A Playmate for the Crown Prince
The black car rolled past iron gates etched with the ancient sigils of dragons, winding through the rose-stone courtyard of the imperial palace. Inside, elawen-year-old Selene Viremont sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, gaze fixed out the window.
She wasn't nervous. Not exactly.
Her father had explained everything last night in his study:
"You are to befriend the Crown Prince, Selene. The Emperor himself requested it. You are the heir to House Viremont—you will stand beside him in the future."
Selene had only nodded, as she always did.
Obedient. Quiet. Composed.
She was the heir to the Viremont Dukedom, the future Duchess, born to a legacy older than most of the world remembered. But she had no friends—not among the noble houses, and certainly not among the humans.
Vampires were rare now. Revered. Feared.
And even though her father was the most powerful man in the country after the emperor himself, most noble families kept their distance. Whispers trailed her like shadows. "She's the vampire girl." "Don't let your child near her." "What if she drinks blood?"
Selene didn't care.
She listened to her father, followed her mother's teachings, and never caused trouble. They loved her dearly and reminded her constantly:
"You are not like the others. You are born to lead. One day, this house will be yours."
She intended to be worthy of it.
Inside the palace, gold-veined marble stretched beneath her polished shoes as she was escorted through endless halls. Guards nodded as she passed. The tension in the air was subtle, but it clung to the walls like perfume. Everyone in the palace had heard of Crown Prince Kaelith Dravaryn.
And so had she.
He was younger than her by a few months, but stories surrounded him like fire.
Strong. Brilliant. Disciplined.
And… cruel.
No matter how many children were introduced to him by nobles hoping to win favor, the end was always the same. He'd make them cry. Sometimes with words, sometimes with games that didn't feel like games. One child had gone home with a broken wrist.
And yet, the Emperor tolerated it. Encouraged it, even.
They said it was the dragon blood in him—too ancient, too wild to be tamed. Too powerful for anyone to control.
Selene stepped into the throne antechamber and saw him at last.
Selene Viremont stepped into the antechamber of the royal palace, where sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows and spilled across the polished obsidian floor. Behind her, the guards closed the grand doors with a soft thud.
She stood still, back straight, hands at her sides. Her pale skin, silver-ink eyes, and jet-black hair marked her instantly—not just as noble, but unmistakably Viremont. Unmistakably vampire.
He was already there.
Seated on a velvet armchair near the hearth, Kaelith Dravaryn, Crown Prince of the Dragon Throne, looked up from a leather-bound book. He didn't rise. He didn't greet her.
He simply stared.
Selene met his gaze without blinking.
He was as striking as the whispers said—golden hair falling over his forehead, skin too perfect for a human boy, and eyes like molten amber. But it was the way he looked at her that gave her pause.
Not with curiosity.
Not with hostility.
But with… calculation.
"So," he said finally, his voice smooth but distant, "you're the one my father sent."
"Your Majesty," Selene replied calmly, curtsying. "My name is Selene Viremont. I was told we would be spending time together."
Kaelith tilted his head, expression unreadable. "You're smaller than I expected."
"I'm eleven," she replied evenly. "You're twelve."
His mouth twitched—just barely. Amusement? Or annoyance?
"You talk differently than the others," he said.
"I'm not like the others."
That made him pause.
He closed the book on his lap and stood, walking toward her in slow, measured steps. Selene didn't flinch, though she noticed how the temperature in the room subtly shifted—warmer, like the air itself recognized him.
A dragon's presence.
He circled her once, inspecting her the way one might a sword. Then he stopped in front of her and asked, "Are you going to cry if I tell you I don't want you here?"
"No," Selene replied softly. "But if you try to make me cry, I might make you cry."
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then, Kaelith smiled—small and sharp.
"…Interesting."
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Part 2 – The Garden and the Girl Behind the Pillar
Two days passed.
Selene came to the palace each morning, as instructed. She followed Kaelith to his study sessions, joined him for fencing practice, walked beside him in the rose gardens, and sat across from him at tea.
And for two days, Kaelith tried to break her.
He dropped cruel remarks into casual conversation.
He assigned her extra work during joint lessons. He made games with twisted rules only he understood.
Once, he deliberately knocked over her glass of bloodwine and made her apologize for it.
Selene never reacted.
She never complained, never frowned. She obeyed every rule, answered every question, and met every insult with perfect stillness. Like the calm surface of a lake hiding unfathomable depth.
It unnerved him more than if she had cried.
On the third day, the sun hung low in the sky as the two of them walked along a stone path in the palace gardens. Gold-tipped grass swayed gently under the breeze. Kaelith, dressed in a white tunic lined with crimson thread, kicked at a pebble.
"You know," he said lightly, "the last girl they brought here lasted two hours. She cried when I called her dull. You're a bit less fun, I think."
Selene didn't respond.
He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop walking. "Is it because you're used to being alone? Or do vampires just not feel anything?"
She looked at him for a long moment. Her expression didn't change.
Then she simply turned and walked past him without a word.
She made her way toward the main gates, where the Viremont car waited to take her home. But just before she reached the outer courtyard, a voice called out to her.
"You're wasting your time, you know."
A girl about her age stood under the shade of a pear tree, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Her dress was rich but wrinkled from haste. A faint scar marked her cheek—an old wound, but not a forgotten one.
"I was his playmate before you," the girl said bitterly. "My father's the Marquess of Lurien. We thought if I got close to the prince, our family would gain favor with the emperor."
She stepped closer. Her voice grew sharp.
"But all he did was bully me. He told me I was boring. He once said he could have me executed if I annoyed him. That he was a dragon and I was just a pet."
Her lip trembled. "You shouldn't be his playmate. He's a monster."
Selene studied the girl quietly, then spoke in a calm, even tone.
"You were weak," she said. "And your family sent you here only to gain favor. That's all."
The girl blinked. "What…?"
"You never saw him as a person. Only as a title. And now you're upset because he saw through it."
Selene's voice didn't rise. She wasn't angry—just honest.
"And for the record… monsters don't cry."
Unbeknownst to either of them, behind the nearest pillar draped in ivy, Kaelith stood silently.
He had followed Selene out of curiosity, bored and expecting to see another tearful exchange. Instead, he had heard her voice—defending him.
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
But his amber eyes flickered, just for a second, with something that might have been… confusion.
Or something even rarer.
He turned and walked back to the palace without a word.
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