The indignity of being a newborn in a world of millennia old horrors did not diminish with time.
It had been what felt like two agonizingly slow weeks since I Eleanor Thistle had been deposited into my cradle of royal silk and silver. I have no concept of actual time passing only of the endless cycle of sleeping, being fed a nutrient-dense and frankly disgusting liquid, and silently screaming im internal frustration.
But my rage was currently focused on the latest insult: Dmitri.
Dmitri was and he is my eldest brother, a brooding, handsome Vampire-Lycan hybrid who looked like a baroque sculpture that occasionally decided to murder things. He was twenty-seven years old, a towering brute of six-and-a-half feet, and currently stood peering down at her with the disinterested curiosity of a scientist observing a particularly dull amoeba.
Go away, Dmitri! Your face is too perfect. It reminds me of all the handsome people I never dated because I was too busy calculating quarterly taxes!
Dmitri, naturally, couldn't hear the internal monologue. He tilted his head, his silver eyes identical to hers, a constant, irritating reminder of their shared bloodline studying her.
"She's small," Dmitri observed, his voice a low gravelly rumble. He was addressing his middle brother, Caius, a Vampire-Fae hybrid currently balancing a glowing orb of pure magical energy on his nose like a circus trick.
"She's boring," Caius replied flatly, his own expression one of mild annoyance. "When are you going to stop staring at her, Dima? She just soils herself and screams. It's hardly the terrifying event Father promised."
I am not boring! I have the soul of a former entry level accountant who filed tax returns accurately! That is a superpower in itself! And I am not going to stop screaming until I can form words that aren't "goo-goo" and "ga-ga"!
Eleanor responded to the insult with a fresh round of angry squeals and some vigorous limb flailing.
Dmitri didn't react to the noise. Instead, his Lycan half apparently won a momentary battle with his regal decorum. He leaned down, his impossibly strong forearm resting on the cradle's edge, and his long, aristocratic tongue slightly rough, like sandpaper shot out and delivered a quick, wet lick right across Eleanor's cheek.
It wasn't a malicious lick. It was a purely instinctive, animalistic gesture of a pack leader marking territory.
For Eleanor, it was an abomination.
DID HE JUST LICK ME?!
The sheer audacity of the action jolted her. In her past life, if anyone had licked Clarissa O'Connell, she would have called the police and filed a lawsuit. Now, she was a prisoner, and the King's son had just treated her like a puppy!
I am an all-powerful baby and my brother just licked me! This is an outrage! I will not stand for this!
A sudden, uncontrolled surge of raw, hybridized magic roared through the baby's tiny body, fueled by pure, unadulterated humiliation and fury. Eleanor intended to melt his face. She truly did. But without the focus and discipline of a fully grown, trained hybrid, the magic went sideways.
The floating ball of pure magical energy that Caius was expertly balancing on his nose immediately detonated. Not with a spectacular boom, but with a sudden, silent burst of harmless pink glitter.
The glitter coated Caius from head to toe.
Caius froze, a speck of pink dust settling on his perfect, aristocratic Fae nose. Dmitri burst into a loud, wolfish bark of laughter, nearly knocking over the cradle.
Eleanor, momentarily stunned by her own accidental power, felt a tiny, wicked sense of satisfaction before reverting to the only expression she could manage: a loud, furious wail.
Ha! Take that, pretty boy! You're going to be vacuuming for a week! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to figure out how to do that with fire next time.
She smile proudly and huff happily in her crib, she glance at Dmitri and Dmitri was still laughing, a loud, genuine sound that was rare in the somber, dark-hued court. He clapped Caius hard on the shoulder, sending another cloud of shimmering pink glitter puffing around the middle brother.
Caius stood frozen, his eyes wide and vacant as he processed the humiliation. He slowly lifted a hand, inspecting the sparkling residue clinging to his immaculate, blood-red velvet doublet. His face, usually a mask of effortless arrogance, was now a portrait of sputtering, speechless outrage.
"The... the glitter," Caius finally hissed, his voice trembling not with fear, but with aesthetic fury. "It's fae glitter. It will not wash out for a fortnight!"
Good! Eleanor thought gleefully, momentarily forgetting her own physical predicament. You deserve it, Mr. Perfect Magic Orb Guy! Maybe next time you'll think twice before calling the future sovereign "boring." Though, I am technically still boring. But I'm going to be a scary, boring vampire!
Dmitri knelt by the crib, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "I like her," he decided, offering Eleanor a sharp-toothed, genuinely amused grin. "She's got bite."
No, I don't! I'm teething! I probably still can't even chew a carrot! Don't encourage the biting! It's how I got into this mess!
The commotion finally drew the attention of a royal attendant a gaunt, heavily robed Ghoul of the First Circle who shuffled into the room, clearly anticipating an imminent bloodbath rather than a glitter based incident.
"Princes?" the Ghoul rasped, its voice like dry parchment. "Is there... an issue?"
Caius pointed a dramatically sparkling finger at Eleanor. "The issue, Gorok, is the Fourth Blood. She is a menace! She cannot control her output!"
Dmitri cut in, "Nonsense, Caius. She simply expressed herself. She decided your aesthetic needed a touch of whimsy."
Yes! Whimsy! That's the official term for uncontrolled, rage induced fae party dust! Eleanor's tiny chest swelled with pride, though she immediately began wailing again, needing to maintain the illusion of being a standard, powerless, angry baby.
King Marius and Queen Lilith then swept back into the room. They had likely heard the magical feedback, but the sight that greeted them was far from the deadly hybrid clash they might have expected.
Lilith paused, her golden eyes taking in the scene: Caius, shimmering pink and furious, Dmitri, howling with laughter, and their infant daughter, weeping in her silk cradle.
"Caius," Lilith purred, a delicate frown touching her perfect lips. "You are... sparkling."
"Mother, she exploded my familiar energy ball!" Caius protested, shaking his arm in frustration, which only sent more glitter drifting to the black marble floor.
Marius surveyed the scene, his dual-colored eyes resting on Eleanor. He strode over to the crib, his expression unreadable. He looked less angry and more... scientifically fascinated.
"Fae glitter," Marius mused, leaning over Eleanor. "A high frequency energy discharge triggered by emotion. And it manifested as a minor glamour spell. Fascinatingly inefficient." He pinched her tiny nose with a thumb and forefinger.
Inefficient?! I made the most powerful sorcerer in the family look like a rejected carousel pony! How is that inefficient?!
Lilith, however, seemed to find a bizarre sense of pride in her daughter's destructive capability. She reached down and lifted Eleanor, cradling her against her elegant gown.
"She is magnificent," Lilith repeated, looking directly at Caius. "She is powerful enough to shatter the delicate pretenses of her elders. Learn from this, sons. Our little Eleanor Thistle is many things, but she is certainly never boring."
And with that, the Vampire Queen swept out, carrying the all powerful, secretly horrified, corn dog haunted baby princess, leaving behind a baffled Ghoul, a tearfully laughing Lycan, and a furious, sparkling Fae.
Okay, fine. Maybe being a terrifying royal menace isn't so bad. If I can just survive long enough to learn how to turn the glitter into acid...