Chapter 12 / Risha’s 11th birthday

June 4th 15.001.  

Velaric’s Mansion, Bloodspire, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The day of Risha’s 11th birthday party arrived. The mansion buzzed with energy: servants darted back and forth, trays clinked, decorations shifted and readjusted, and the faint sound of a piano floated through the halls. Hands moved quickly and voices rose over the murmur, coordinating, reminding, correcting.

Eloise paused in the corridor, smoothing her hair. She wore a dress Dominique had specially ordered for the occasion: a cascade of ivory silk, the corset cinched to her frame and balanced by spectacular off-the-shoulder sleeves, puffed like gathered clouds. Embroidered details shimmered in the lamplight along the full skirt, while a matching waterfall of tiered ruffles spilled down one side, trailing elegantly behind her as if the fabric itself refused to stay still. Regal yet romantic, the gown had a grace that suited her perfectly.

Her gaze kept drifting back to Dominique, flitting between conversations, checking arrangements, smiling at everyone even as exhaustion tugged at the corners of her expression. Eloise recognized the anxious energy hiding behind that big, bright smile.

Dominique’s vivid pink hair was twisted into twin braided buns that unraveled into long plaits down her back, elegant and playful at once. The dress she wore was short and fitted, dark green plaid with thin straps and lace edging the neckline, the fabric gathered into an asymmetrical drape at her hip. Paired with sleek, high-neck boots—flat-soled to balance her already imposing height—the whole look gave her a bold edge, rebellious yet deliberate, impossible to ignore.

Everything was almost ready, though Dominique had insisted on one last check before the guests arrived, because there were others tonight: nobles and influential figures she needed to greet. Politics, alliances, appearances—everything was part of her role as the only daughter of Umbra’s ruler.

Her parents made brief appearances, offering soft, polite words and gentle nods before quickly moving on to other guests. Just before they disappeared again, one of her father’s aides approached, bowing formally, a small card in hand. Dominique’s parents nudged her forward.

“Dominique, perhaps you’d like to meet Lord Veyran?” her mother suggested, voice soft but insistent. “He’s suitable, influential, and…”

Dominique’s smile widened, but her eyes flickered with playful rebellion. “Of course, Mother. I’d be delighted to hear his… proposals.”

Eloise watched, heart constricting under an unfamiliar blend of feelings. Her face twisted into a strange expression—half frustration, half amusement—but Dominique, ever perceptive, caught it.

As Dominique spoke with Lord Veyran, Eloise’s thoughts churned. They’re awful. Dominique deserves someone who actually cares about her, not that guy. Am I… even allowed to think something like that? Her cheeks warmed involuntarily and she looked away.

Noticing Eloise’s tension and assuming it came from her family, Dominique reached for her hand mid-gesture and spun her into a light twirl down the hallway. “Let’s dance, Eloise! Forget all that seriousness,” she laughed, effervescent.

Eloise hesitated, caught somewhere between jealousy and relief. Her thoughts tumbled over themselves. But the movement of the dance, Dominique’s warmth, and her playful laughter slowly unknotted something inside her.

Dominique spun effortlessly, her movements light and teasing, guiding Eloise with a confidence that made the steps feel natural. Every turn pulled another laugh into the air, sparkling and easy, as she gently poked fun at Eloise whenever she stumbled or hesitated.

The elf’s cheeks burned as she tried to match the vampire’s pace, feet tangling slightly, but her eyes kept being drawn back to Dominique’s bright, confident smile. How does she make it look so easy? Eloise thought, flustered yet mesmerized, feeling a strange mix of admiration, frustration, and something warmer she didn’t fully understand. Dominique leaned in close during a spin, whispering a playful joke, and Eloise felt her pulse jump, fighting to keep her composure as her gaze darted once more to that radiant grin.

♥︎

Meanwhile, on the third floor, Sukira stopped in front of Elon’s door. Her black backless dress—the same one she had worn to the Fenroth gala months ago—hugged her figure with quiet elegance. High at the front, the fabric closed at the neck before falling away in the back, revealing the constellation of scars and ink etched across her skin. Her high-heeled boots rang softly on the wooden floor, each echo as sharp as her presence.

