The sun blazed high over the kingdom of Zarafeth. At its heart sat the capital, Derefield, where the royal palace loomed over the city.
Zarafeth was a kingdom intended for vampires, yet it was home to many different kins. The vampires held absolute power, while other races possessed fewer rights and less favor in the eyes of the law. Despite this inequality, life moved on; the intelligent preferred to mind their own business, while others were less discreet.
Inside the palace, servants moved meticulously, absorbed in their duties. Two men walked toward the eastern wing, discussing matters of state. Both carried an undeniable air of authority; servants bowed low, keeping their heads down to avoid any perceived slight.
Prince Rory walked to the right, his dashing profile drawing stolen glances from every woman he passed. The man accompanying him was no less handsome; together, they were a pair one couldn't help but stare at.
"Has Minister Zafly reported on the Firstark case yet?" Rory asked, his voice melodious yet curt.
The man walking beside the brown-haired prince—his closest confidant—replied, "Yes, he did. But Rory, Minister Geal seems to be acting suspiciously."
Rory hummed, a thoughtful expression clouding his features.
Away from the capital, in the city of Ironvale, a carriage moved with a rhythmic clip-clop through the streets. Inside sat two ladies.
"Please, pull the carriage to the side," a voice called out, followed by a knock on the window near the coachman.
A woman in her mid-twenties descended from the carriage, followed by a young girl who looked no older than ten. The coachman held the door steady as the lady stepped out. She was dressed simply, yet the quality of the fabric betrayed her wealthy background.
The little girl followed with small steps, her hand held softly by the woman as they walked ahead. They were surrounded by shops, most of which were owned by vampires.
The woman entered a boutique that few could afford. They were immediately approached by a middle-aged man who clapped his hands in greeting. "Oh! Mrs. Saipon, welcome. How may we help you today?"
The bearded man had slight crimson eyes, marking him as an average vampire. He looked pleased by their presence; though the Saipons were a human household, they were prosperous enough to have even vampires seeking their favor.
"It seems the little girl needs a new pair of footwear," the attendant noted, observing the blonde child looking around with curiosity.
It wasn't just the girl's blonde hair that drew attention, but her eyes—unusual amethyst orbs that pulled the gaze of everyone in the room as she scanned the shop before settling her stare on the man who had spoken.
"Floria, look at them do you like them?" Asked lady Saipon chucked to the little girl looking at a pair of shoes. To which she slowly nodded looking back at her mother as if measuring if it was fine.