Chapter 3 - The Entrance

Draxaal von La’ Vere was scrutinizing the guests. He could not help but feel anxiety in his stomach as if something he would regret was about to happen.

Draxaal became a general because it was the only use he could give to his kingdom. After becoming a general of his kingdom’s army, Draxaal learned to trust his instincts. He once decided to ignore these instincts, which seemed absurd at first. Days later, he regretted doing so as he saw and then screamed over what was left of his soldiers. His men. His people. The ones who he had seen once smiling at the thought of the youngest prince becoming a general. The General Prince swore to the family and friends of those soldiers to never make such a mistake ever again. I will not let something I regret happen ever again! he vowed to himself and his people. The vow echoed in his head over and over again, as he discerned each guest and analyzed the threat of each guest’s presence.

His heart was beating faster and his blood was pumping faster, becoming hotter under his skin. Sweat was dripping from his hot forehead. He was tense. He was failing in finding any dangers. A knot was tying itself over and over again in his stomach. The feeling was disturbing. Something was about to happen. But what was it? He looked around everywhere for a sign. There were nobles from the innermost regions of the kingdom. No, he knew all of them were either good people who were too kind, or greedy people who were too cowardly. Was it the new allies from his victories in war? No, they were as cowardly as some of the indigenous nobles and were not armed with any weapons. He scanned the corners. There was no one… no one that he already knew could not pose a threat… but a feeble and old nobleman.

Draxaal had never seen the nobleman before. He seemed like the eldest person present. The nobleman was sitting by himself. No one was sitting next to him. Someone that old, who needed a walking stick to move, should have had a younger and more fit escort helping him. Draxaal looked around. There was no one even looking at him. There was no escort at all. He either came without an escort or the escort had abandoned him. No noble family would have done something so rude to an elder in front of the royal family. The nobles wanted to portray themselves as kind and pure-intentioned in front of the royal family, in hopes of gaining the royal family’s favor. Was that man even a nobleman? No matter how many times Draxaal looked at the man, his attire, or his features, and delved through his mind; Draxaal could not discern the man’s rank let alone his identity. He seemed in pain from just sitting down, considering he was shaking. But he was alone. Maybe he was just trying to attend the ceremony without shaming himself or his family. But he was alone!

Draxaal’s stomach was floating without moving. Something about the nobleman did not feel right. While everyone was focusing on the upcoming and grand entrance of Princess Darcine, Draxaal discreetly made his way to the corner where the nobleman was. He had to take his time to get there because the chamber was crowded with servants, even if they did make way for him. Unfortunately, if he ordered the servants to make way quickly, the nobleman would be aware of his presence. Draxaal would have to naturally make his way there calmly, no matter how unsettled he was, or else he might be noticed and then suspected by the old man. The General Prince kept thinking what about the nobleman made himself overestimate every move he made, as his body still cautiously closed in on the nobleman.

Then he heard a sound. The door from the other side was opening. Darcine was arriving! For some reason this made Draxaal hasten his pace by a fraction. Why did his father’s chamber have to be so annoyingly huge? he screamed internally. He was becoming enraged to the point that the servants moving past him were in danger from his vampiric bloodlust. The scents of flesh, sweat, and blood were coming more clear to him. Draxaal could feel heat gathering behind his eyes signaling his eyes becoming brighter with power and rage, then his tongue started flicking with a thirst for blood. He had to calm down or he was going to hurt someone.

At times like this, Draxaal von La’ Vere sometimes wished he was not a vampire. The feeling however never lasts long, this time included.

Then, from the open door and its darkness, La’ Vere’s Blood-Rose Jewel entered the chamber. The crowd of guests came closer to the aisle to see her. Draxaal even used less effort to move to see his older sister.

Out from the darkness and into the light, she elegantly strode. Princess Darcine von La’ Vere walked down the aisle made just for her. She wore a beautiful black gown, fit for a princess, with glittering red streaks from the hem to the bottom of the skirt. She wore dazzling red diamond earrings that suited her eyes. Her hair was let down simply, but in a way that further enhanced her regal presence. She looked like what she was. What she was born to be. A Queen of the La’ Vere Kingdom.

Her servants walked behind her with their heads inclined and bowing to the princess. The audience whispered in awe of the princess’s beauty as well as her stunning and confident demeanor. Draxaal felt pride for his older sister trickling through the anxiety of the unknown, if at all, threat. He was almost there. Just fifty more yards. Forty-five more yards. Forty more yards…

Darcine gracefully strode to the end of the aisle decorated with roses like her throne. Her eyes were happy like a girl’s yet sharp like a politician’s.

… Thirty-five more yards. Twenty-five more yards…

Their father, the king, looked at his daughter with pride as he brought out her birthright, their late mother’s ring, from his coat.

… Fifteen more yards. Ten more yards…

Darcine bowed to the king. Then raised her hand for the moment her family had waited ten years for. 

… Just five more cursed yards and Draxaal would-

As the king was about to place the ring gently to his daughter’s ring finger, a bright light shone and everyone was momentarily blinded. Everyone’s vision was hindered for a critical moment, given that the more eyes began to open, the more people noticed the shining and royal ruby ring had disappeared. When Draxaal opened his eyes, the nobleman’s robes were scattered on the chair he sat on, and their owner had, like the ring, disappeared. And the last thing that anyone in the chambers needed was for the General Prince to roar out in rage, scaring every and any living thing with a conscience within a ten kilometer radius of the palace, including the thief who was thanking the gods above she was able to save the last pieces of her heart even at the cost of her compassion, her pride, and her freedom.