Married To Darkness
Chapter 279: Vampire In Court

Chapter 279: Vampire In Court

The castle buzzed with chaos as the carriage rolled into the courtyard, its creaking wheels announcing the arrival of survivors and news of the horrors that had transpired.

Servants, guards, and nobles spilled out from every corner of the castle—princes, princesses, the king and his concubines, and even the queen’s maids, though her chambers were too far to reach in the commotion.

"What happened?" voices whispered and shouted simultaneously.

Some were concerned, others skeptical, and a few purely curious.

The health center, typically quiet and orderly, was now bustling.

Physicians and healers rushed between beds, tending to the fainted princesses Christina and Jolene, Mire, and others who bore signs of trauma.

Mire stirred faintly, her lips trembling as if trying to form words.

The king, clad in a heavy robe, arrived with an entourage of guards and advisors.

His face was pale, his eyes flickering with anger and concern. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Who has returned? And what news do you bring of this treachery?"

Alaric stepped forward, his presence commanding despite his disheveled appearance.

Salviana stood by his side, her fiery red hair and green eyes drawing stares from the crowd.

The murmur of voices hushed as he began to speak.

"Your Majesty," Alaric said, his voice calm but firm, "the threat has been dealt with. Richard was the culprit behind the disappearances. He used vile rituals to try to summon beasts from another realm, sacrificing innocent lives to strengthen his dark magic."

Alaric didn’t want an idea of being a vampire to spread so he doesn’t mention it at all.

Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd. Some clutched their pearls or drew crosses over their chests; others whispered in disbelief.

"And what of the princesses?" the king asked sharply, his gaze flicking to the unconscious women.

"They were used as bait," Alaric admitted. "With your permission, they were placed in harm’s way to lure out the true culprit. They survived, but not without suffering."

The king’s expression darkened, but before he could respond, murmurs erupted among the gathered nobles.

"Used as bait? How reckless!"

"Oh, they were evil!"

"Did they even think of the consequences?"

"But it worked, didn’t it? Richard’s gone!"

Among the onlookers, Princess Genevieve stood near the back of the crowd, her expression hard and cold as she watched Alaric and Salviana. Her fists clenched at her sides, her gaze narrowing as the crowd’s murmurs shifted from outrage to praise.

"They saved the kingdom," one voice said.

"Alaric risked his life—and hers—for us all," added another.

Salviana bowed her head, her cheeks flushed at the growing attention. Alaric, however, stood tall, accepting the gratitude with quiet dignity.

Genevieve’s anger simmered beneath her composed exterior.

Why should they be glorified? she thought bitterly.

Her eyes darted to Salviana, who was now receiving murmured thanks and admiration from a few nobles.

She’s just an outsider, a witch—how dare they celebrate her?

Near the health center, the maids and servants were clustered together, sharing fragments of what they’d heard.

Some exaggerated the tale, adding details of heroic duels and monstrous beasts larger than life.

"They say Alaric defeated Richard with one blow!"

"No, no! He fought an entire army of witches before the beasts arrived."

"I heard Salviana called the beasts back to the portal with her witchcraft," one whispered, earning a sharp roll of the eyes from another.

Amid the chaos, Lucius and Jaefel leaned against a nearby column, their faces weary but amused.

"Look at them," Jaefel muttered, nodding toward the gathered crowd. "Turning a nightmare into a story fit for the taverns."

"Let them have their tales," Lucius said with a shrug. "We know the truth—and that’s enough."

As the night wore on, the crowd began to disperse, though the buzz of speculation lingered in every corridor of the castle.

Inside the health center, Salviana moved quietly among the wounded, her hands trembling slightly as she helped the maids tend to Mire and the princesses.

Alaric caught her gaze and crossed the room to her side. "You’re pale," he said softly, concern etched in his expression.

"I’m fine," Salviana replied, though her voice wavered. She glanced toward the door, where Genevieve stood watching them with a thinly veiled scowl.

"We’ll speak to the king in the morning," Alaric said, his voice low and reassuring. "For now, rest. You’ve done enough."

As Salviana leaned against him, exhaustion settling in her bones, Genevieve turned on her heel and strode away.

Her mind raced with thoughts of vengeance, her heart burning with jealousy.

The night had been won, but in its wake, new tensions were already brewing.

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Morning arrived, and the castle bustled with excitement and preparation for the court session and the small celebration to follow. Servants darted from room to room, carrying gowns, jewelry, and platters of breakfast. Every corner of the castle seemed alive with anticipation, except for the quiet chambers of two individuals who were preparing in their own ways—Lucius and Jean.

Lucius in his mansion, stood before a tall mirror in his dimly lit room, the sunlight carefully blocked by heavy curtains.

He adjusted the collar of his dark, tailored tunic, its intricate embroidery catching the faint candlelight.

He wore one of his finest outfits, a deep black with silver detailing, paired with polished boots that added to his regal air.

Despite his polished appearance, a wry smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the umbrella leaning against the wall. "A vampire at court," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Nothing draws attention like a man carrying an umbrella under a clear morning sky."

He sighed, fastening his cloak. But it’s a raining season so maybe they’d think he was being cautious, he just wanted to be there with Jean.

The celebration was bound to be a spectacle, and though he preferred to avoid such events, duty called.

In another part of the Kingdom, Jean stood in front of her mirror, her room a whirlwind of discarded gowns.

It was one of those days.