, every hairpin was being dissected by eyes sharper than daggers.
The music reached its climax and faded. The quartet lowered their bows.
Servants swiftly moved into the center of the room, clearing the floor and replacing tables with a grand centerpiece—a dark velvet-covered platform.
The chatter grew quiet.
The vampires began to smile—teeth a little too white, eyes a little too bright.
"We'll take our leave, ladies," Lady Alissa said. But before she turned, she glanced at Elowen once more.
"The most thrilling part of the soiree has begun," she said silkily. "Do enjoy."
They vanished into the shifting crowd.
Seraphine leaned closer. "I'll go fetch that wine now," she whispered. "Brace yourself."
Elowen sat alone, pulse quickening. She didn't know why—but her chest felt tight. Uneasy.
Oh heavens!
Then she saw it.
A mermaid.
A merfolk, a teenage boy.
Dragged into the center, restrained. He looked no older than fifteen. His skin shimmered faintly—blue undertones beneath the pale—and his tail had been severed, replaced by crude bindings. His face was bruised, and his screams were muffled by an enchanted cloth.
Elowen froze.
All around her, vampires straightened like dancers at a performance, fangs slowly emerging in anticipation.
Then Lord Thornvale stepped forward with practiced grace.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen," he said, voice carrying easily.
"We began our feast with rhythms and wine to celebrate but we will close this graceful occasion with a display most dear to our kind. To open tonight's main diner, I invite Lord Ravenshade and myself to perform the honors—directly."
A few guests chuckled softly.
Elowen's eyes searched frantically and landed on Julian.
He stepped forward without hesitation—black coat pristine, his face carved from ice.
He strode in his usual demeanor and composure, commanding grace and respect.
On one side of the boy stood Lord Thornvale. On the other, Seraphine.
Julian approached and stood still. For a moment, nothing moved.
Then: the host and Seraphine leaned in, fangs sinking into the boy's wrists.
Julian's head dipped, slow and regal, and he drank from the boy's neck.
Elowen couldn't breathe.
She watched.
She had to watch.
She remembered Seraphine's words: Don't despise the blood. Don't flinch.
But her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Her vision blurred slightly.
So much blood...
So many smiling vampires...
She wanted to take her eyes off the scene but then, Seraphine's words rang clearly in her ears.
"You could be punished!"
Her breath caught as Julian raised his eyes.
They met hers.
And though his mouth was stained crimson, his expression was unreadable.
As if he was testing her.
Endure.
"Lady Grantham," came a voice beside her.
She turned, startled.
Lady Alissa, now seated a breath away, sipped her wine slowly.
"How do you like the sight?" she asked, as if speaking about a painting.
Elowen struggled for words. "I… It's…" Although, she was beyond glad that she could change her view peacefully but it wasn't like she liked the view in front of her- Lady Alissa
"Is that a tear in your eyes, Lady Gran—"
"A word, Grantham."
Julian.
She didn't even hear him coming.
He stood behind her like a shadow. Lady Alissa stiffened briefly, then rose and walked ahead, her smile vanishing like smoke.
Elowen stood.
Her knees shook. She found it hard to move, good a thing, she didn't have a fragile balance.
But she followed him into the night air, breath shallow and heart unsteady.