"I love the cold."
"You only say that because you're not human."
"Not really," she replied with a placid sigh. "But the weather in Arthandica is beautiful. It's one of the many reasons I barely leave this place."
"If you say so. But maybe you should try asking them how they feel. Then you'd understand what I mean."
She scoffed. "How they feel is none of my concern. All I know is that I'm enjoying my shopping in this beautiful weather." Then, arching a brow at her companion, she added, "Besides, since when do you care about those weaklings—except when you need their blood for your sick spell-casting experiments?"
Her friend smirked. "Never said I care about them." A casual shrug. "Just that this weather makes my work more stressful."
The beautiful woman, with deep ocean-blue eyes and long, naturally wavy brunette hair, emphasized the word "stressful" with an exasperated sigh.
Spellcasting was no child's play. The more potent and ancient the spell, the greater the blood sacrifice required—human blood, to be specific. And with them freezing cold, their sluggish circulation made them less than ideal offerings.
A turn-off for a Salemic caster like herself.
"That wasn't heartless at all,"
Blair's signature smirk spread across her doll-like face, her tone dripping with sarcasm. It wasn't lost on her friends.
Blair was an elf, the second princess of Elfinwood—and an expert at getting under their skin.
The three of them had been inseparable since the fateful night they met at a ball thrown eight winters ago to honor the gods. From that moment on, they had been friends—and rivals—ever since.
Many young girls in Arthandica envied their bond. They were known far and wide as the SEA Beauties, a name whispered with admiration and jealousy alike.
Most believed that nothing could ever come between them.
"Hmm… at least she's finally acting like herself," Blair teased, eyes twinkling with mischief. "For a moment, I almost thought an angel had taken over."
Laughter erupted between them, loud and unrestrained.
Because if there was one thing they all knew, it was that their friend could be many things—but an angel?
Never.
Even if she looked every bit like one.
And she herself knew it better than anyone.
They moved through the marketplace in comfortable silence, stopping occasionally to exchange bits of gossip or admire a particularly stunning piece of clothing.
Shopping together like this was a rare treat. With each of them living in different capitals, opportunities to reunite were few and far between—and there was no way in hell they would pass up such a marvelous chance to shop and catch up on the latest happenings in their lives and kingdoms.
The last time they had met was a moon and a half ago, but to them, it felt like an entire winter had passed.
"What do you think of this dress?"
Juliana held up a midnight-black silk gown, the fabric flowing like liquid between her fingers.
"You think he would like it?"
The dress was an ankle-length masterpiece, with an open back and a dangerously low-cut neckline, designed to hug every curve, from her sculpted waist to her alluring hips, before cascading down to the floor.
And the sinfully high slit running from her left hip all the way to her ankle?
It would surely leave onlookers with plenty to admire.
"And by he, you mean…?" Elisabeta arched a brow, her expression skeptical. "Are you keeping secrets?"
Juliana bit her lip, suddenly looking very guilty.
"Oh, girls…" She groaned, dropping her head into her hand. "My bad. Thought I told you about him, but I guess it just… slipped my mind."
"Okayyyy, fine, we get it," Blair cut in, impatient as ever. "But can you skip the remorse speech and just spill?"
Juliana exhaled dramatically, then finally admitted, "Well… there's this guy… and—and he's interested in me."
"Okay?" Juliana shrugged. "He asked me out, and I said yes. So we're going out."
"Wizard?" Elisabeta asked absentmindedly, running her hands over a stunning silver-grey knee-length skater dress.
"A vampire."
Both girls snapped their heads toward her, exchanging a quick glance—but, for now, they chose to hold their tongues.
"Out out?" Blair pressed, her thin, rosy lips curling into a teenager-seeing-her-crush smile as the initial tension dissolved into excitement.
"Excuse me…" Elisabeta rolled her amber eyes with exaggerated sarcasm. "Is there another out I don't know about?"
"Hey, you can't blame me, okay?" Blair smirked. "We're talking about Julie here, after all."
She had a point.
Juliana would sooner spend hours studying, mastering, and casting ancient forbidden spells than waste a breath—or an ounce of energy—on men.
"I think he'll like it," Elisabeta finally said, nodding toward the dress. "You do know the best of the best is only found at Dica Queens, right?"
Typical Elisabeta—never missing a chance to boast about Arthandrakukan and its famous, extravagant fashion house, Dica Queens.
"Always the boastful bitch," Juliana teased.
Laughter rippled between them as they turned back to picking clothes and shoes—determined to elevate their already eye-catching wardrobes to even greater heights.
"When was the last time you heard from the prince?"
Elisabeta barely looked up as she examined a deep crimson gown.
"Mmm... like two winters ago? Why?"
"Nothing, really. Can't I ask about my prince?"
At that, Elisabeta's amber eyes flicked to her friend, sharp with suspicion.
She didn't bother to answer.
Blair, suddenly very interested in a pair of red wedge sandals, pretended not to notice the exchange.
