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5

If she thought the halls were big, then the ballroom is ten times bigger. Everywhere she looks, she can see marble and gold. The columns that hold up the ceiling appear to be crafted from pure gold; banners and tapestries decorate the ceiling and limestone walls; and crystal chandeliers illuminate the room with golden light.

A wide set of stairs leads down to the dance floor, where several women stand around in their crimson dresses. To the sides, buffet tables line the walls, stacked with every type of food under the sun. There are exotic fruits, rich and fatty meats, fresh seafood, deserts, cakes, chocolates, and food Elle has never even heard of or seen before.

In the middle of it all is a large fountain flowing with a dark red liquid. Upon first glance, Elle thought it was blood but realized it was red wine when she saw some women filling their glasses underneath it.

Once over the shock of the grandeur of the room, her first instinct is to turn and flee. There is no place for her here; the other women will see right through her. They will know her dress is made of cheaper materials; they will see her blunt nails and the peeling skin around them; and they will smell the lies and deceit Lady Octavia tried so hard to hide underneath all this perfume. And then they will tell the King, and he will have her punished.

There is no hesitation about it; she must flee.

However, as she turns around to leave through the doors, the man has already closed them, trapping her inside with all these nobles.

Frozen in place, Elle begs her heart to stop beating as rapidly. Surely, a vampire can hear it from the other side of the castle. She tells herself there is no way the King will choose her, not by appearance at least. And now she hoped her blood wouldn’t appeal to him as well. Hopefully, it tastes like garlic and onions, or something foul and rotten. She just needs to stand by what she planned, sticking to the shadows and praying to be overlooked.

Choosing to focus on that, Elle descends the stairs slowly in her heels. The last thing she needs is to make a spectacle of herself by falling in front of all these ladies. Nobles don’t fall off their heels, and tonight, she’s a noble.

Once she reaches the bottom, she passes the others unnoticeably, ensuring to keep close to the walls and dark corners. Luckily, the other ladies are too busy conversing and dancing to pay her any mind.

Only six hours, she reminds herself. Only six hours, and she’s free. No more stepmothers, no more stepsisters, no more scrubbing floors until her knees are scraped through and her fingers blistered. After this, she never wants to see a bucket and rags in her life again.

For most of the time, Elle manages to evade the other women and their conversations. But on more than one occasion, her eyes wander to the endless line of buffet tables and the delicacies they display. Her stomach growls every few seconds now, as she hasn’t eaten anything the entire day.

The clock on the wall reads a few minutes to eleven. In a little over an hour, she will be on her way home and then gone for good.

So far, she’s been safe. There hasn’t been a sign of the King or any vampire in that case yet, and Elle begins to wonder if the King will make an appearance at all or just send a messenger to announce which lady he’s chosen.

However, everything changes when the clock strikes eleven and the set of doors opens with a loud, metallic noise.

Every lady in the room falls silent and turns to see the man from earlier enter the ballroom. A servant follows him in, carrying the wooden box containing each woman’s blood sample.

Elle moves in behind a group of ladies to hide herself from view, but peers past their shoulders to see what will happen.

“Ladies from far and wide,” the man announces, “please welcome his majesty, King Lorcan Von Baldassare, third of his name!”

A silhouette appears at the doors, and at the same time, every candle in the room flickers ominously. Elle feels the temperature drop as a figure steps out of the mass of shadows as if he were part of them himself. Her eyes widen as she beholds the shadowy tendrils swirling around his feet, licking at his legs as he moves, alive with whatever dark magic he possesses.

She hasn’t seen his face yet, but the sheer authority that he brought when he entered the ballroom tells her everything she needs to know. This is the new vampire king, and soon one of these women will leave here with him to uphold a centuries-old tradition.

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