Chapter 24: The Scent Of Blood

𖤐••{AZRÆL’S POV}••⛧

The soft melody of the violins fills the ballroom as Rhiannon and I dance beneath the chandeliers.

My right hand rests around her waist while I hold her hand with the other, our fingers intertwined as we glide across the marble floors.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve forgotten we’re in a room full of people because I get completely lost admiring how gorgeous she is.

When I first laid eyes on her, it was the first thing that caught my attention.

Her beauty.

I have lived for thousands of years, and in that time I’ve known countless beautiful women. But never once have I found myself losing track of everything around me simply because I couldn’t stop looking at one of them.

Rhiannon is different.

And it’s not just her beauty that draws me in anymore.

It’s her sharp tongue. The way she isn’t so soft that she becomes spineless.

"Azræl, they’re staring at me," she murmurs, her tone uneasy.

I glance around the ballroom and immediately notice the unpleasant looks the nobles cast her way. They hide behind hand fans and wine glasses, whispering among themselves.

I turn back to Rhiannon with a small, teasing smile.

"Of course they’re staring," I say. "Isn’t the bride usually the center of attention?"

She gives me an unimpressed look. "That’s not funny."

My smile fades quickly.

"You’re right," I admit. "I’m sorry."

Her expression softens slightly.

"I know this must be uncomfortable for you," I continue, lowering my voice so only she can hear. "Being surrounded by people who don’t want you here, especially on a night when every eye is on you."

She looks away, her fingers tightening around mine.

"But it’s only for tonight," I assure her. "Try not to let them get to you. Once the dancing is over, you won’t have to stand here and endure their stares anymore."

She glances back at me.

"And now that everyone knows you’re my wife, not a single person in this empire would be foolish enough to lay a finger on you," I say firmly.

She nods slowly, but the worry in her eyes doesn’t fade.

The music finally comes to an end, and as Rhiannon and I bow to each other, a wave of applause fills the room.

After the applause dies down, the ballroom comes alive again.

Conversations resume from every corner of the room, accompanied by bursts of laughter and the clinking of glasses. Servants weave through the crowd with golden trays balanced in their hands, offering goblets of bloodwine to the guests.

Rhiannon stays beside me, her fingers still intertwined with mine. She looks a little calmer now, but her eyes nervously wander around the ballroom.

I gently squeeze her hand.

"Come," I murmur. "Let’s get you something to drink."

"Azræl!" A familiar voice calls out.

I glance over my shoulder and spot Lucærys approaching with a wide grin on his face, and his parents are following closely behind him.

"Rhiannon, there’s someone I’d like you to meet," I say.

Luke pulls me into a hug the second he reaches me, patting my back repeatedly as he sways us from side to side.

"Congratulations, brother," he growls with excitement.

He rests his hands on my shoulders as he pulls back.

"Gods, I can’t believe it," he says. "You’re actually married."

I glance at Rhiannon, unable to stop the small smile that curves my lips.

"Neither can I," I admit. "But I’m glad I finally found someone who made me want to."

Lucærys follows my gaze and his eyes settle on Rhiannon for the first time.

"So you’re the mysterious bride," he says, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Rhiannon, meet my cousin," I say, gesturing toward him. "Lucærys Mordred, Crown Prince of Noctis."

Luke places a hand over his chest and lowers himself into a deep bow. "It’s an honor to finally meet you, My Empress."

"Oh, please no," she says quickly. "You don’t have to call me that."

Luke chuckles as he stands upright.

"How about ’Your Majesty’?" he asks.

Rhiannon smiles in return. "I think that’ll do."

"Azræl!" A feminine voice calls my name.

I glance past Lucærys and my face immediately brightens when I see his parents approaching.

"Aunt Erzebet," I call, stepping forward.

She pulls me into a warm embrace before I can say anything else. I laugh softly, wrapping my arms around her in return.

"It’s so good to see you again," I murmur.

She pulls back, smiling warmly at me. "Likewise, dear."

I turn toward her husband.

