In the lavish confines of Vera's chamber, fury erupted like a storm. She stormed through the door, her heels echoing sharply against the marble floor, and swept an arm across her vanity table. Perfume bottles, jeweled combs, and ornate mirrors crashed to the ground in a symphony of shattering glass and scattering trinkets. Her crimson lips curled in a snarl, cheeks still stinging from her mother's earlier slap.
The door burst open again as Morwen and Tobias entered, their expressions a mask of controlled rage.
Slap!
Morwen's hand cracked across Vera's face once more, the sound sharp and unforgiving. "How dare you try to ruin what we've been planning for centuries?" Morwen hissed, her eyes blazing.
"You can't be with him because we are supposed to be his enemies—can't you see that?" Tobias added, his voice low and edged with warning.
Vera clutched her burning cheek, defiance flashing in her eyes. "I don't care what you both are planning. I want Primus, and that's final, Mother."
"I will kill that bitch and take what is rightfully mine," she spat. "I don't want to be part of your dirty scheme, Mother, and you better stay out of my way, or I will do it myself."
With that, Vera stomped from the room, slamming the door behind her and leaving a heavy silence in her wake.
Morwen sighed tiredly, rubbing her temples. "She's going to put me to rest soon. I need to put her far from him if possible."
"Why don't you marry her off to someone else, Aunty?" Tobias suggested, leaning against the wall.
"That's a good idea. After your ex-wife died, you never remarried. Why don't you marry Vera?" Morwen proposed, a calculating gleam in her eye.
Tobias shifted uncomfortably, a shy flush coloring his pale features. "I don't think Vera will want that."
"Oh, I can see that you care for her," Morwen said with a knowing smile. "I will make sure you marry her."
She paused, twisting the large emerald ring on her finger thoughtfully. "Now, about Lady Hazel… don't you think she resembles Ruelle? I mean, different hair color, but the look is almost the same."
Tobias nodded slowly. "Then if you suspect her, why don't we tell the others? The full moon will arrive soon—we need to do something before then."
"Contact the witches," Morwen ordered decisively. "We need a potion to test her, to know if she perhaps possesses some kind of supernatural powers. And send Lucas to visit her father. Make sure he tells everything he knows about her—and how she was adopted."
"Yes, Aunty," Tobias replied, bowing slightly before departing.
After breakfast, Primus led Hazel to the palace stables, the morning air crisp and scented with hay and leather. Sunlight glinted off the sleek coats of the new horses he had acquired—magnificent black stallions with fiery eyes and graceful mares that nickered softly in greeting.
"These arrived just after my return," he explained, running a hand along one's flank. "Strong, loyal beasts. Like their master."
Hazel smiled tentatively, stroking a mare's muzzle. Soon, they mounted a pair and rode out into the vast forest bordering the palace grounds. The rhythm of the hooves and the whispering wind through the trees eased some of the tension from the morning's awkward breakfast.
They dismounted in a secluded glade, tethering the horses before Primus took her hand. "I want to show you something. Come with me."
He guided her deeper into the woods until they reached a hidden paradise—a cascading waterfall tumbling into a crystal-clear pool, surrounded by vibrant, colorful flowers that bloomed in impossible hues. Butterflies danced in the mist, and the air hummed with magic, as if the place existed outside of time.
Primus bent down, plucking a delicate bloom the exact shade of Hazel's eyes, and tucked it behind her ear. "What is this place?" she breathed, mesmerized. A profound sense of familiarity washed over her, like returning home after a long absence.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in her mind: Do you like it, little rabbit?
The warmth of it sent a thrill through her. "I love it," she whispered aloud, then, caught in the moment, added excitedly, "Can we spend our night here?"
Yes, little rabbit, the voice replied tenderly.
Hazel blinked, confusion flickering. Why am I hearing voices? Wait… that voice… it's Primus's.
She lifted her gaze to find him watching her intently, his crimson eyes soft yet probing.
"Have we been here before?" she asked, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. Then, shaking her head, "What am I even asking? We just met."
She turned abruptly, walking back toward the horses to hide her bewilderment. Primus lingered a moment, his expression unreadable, before following.
Upon returning to the palace, Primus's hunger gnawed at him fiercely—the last blood he had tasted was Hazel's during the ball, and since then, nothing else satisfied. He summoned a young servant girl to the drawing room where Hazel sat with him, reviewing wedding invitations.
Without preamble, he pulled the girl close and sank his fangs into her neck, drinking deeply. His eyes remained locked on Hazel the entire time, gauging her reaction.
Hazel's stomach twisted with a confusing storm: jealousy sharp as a blade, mingled with disgust at the intimate act. "Why are you drinking from her?" she blurted out, horrified at her own words.
Realizing her slip, she clutched her skirts and fled toward her chamber, cheeks burning.
Primus released the servant with a faint smile, dismissing her. He summoned Lazarus to his study shortly after.
"Send an invitation to her family for the wedding coming with the full moon," he instructed, gazing out the window at the sprawling grounds.
Lazarus bowed. "As you wish, my lord."
Primus sipped from a goblet of warmed blood tea, its flavor bland compared to the craving that haunted him. "I think she found the waterfall garden in the forest familiar. It was Ruelle's favorite place. She asked if we've been there before. I need to marry her before she remembers—that is, if she truly is Ruelle."
"My lord," Lazarus advised cautiously, "I think we should prevent anything that might make her remember. And perhaps… you should make her fall in love with you soonest."
Primus's eyes hardened. "Go carry out the tasks given to you, Lazarus. Send invitations to the nobles as well."
He paused, a shadow crossing his features. "Keep an eye on Vera for now. She might be plotting something."
"Yes, my lord," Lazarus replied, withdrawing quietly.