The only difference from that previous gala was her mouth painted in a deep, striking red, and her short black hair, slicked back with gel, gleaming like polished obsidian.

“Is this some kind of déjà vu?” she joked, tilting her head just as the bedroom door opened.

Elon’s eyes flicked to her, his heart giving a small, startled jolt at the sight. His gaze followed the line of her back, the curve exposed by the clean cut of the dress, every tattoo and mark laid bare.

She walked toward him and closed the door behind her.

I never noticed how beautiful she is. He had, really—but only in a factual way; nothing more. Now his eyes traced the way her pale skin caught the light, the delicate tattoos peeking out everywhere, the slight angle of her head when she smiled… all of it hit him with a force he hadn’t anticipated. For months he had kept his distance, rationalizing everything away, but the realization now crashed into him: he was starting to feel something for her… or at least, he was wondering.

“Well, you kept wearing that earring,” he said softly, nodding at the small piece glinting on her ear. “You haven’t taken it off once these past few months.” He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t dare.

Instead, Sukira brushed her fingers over the earring’s twin in her own ear. “Of course. It’s the first gift anyone has ever given me. I can’t just let it go… though I’m still waiting for the pair that completes it.” She kept playing with it, her hand drifting to the matching earring in his ear.

For the first time, Elon tried to flirt on purpose, leaning in with a faint, deliberate smile. “You can keep it,” he murmured, voice low and measured, close enough to her ear that he could feel the cold bleeding from her skin. “But only if you give me something in return.”

She arched a brow, mock-serious, stepping closer still until their bodies barely brushed. “And what could possibly be worthy enough for the sorcerer prince? A boring old book? A relic? Maybe a gold ring? I don’t think you need a favor from an assassin, but I wouldn’t mind giving you one,” she added, fingers toying idly with the collar of his shirt.

Elon wore much what he always did, but the fabrics carried a finer sheen tonight. His shirt, silk instead of linen, caught the light with each shift of his shoulders, the collar fastened higher than usual but still loose enough to show the line of his throat. His rings chimed softly when he moved, layered chains and that earring finishing the ensemble. His hair, usually messy, had been pulled half-up, loose strands framing his face and giving him a careless sort of polish—as if he hadn’t tried at all.

Elon’s gaze locked onto hers, steady and intent. He wasn’t going to surrender to her game. He knew perfectly well this was all part of one.

There was fascination in the way she faced him without flinching—a sorcerer—admiration for her strength and audacity, and beneath all that, a tingle—dangerous, intoxicating, exhilarating—that he had never allowed himself to feel so clearly. Every instinct he had screamed at him to reach for her, to take what he had only just realized he wanted.

“I’d like your heart,” he said, not thinking the words through, raw honesty slipping out, close enough that their breaths mingled.

Sukira’s chest tightened for a second as she let go of his collar. And he means it. How boring. How stupid.

The moment shattered under a sharp, high-pitched squeal, and small hands throwing the door open.

“Come on! Come ooon!” Risha’s voice rang down the corridor, bright and loud. “It’s MY BIRTHDAY! We’re gonna be laaate!”

He dragged them both toward the main salon, where the party was in full swing. Children raced between adults, laughing and playing; nobles traded greetings and whispers; a soft duet of piano and voice drifted from the far end of the room.

Risha’s laughter echoed as he bounced from one group of children to another, teasing and joking. Eloise moved among the adults, soaking up fragments of conversation and learning vampire etiquette: alliances, unwritten rules, the art of hiding power beneath courtesy.

Elon picked up a glass of red wine and let his gaze settle on Sukira’s figure as she slipped through the crowd, expertly avoiding old acquaintances.

Dominique moved with practiced ease, joining political discussions, greeting relatives, smiling warmly. Eloise noticed the strain behind that smile, the tension in her shoulders betraying the effort to keep the mask flawless.