"King Æres," I say, inclining my head.

Æres shakes my hand with a firm grip, a proud smile spreading across his face as he pulls me closer and claps my shoulder.

"Congratulations, Azræl," he grins. "I’m sure your father would have been proud to see this day."

I smile faintly. "Thank you. I’m glad to see you both again."

"So are we," Erzebet says.

I nod before looking at Rhiannon.

She stands quietly beside me, her expression curious as her eyes move between us.

"Rhiannon, I’d like you to meet Lucærys’s parents," I say, gesturing toward them. "King Æres and Queen Erzebet of Noctis. Queen Erzebet is my father’s sister."

Rhiannon’s brows immediately rise.

"Good evening, Your Majesties," she says politely.

She starts to bow but Erzebet quickly reaches out and catches her gently by the arm.

"Oh, there’s no need for that, dear," she says with a soft laugh. "You’re the Empress now. If anything, I should be the one bowing to you."

Rhiannon straightens, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "I suppose I’m still getting used to that."

"Well, we won’t take up any more of your time," Æres says, shifting his gaze to Rhiannon. "Erzebet and I only came over to welcome the newest member of our family."

"Oh," Rhiannon’s eyes widen with surprise. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Please, call me Æres," he replies with a quiet chuckle. "You’re family now."

Erzebet’s gaze softens the longer she stares at Rhiannon.

"It was lovely meeting you, dear," she says.

A small smile curves Rhiannon’s lips. "Lovely meeting you too."

"Now," Erzebet says, turning to her husband. "Let us leave the newlyweds to enjoy the rest of their evening."

Æres takes her hand and they walk away together.

A faint smile lingers on Rhiannon’s lips as she watches them disappear into the crowd of guests.

"Your parents seem nice," she says, turning to Lucærys.

"They really are," he murmurs as he stares after them.

When he meets Rhiannon’s gaze, a grin spreads across his face.

"Do you mind if I borrow your husband for a moment?" he asks.

꧁ ✧༺ ❦ ༻✧ ꧂

••{RHIANNON’S POV}••

...My husband?

Immediately after the word leaves Lucærys’s mouth, my shoulders drop.

Hearing someone call Azræl my husband just feels wrong. But I force a smile onto my face anyway.

"I don’t mind," I answer.

Azræl opens his mouth to protest, but before he can even say a word, his cousin is already pulling him away.

His eyes remain locked on mine until he’s swallowed by a swarm of guests and I’m left standing alone in the center of the ballroom.

I feel exposed.

My fingers nervously clutch the fabric of my gown as I search the crowd of unfamiliar faces. But the moment I see Azeria walking toward me, I let out a relieved breath.

"Rhiannon," she says softly, pulling me into a warm embrace.

I wrap my arms around her and we stay like that for a heartbeat before stepping back.

"Welcome to House Bloodbourne," she smiles, gently taking my hands. "You have no idea how overjoyed I am to have a sister now. It’s as if my prayers have finally been answered."

Her smile fades as soon as she notices the look on my face.

"Are you alright?" she asks, her brows slowly pulling together.

"I’m fine," I mutter. "Just a little uncomfortable because of the unpleasant looks I keep getting from some of the guests."

"Don’t mind any of it," she replies. "They’re only staring because a human has never become empress before. Other than that they mean you no harm."

I nod, finally feeling a little relaxed.

As my eyes wander across the ballroom, they land on Azræl.

He and Lucærys are standing among a group of nobles, drinking wine and chatting amongst themselves.

As if he can somehow sense my gaze, Azræl suddenly looks up.

Our eyes meet from across the ballroom, and for a moment, neither of us looks away.

A small smile curves his lips before he raises his wine glass toward me in a silent toast.

I don’t know why, but I find myself smiling back.

"Good evening, Empress," an unfamiliar voice says.

I turn to find a servant standing in front of me.

"Your Highness," the servant says, turning toward Azeria. "Your mother wishes to speak with you."

"No," I groan. "Please, don’t go."

