The wilderness of Torah stretched endlessly, golden sunlight washing the land in warmth and shadow. On the highest hill, Sedora stood still, her hazel eyes searching the sky as though it might hold the answer to the ache in her heart.
At her feet, crimson blossoms forced their way through tangled weeds and blue-streaked grass. Her hair, long and dark as obsidian, spilled freely down her back. She drew in a trembling breath.
Could she ever escape this life?
Today she turned eighteen, but she felt no different—still lonely, still restless, still carrying the weight of her mother's absence. A bittersweet smile curved her lips before it faltered. A single tear slid down her cheek.
Mother… I wish you were here.
A guttural growl rumbled through the wilderness—low and close.
"Krughhhh…"
The beasts of Torah were returning from their hunt. Sedora stiffened, wiping her face quickly. She couldn't risk being caught lingering here as prey. Swiftly, she mounted her horse, straightened her posture, and urged it toward the palace. She could not let her father, King Daren of Ora, see her looking weak—not on her birthday.
By the time she reached the gates, the grand towers of Ora glistened like fire-tipped spears under the sun. Maria, her maid and closest companion, rushed forward with relief etched across her face.
"Your Highness, where have you been?" Maria's hands trembled slightly as she helped Sedora down from the saddle.
Sedora laughed lightly, though her voice carried weariness. "Looking for an escape route."
Maria smirked knowingly. "I'm sure you didn't find one." She looped her arm through Sedora's, guiding her quickly toward the secret entrance hidden away from the eyes of the guards.
Inside her chambers, warm steam greeted her. The maids had already prepared a bath. Sedora slipped into the water, scrubbing away the dust of wilderness and the glimmer of her tears. When she emerged, the maids draped her in a gown that shimmered like moonlight—white silk, with a voluminous bouffant skirt. Stripes of delicate blue pearls traced the neckline, running all the way to her ankles.
They adorned her with earrings and a slender gold necklace. At its center rested a pendant of blue stone—her mother's keepsake. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. The pearls made her hazel eyes glow, though sadness lingered behind them.
"You look breathtaking, Your Highness," Maria said softly, her smile tender. "Surely, a prince will see both your beauty and kindness tonight."
Sedora scoffed, turning away. "I don't care for marriage. Every prince I've met is the same—arrogant, selfish, and full of empty words."
Maria pressed a warm cup into her hands. "Drink this. It will calm you."
The cinnamon tea carried a sweet, spiced fragrance. Sedora sipped, though unease coiled in her chest. She set the cup down, her hands tightening in her lap.
"I don't feel happy, Maria. Not sad either… just empty. The moment I step into the ballroom, they'll whisper, laugh, and push me toward Prince Taxi. I cannot—will not—marry him."
Maria sighed, feigning concern. "But Prince Taxi is handsome, and he will one day inherit the Garden Kingdom. You're not promised to him yet, so other suitors may come."
Sedora shook her head, frustration sharp in her eyes. She opened her mouth to answer, but a sudden stabbing pain cut through her chest. The cup slipped from her hand.
"M-Maria… I can't see… my chest…" Sedora gasped, collapsing to her knees.
Maria's mask of worry fell away. She straightened, her lips curving into a sinister smile.
"Oh, my sweet princess," she whispered, "I poisoned your tea—with deadly nightshade."
Sedora's wide eyes filled with confusion and betrayal. "W-what? Maria… why?"
Maria crouched beside her, stroking her hair as though she were a child. "Because you have everything, Sedora, while I have nothing. You were born a princess. I was born a servant. Prince Taxi only sees you, when I'm the one carrying his child. I told him about the baby, but he threw me out like dirt. And yet your father wants you to be his wife."
She laughed—a harsh, broken sound. "So I'll fix it. You won't marry him, Sedora. You won't marry anyone."
Tears streamed down Sedora's face. She reached out, clutching Maria's wrist weakly. "Please… I don't even want Prince Taxi. You're my best friend, Maria—please help me… call the healer. I don't want to die."
But Maria only tilted her head, eyes glinting. "No healer is coming. I've already arranged for your fate."
The door creaked open. Five men slipped into the chamber, their eyes cold and predatory.
Sedora's blood ran cold. "Help! Somebody help me!" Her scream tore through the room, but the distant music of the banquet drowned her voice. Her limbs went heavy, darkness creeping into her vision.
"Careful," one of the men muttered. "If she dies before reaching the vampire realm, the deal is wasted."
Maria tossed a heavy pouch of silver at his feet. "She has forty minutes left. There's an antidote in the bag. Use it when you're far from the kingdom. Deliver her alive to the vampire traders. And never contact me again."
The men seized Sedora's limp form, dragging her toward the secret passage. Maria watched them disappear with a smile of cruel triumph.
Then, she pulled a dagger from her gown and drove it into her own arm. Blood poured down her sleeve. She staggered deliberately, rehearsing her next act.
By the time she stumbled into the banquet hall, pale and trembling, the courtiers gasped in horror. Maids rushed to her side.
"They… they took her!" Maria cried, letting her voice crack as tears spilled down her cheeks. "They took Princess Sedora!"
With that, she collapsed into their arms, her performance flawless.