CHAPTER NO 18
Under the Crimson Veil"
The night hung heavy over the vampire palace. Outside, a storm whispered through the silver trees, carrying the scent of rain and roses. The sky was a deep crimson, the color of secrets.Inside, all was still.
The princess stood by the tall window of her chambers, armor removed, her short black hair damp from the rain she hadn't bothered to dry. Her red eyes reflected the moon's ghostly light. She looked like a statue carved of ice and sorrow.
A soft knock broke the silence.
"Come in," she said quietly.
The door opened and the silver-haired girl entered, holding a small lamp. Its glow softened her pale features, making her seem almost ethereal. "You didn't come to dinner again," she murmured. "You'll make yourself sick."
"I don't need food," the princess replied, not turning. "I only need silence."
The girl hesitated before stepping closer. "Silence can be as dangerous as hunger," she said. "You forget how to feel."
The princess finally looked at her. "And what would you have me feel? Guilt? Regret? I've had enough of both."
Their eyes met—red and blue, darkness and light colliding. For a heartbeat, the world shrank to the space between them.
"You saved me," the girl whispered. "Doesn't that mean anything?"
"It means I was weak," the princess said. But her voice trembled.
The girl took another step. "Then let weakness be beautiful."
The lamp flickered. Shadows danced across the room like restless ghosts. The princess reached out, almost unwillingly, and brushed a strand of pink-white hair from the girl's face. Her fingertips lingered against warm skin.
"You shouldn't be here," she said.
"I want to be here."
Her words broke something fragile inside the princess. She took the girl's hand—small, trembling, alive—and drew her closer until their foreheads touched. The air between them thickened with unspoken feelings: fear, longing, love that should not exist yet refused to die.
"I'm a monster," the princess breathed.
"Then let me be the fool who loves one," the girl whispered back.
A single tear slid down the princess's cheek. She didn't know whether it came from pain or relief. Slowly, she pressed her forehead harder against the girl's, breathing her in as if she could steal her warmth.
Outside, thunder rolled. The lamp's flame fluttered, painting their shadows on the wall—two shapes leaning into each other, fragile and infinite. The princess's hand brushed the girl's hair, her shoulder, the curve of her arm. The girl shivered, not from fear but from the closeness of it all.
The world softened, blurred.
"Stay," the princess said, her voice barely a whisper.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Their eyes closed. The storm outside howled, but the sound faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of two hearts finding the same beat. The lamp went out, leaving only the crimson glow of the moon spilling across them like a blessing.
And under that crimson veil, the night carried them away.