But before Elisabeta could press further, Juliana's voice cut through the moment—shaky, urgent.
"Erm... girls... I-I think you need to see this."
Something in her tone made them turn.
Juliana's stunned gaze was locked onto one of the many glowing screens in the boutique, her eyes wide with a strange compulsion, as if she physically couldn't look away.
Only then did they realize—while they had been lost in their own world, the rest of Dica Queens had descended into chaos.
Gasps. Whispers. Disbelief.
On every screen in the boutique, the emperor's voice rang out, his regal presence commanding absolute attention:
"For the greater good of this Dominion and the will of the heavens, I hereby announce the union between the Dunkans and the Bathorys."
The words burned into Elisabeta's mind like a brand.
Then, as if to drive a blade deeper into her gut, the message flashed across the screen in bold, golden letters:
'This union is between the first princess of the Amber Kingdom and Crown Prince Alaric Emrick Dunkan.'
Elisabeta's grip tightened on the dress in her hands.
She felt like puking.
Why Keket?
That bastard had taken everything from her since childhood.
And now—now she wanted Alaric too?
No.
There was no way in hell she would let that happen.
If the emperor thought this union would go smoothly, he was gravely mistaken.
Even if it happened—
There would be no peace.
She vowed it.
---
The will of the heavens, her ass.
It was her, Elisabeta Bathory, who deserved to be Empress of great Arthandica—not some unwanted, illegitimate bastard.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
But beneath the anger lurked something worse.
Fear.
Because despite all odds, she had won the prince's favor.
At least… she thought she had.
But it had been two winters since she last saw him.
What if…
What if he no longer wanted her?
What if he went along with the emperor's plan—married that bastard sister of hers without a second thought?
The mini devil perched on her shoulder whispered poison into her ear, filling her head with all the what-ifs—so much so that she didn't even hear her friends calling her back to reality.
---
Blair's mind had flatlined.
Ambrosia? Really?
All this time, she had been watching the wrong sister.
She had never once considered the possibility that their future Empress would be Ambrosia Bathory.
Why would she?
It was an open secret that Ambrosia was the least favored noblewoman in the empire.
An illegitimate child.
An arrogant, headstrong outcast who—if the rumors were true—had never even been properly educated.
A ghost of the empire, absent from Arthandica since the day she came of age.
Blair exhaled slowly, suppressing the urge to laugh.
What a gift this was.
No need for rushed moves now.
The two sisters would tear each other apart long before she ever needed to lift a finger.
Because who could resist the temptation of the Empress's throne?
Certainly not an illegitimate child—one who had spent her entire life deprived of noble privileges.
A sinister smirk curled on Blair's lips as she mentally patted herself on the back.
She'd simply sit back, watch the carnage unfold, and step in when the time was right.
---
Juliana, meanwhile, was still reeling from her shock-induced mental blackout.
"But… it's not even time yet," she murmured.
The Sponsa Eligens—the ancient ritual where the Crown Prince's bride was chosen—was always held on the second moon of the third winter following his coming-of-age ceremony.
It was law.
By now, the high priestess should have made her sacred announcement, sending the noble young ladies into a frenzy of anticipation.
But the announcement never came.
Instead, out of nowhere, this bombshell had dropped—straight from the emperor's lips.
Something wasn't right.
Something was very, very wrong.
---
"Girls, let's get out of here."
Elisa's voice was tight, her grip even tighter as she yanked her friends toward the exit.
Blair and Juliana dug their heels in.
"I'm not done shopping." They said it in unison, irritation lacing their words as they freed themselves from her hold.
Elisa whirled around, pain flashing in her amber eyes.
"I can't shop after seeing this."
Her voice wavered—just a little—but enough for them to hear the storm brewing inside her.
"I need to go. Come find me when you're done."
Without waiting for a response, she stormed out of Dica Queens, the glass doors slamming shut behind her.
---
In a dimly lit chamber, far from the chaos of the empire, Ambrosia sat in her usual spot—serene, unbothered, untouched by the world's madness.
A raven perched on her left hand, feathers gleaming midnight black under the faint glow of enchanted lanterns.
In her right hand, she swirled a glass of dark, rich O negative blood, the liquid catching the dim light like molten rubies.
She brought it to her lips, took a slow sip, and let the taste bloom on her tongue.
A soft, pleased moan escaped her.
Perfection.
Her gaze flickered to the raven.
"What do you think about me finding myself a boyfriend?"
Musk—the feathered traitor—immediately turned her head away in a silent protest.
Ambrosia chuckled.
"Jealous, are we?" She lifted a single finger, brushing the raven's glossy feathers.
Musk gave a displeased ruffle of her wings.
Ambrosia smirked, her voice dipping into a whisper.
"Relax, Musk. I was only joking."
She leaned back, savoring another sip of her drink.
"You know I don't have time for drama."
She had no idea the kind of hellstorm coming her way.