The Vampire Prince's Blindfolded Bride
Chapter 402: Izaak’s Past 2

Chapter 402: Izaak’s Past 2

Arabella, the woman Izaak had been avoiding ever since their first encounter, had become the source of his growing unease. From the moment he arrived in town, she relentlessly sought opportunities to cross his path.

For days, Izaak managed to ignore her persistent efforts, but on the day of his departure, fate played a cruel trick. His carriage broke down unexpectedly, bringing his plans to a sudden halt.

"Your Highness, we will arrange another carriage promptly," Zerah informed Izaak as he stepped out, his expression darkened with frustration.

Just then, Arabella appeared, her presence as timely as ever. "Oh no! The carriage broke down?" she exclaimed, casting a glance toward Izaak, her eyes lingering on him longer than he would have liked. "The inn where His Highness was staying is quite far from here. My house is nearby. Why not come rest while my brother arranges a new carriage for you?" she offered with a bright, eager smile.

Before Zerah could respond, Izaak cut in sharply. "That won’t be necessary. I’ll wait here. Zerah, you can return and see to the arrangements for another carriage," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. Izaak had no intention to stay around this woman.

"But, Your Highness, it isn’t right for you to stand out here. As your loyal subject, I can’t bear the thought of you enduring any discomfort," Arabella insisted, her voice laced with concern.

Izaak’s eyes narrowed. "Then why don’t you listen to your Prince?" he retorted coldly. "As a loyal subject, shouldn’t you leave my sight and cease troubling me?"

Zerah shifted his gaze from Izaak to Arabella, sensing the tension in the air. "Your Highness," he began cautiously, "Lady Arabella is not a bother. The sky looks threatening, and it could rain any moment. I believe we should take shelter at the lady’s house."

Just as Zerah finished speaking, a rumble of thunder echoed overhead, and the dark clouds grew heavier. Reluctantly, Izaak sighed. He had no desire to be soaked in a downpour. With an irritated glance at Arabella, he nodded curtly. "Very well. Lead the way."

Arabella smiled triumphantly and led the way to her grand estate. As they arrived, Izaak couldn’t help but notice the opulence of her surroundings. It became immediately clear that Arabella came from an elite family of vampires. The house butler, along with a line of impeccably dressed servants, stood ready to greet him as though they had been expecting his arrival for some time.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the skies opened up, and heavy rain began to pour outside.

"It seems we made the right choice, Your Highness," Zerah whispered with a subtle smile, glancing at the storm outside.

Izaak remained silent, his expression indifferent, and continued walking ahead, his eyes scanning the elaborate decor until they reached a grand living hall. The high ceilings and ornate furnishings added to the sense of aristocratic grandeur, but none of it impressed him.

"Please, Your Highness, make yourself comfortable," Arabella gestured gracefully toward a luxurious velvet sofa. She then turned to Zerah with a polite smile. "You as well, sir, please take a seat."

Zerah nodded, but Izaak remained standing for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on Arabella before finally taking a seat, his demeanor was still cold and unreadable.

After Izaak took his seat, Arabella’s brother hurried into the room, his expression one of eager respect. "It is an honor to have Prince Izaak here," he said, bowing slightly before lifting his head. "I am Frederick Larson."

"I remember you, Frederick," Izaak replied, his gaze unwavering. "You came to express your gratitude a few days ago. I didn’t intend to trouble your family, but the carriage broke unexpectedly." His eyes shifted to Arabella. "Your sister was rather insistent that I come here."

Frederick smiled warmly. "Your Highness, it’s no trouble at all. In fact, we consider ourselves fortunate to have the opportunity to serve you."

As the rain continued to pound against the windows, Frederick added, "With the weather as it is, I believe His Highness should remain here until the rain passes. In the meantime, you are welcome to rest in one of our guest rooms."

Izaak hesitated, his sharp gaze flicking toward the windows where the rain fell heavily. After a brief silence, he nodded, though it was clear he remained guarded. "Very well," he agreed. "I shall wait."