"It’s alright," she says softly. ’I’ll be back soon. Just stay right here."

Azeria practically has to pull her hands free from mine before I let her go.

Once she’s out of sight, my nerves return and I suddenly feel exposed again.

I look back in the direction where Azræl was standing a moment ago, but he’s no longer there.

My eyes dart around the ballroom as I search for him, but then, someone else catches my attention.

Delilah.

She’s in a stunning blue gown, holding a glass of wine in her hand as she laughs with a small circle of guests.

Before I can think twice, my feet are already carrying me toward her.

Right before I reach her, I deliberately trip over my own feet, stumbling straight into her.

Everyone around us gasps.

Delilah stands frozen, her eyes wide as she stares at the wine staining the front of her gown.

She lifts her head very slowly, and the moment our eyes lock, her fingers curl into fists.

"Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry," I gasp, placing a hand on my chest. "I didn’t see you there."

"It’s alright, Your Majesty," she says through clenched teeth. "It’s just a dress."

"I feel terrible, Jemimah," I continue softly. "I hope the dress isn’t permanently ruined."

"My name is Delilah," she hisses.

I shrug. "Isn’t that what I just said?"

Delilah steps closer until there’s no space left between us. Then she leans in until her breath brushes against my ear.

"I really hope you enjoy your time here, Empress," she says. "Human lives are so terribly short."

My jaw clenches as she slowly steps back.

We hold each other’s gaze for a few heartbeats before she turns around and walks away.

The second I turn to leave, I nearly run straight into someone else.

"Your Majesty... it’s an honor to finally meet you," says the strange woman before me.

"And you are?"

"Queen Lilith of House Blackthorne," she says, lowering herself into a bow. "Ruler of Crimsonholde."

I give her a polite nod. "It’s nice to meet you too but I need to find my husband."

The second I take a step, Lilith blocks my path.

I frown as I take a slow step back.

Her piercing green eyes narrow as she looks at me from head to toe.

"I find you... peculiar," she says.

"And why is that?" I ask, my tone uneasy.

"Because I can’t stop wondering why the Emperor would marry a human," she answers. "If you don’t mind me asking, did you know His Majesty before you came to Darkholme?"

"I..." my throat bobs. "No... I didn’t."

"Hmm..." she hums, tilting her head. "Strange."

I try to walk past her but she blocks my path again.

"From what I’ve heard, you come from the kingdom of Astragarde and you were abducted by the Emperor," she says quietly. "You’ve only been in Darkholme for seven days and since you say you never knew the Emperor before all this, then obviously, this isn’t a marriage of love. He didn’t want anything from your kingdom either, because if he did, he would have simply taken it instead of putting us all through this mockery of a wedding."

"So tell me, Empress," she says slowly. "Why did the Emperor take you from your home and force you into this marriage?"

"I’m done having this conversation," I mutter.

I try to step past her but she blocks my path yet again.

"Get out of my way," I warn.

"Answer me, Empress," she says sharply. "Answer the question that has plagued the minds of everyone in this room."

My heart starts hammering against my ribs.

I dart to the right to get away from her but she steps in front of me.

"Get out of my way," I warn again, my voice trembling with each word.

I move the other way and finally slip past her but she grabs my wrist.

"Let go of me!" I snap.

I wrench my hand from her grip with so much force that her nails slice through my handglove, cutting my skin.

My gaze falls to my wrist.

The moment blood wells up at the surface of my skin, the music, the chatter, the clinking of glass—

All of it seizes immediately.

Everyone in the ballroom stands motionless as if time suddenly froze.

But all eyes are on me.

Slowly, I turn around to look at Lilith.

She’s gone completely still, her eyes wide and glowing strangely as she stares at the cut on my wrist.

The moment her fangs descend, I slowly begin to back away.

Finally... my eyes land on Azræl.

His eyes are wide and he’s frozen too.

The ballroom is dead silent and he’s nowhere near me.

But when he speaks, I hear him loud and clear.

"Run."