"Maria Salvatores Si Quivernia Ruverlia Serivina Vandlerin Diyath Shouin Yme."
My name is long, sophisticated, and carries a touch of drama with every syllable.
I listened quietly without showing any reaction, keeping my head lowered as the elder priest in the church spoke my name with such ease, his tone respectful and deeply serious.
Behind me, I could feel eyes falling on my bare skin, wearing a backless white dress as though I were going to marry.
But I know this is not a marriage ceremony, for a few steps ahead of me are the coffin and the funeral taking place.
As soon as the surname Yme leaves the elder's lips, I follow the instruction to lift my face.
My eyelashes tremble, and my red lips part slightly as I show my tongue to receive the blessing of God.
Before me are the paintings and murals of the heavens, bathed in colored lights that feel alive, reminiscent of the Renaissance.
For a moment, my attention lingers on one spot where an angel is being stabbed by a demon.
Then my gaze slowly drifts to the edge of the elder's face, finally settling on his old, wrinkled features.
His lips move with deliberate slowness, speaking the ceremonial words that echo through the hall and end with a phrase that slowly sinks into my mind.
"By the grace of Heaven and the witness of Earth, thou shalt rise as a great one, who shall shed not blood for the mere pleasure of mortals. Let the dust of both worlds mark thy steps, that from them thou mayest ascend above all. From this moment forth, thou art declared the rightful heiress of the Eastern House of Mercury..."
In that moment, a second later, a chalice hovered above my face before slowly tilting to pour into my waiting tongue.
The crimson liquid fell in a measured, deliberate stream, warm, metallic, and sticky against my red tongue.
Tears began to form as disgust rose in my chest, yet I held my emotions and did not dare close my eyes.
For what felt like an eternity, I knelt upon the soft cushion, receiving the blood of another on my lips.
Some of it fell onto the sacred floor of the sanctuary as the blood of the dead now coursed through my throat.
My hardship did not last long, for the chalice soon emptied.
I closed my eyes subconsciously and finally tasted the remnants of this unwanted ceremony.
Nearly coughing from repulsion, I felt the cold gaze demanding obedience from the man standing not far from the elder priest.
It forced me to swallow everything.
"Now, before the House, I present to you the one and only Heiress of the illustrious House Mercury."
The elder priest's announcement echoed through the hall.
Two men in black suits assisted me to stand straight, and someone wiped the red stains from my lips with a white handkerchief.
I was about to thank them, showing my manners, when I remembered I could not.
I stopped my own distasteful tongue and let my eyes fall on the golden chains binding my wrist and foot, now slowly unlocked by a golden key, each click echoing in the sacred hall.
Slowly, I finally turned, my black-colored, innocent gaze meeting a group of men in black suits, uniforms, and even casual attire that glimmered with a dangerous light.
Everyone was clad in black, not a hint of white in sight, as if the color itself belonged to them.
There were no words of congratulations, no claps of hands.
Only silent gazes and bodies bowed at ninety degrees.
Their straight posture held only until I began walking down the center aisle and passing them, leaving the church and formally closing the ceremony of inheritance.
At that moment, as I continued my steps leaving the House of God, I had officially become the Heiress of House Mercury.
A sleek black car was waiting for me. Someone opened the door, and I entered without looking back at the group of men behind.
I knew they were following me, but I sat inside, straight-backed and staring ahead.
The moment the car door closed, my hand rose to my mouth, trying to hold back the urge to vomit what I had swallowed earlier.
The familiar driver raised the partition door, and at last I released the grievances weighing on my heart.
Discomfort crawled over me at the memory of what had happened, how I had no choice but to drink human blood.
I scratched at my neck, desperate to claw the filth out, only to meet the cold resistance of the collar against my fingers.
The other car door opened.
A man in his early thirties, regarded as my uncle's trusted right hand and Consigliere, entered and sat next to me.
When he saw my pitiful state, he said nothing and showed no frown.
Instead, he pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket, held my chin softly in his hand, and gently wiped the corners of my lips.
"Oh, my dear young Mistress. How miserable you are now… Does it disgust you to drink your uncle's blood?"
An ice-chilling chuckle escaped the man's lips.
His light grey eyes stared down at me as I avoided meeting them, sensing how fixated he was on me in this moment.
After he finished, he slipped the handkerchief back into his pocket and offered me a piece of milk candy called Haohao.
I reluctantly took it from his long, slender fingers, desperate to rid myself of the iron taste clinging to my mouth.
I unwrapped the candy and let it rest on my tongue, savoring it for a long while.
Its sweet, fragrant milk flavor slowly spread, dulling the bitter taste of blood and easing the knot of discomfort twisting inside me.
"You're now the Godfather of House Mercury." He began, his voice low and deliberate. "Do not show this weakness to anyone, not even to me. Do you understand?"
Understanding those words was enough for me to look back at him with a faint glare.
He caught it immediately, his eyes locking on mine. I quickly looked away, feeling my heartbeat faster than before, and I couldn't help mumbling just enough for him to hear.
"I do not wish to become the leader of your thugs. I want to live a normal life."