Izaak rose from his seat and followed Frederick through the grand hallways of the mansion. Meanwhile, Arabella busied herself with arranging refreshments, specifically a blood drink for Izaak, and instructed the head maid to prepare it promptly. Zerah was led to another guest room by a servant, leaving Izaak in the company of Frederick.

Once inside the well-furnished guest room, Izaak surveyed his surroundings briefly before making himself comfortable. "Thank you, Frederick," he said, his voice polite but distant.

Frederick bowed slightly. "Your Highness, the pleasure is mine. I’ll leave you to rest for a while. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call for me." With that, he gave a respectful nod and exited the room.

Izaak had just settled into the recliner when the door creaked open. His eyes flickered toward the entrance, unsurprised to find Arabella standing there, a tray balanced in her hands.

"You knock first and then ask if you’re allowed to enter," Izaak remarked, his voice calm yet edged with irritation as he remained reclined.

Arabella gave a small bow, her expression apologetic but unwavering. "My apologies, Your Highness. It nearly slipped my mind," she responded smoothly before setting the tray down on the table.

She lifted the goblet, filled to the brim with fresh human blood, and held it out to him. "Please, Your Highness, have this. It will help you feel better."

Izaak’s eyes narrowed slightly, his fingers tapping the armrest of the recliner as he contemplated her for a moment. Without a word, he accepted the goblet from her hand, though his gaze lingered on Arabella with suspicion.

"You were behind that, weren’t you?" Izaak asked, his tone sharp and accusatory.

Arabella blinked, feigning confusion. "What does His Highness mean?" she asked, her gaze wide and innocent.

In an instant, Izaak was on his feet, the goblet forgotten as he moved faster than human eyes could track. He pinned Arabella against the wall, his cold hand gripping her neck—not harshly enough to hurt, but firm enough to make his point. His icy gaze locked onto hers, unwavering.

"Arabella," he said, his voice low and menacing, "you can’t fool me. For more than a week, you’ve been scheming, trying to catch my attention, to make me look at you." His fingers tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Do you honestly believe the carriage broke down near your house by coincidence?"

Her expression faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, still playing the innocent.

Izaak’s lips curled in a bitter smile. "It’s clear you haven’t understood my answer yet. Let me make it crystal clear—I’m not interested in you. No amount of scheming will change that."

Arabella’s breath hitched, her eyes widening as the full weight of his words—and his rejection—sank in. She had miscalculated, and now the game was no longer in her favor.

"Why? Am I that hateful?" Arabella’s voice wavered as she looked up at him, her vulnerability beginning to show. "I’ve always been told I’m beautiful. Does His Highness find me ugly?" she asked, her tone filled with desperation.

Izaak chuckled softly, a cold amusement glinting in his eyes. "You really don’t understand, do you?" he said, slowly withdrawing his hand from her neck.

But before he could step away, Arabella grabbed the collar of his overcoat, pulling him close with surprising force. Her eyes burned with intensity as she confessed, "I like Prince Izaak. Is it so wrong to confess love openly? I fell for you the day you fought that werewolf in the forest. Every day since, I get restless, longing for just a single glance of you."

For the first time, her words carried a raw honesty that struck Izaak, but his expression remained as cold and unreadable as ever. He reached for her hands, intending to pull them away from his collar. Before he could, Arabella closed the distance, rising onto her toes and pressing her lips against his.

Her kiss was urgent, filled with all the longing and emotion she had been holding back. Izaak froze for a moment, taken aback by her boldness. Arabella was different, far bolder than the others who had tried to win his favor.

For a split second, he considered pushing her away. But something in the way she kissed him stirred a part of him he hadn’t expected. A warmth spread through his chest, and despite his mind’s resistance, his body responded.

Without thinking, Izaak found himself returning the kiss, allowing the moment to sweep him away as the intensity of her emotions overwhelmed them both. His hand cradled her neck once again as he deepened the kiss this time.