Somewhere near the center of the hall, Elon found Sukira again. She was sitting with her chin resting on one hand, sipping cold vodka.

“What’s up, handsome?”

He held a hand out to her—a quiet invitation amid the chaos. She took it, and they moved together as the music shifted into a slow jazz.

“I hate this,” she murmured under her breath, “but I’m happy he’s having fun. He’s been surrounded by stupid adults and big dangers for too long.” Her eyes stayed on Risha, not on her dance partner.

Elon didn’t answer, but he tried to take control. They fell into a new kind of fight they’d never had before: their steps careful, testing, silently competing to see who would lead whom. Eventually, Elon’s hand settled firmly on the small of her back. The familiar burn lit up—his hands always too warm for her cold skin—and Sukira shivered slightly but didn’t pull away; she could handle it.

“Don’t forget I’m stronger than you,” he whispered against her ear, pressing her closer as she kept testing the distance. “I can handle you just fine. I don’t even need magic for that.”

Fine, you lead. I’ll let you believe you can control me; that’s okay.

She smirked and gave up resisting, letting herself move with him. After a moment, in a low voice, she murmured, “By the way, you can’t have that. My heart’s broken to pieces; it’s not worth anything anymore. I’m sorry, blondie.” Her voice was completely flat—no sarcasm, no bitterness.

Elon looked at her and leaned in to answer, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “You’re smart enough to understand that was the end of the conversation.”

They kept dancing a little longer in silence while the party carried on around them: laughter, clinking glasses, children running, nobles conversing.

When Dominique finally gathered the group out on the balcony, the music softened and Risha’s eyes went wide at the sight of the cake, candles flickering. Thanks to Dominique’s pink-uniformed guards, nobody else was allowed near; for the first time in days, it was just them.

Eloise bent toward the boy. “Don’t forget your wishes! You need three. Think them through, then blow. Wish them with all your heart, Riri.”

Risha didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly what he wanted. He blew the candles out in a single breath, gaze sweeping over everyone gathered there: Sukira, Elon, Dominique, Eloise, even Cloud. He didn’t say a word, but happiness radiated off him in quiet waves.

Eloise cut the cake, and after a small slice, Risha ran off again to rejoin the other children, disappearing into the laughter and games. Cloud padded after him, faithful as ever.

“What do you think he wished for?” Dominique asked Sukira.

“I don’t know,” Sukira replied quietly. “But I think I’d give up everything to make his wishes come true.” Maybe it was the alcohol in her blood talking.

♥︎

The hours slipped by. The mansion grew quieter as guests trickled out. Risha slept in a corner, curled against Cloud’s side. When the party finally ended, Elon scooped the boy into his arms, ready to carry him to his room. Dominique lingered by the salon doors, letting her gaze sweep the room one last time before it settled on Elon and Sukira.

“You know,” she said softly, fingers stroking Risha’s hair with gentle certainty, her voice filled with warmth and a calm conviction, “La Paz is the perfect place for him to grow up. You should take him there.

Elon and Sukira traded a look over the sleeping boy, his head tucked against Elon’s shoulder.

♥︎

The sound of heels echoed down the corridor, first measured, then quickening. Dominique slipped her arm through Eloise’s, jolting her out of her thoughts.

“Domi! You scared me.” Eloise’s heart lurched as she turned, eyes wide.

“Let me walk you to your rooms,” Dominique said simply. Eloise nodded, grateful for the company.

“Would it be too much to ask if… you could help me with my hair?” Eloise asked, a little embarrassed. “I feel like I’ll be hours trying to undo it on my own.”

Dominique guided her to the dressing table. Eloise sat, cheeks warm, while Dominique carefully unpinned each braid and curl, her fingers grazing through the blonde waves.

“Hey…” Dominique murmured, her voice softer now. “I don’t want to pressure you, but… will you come with me tomorrow?”

Eloise blinked at her reflection in the mirror. “Oh—you’re leaving already?”

“I can’t stay here any longer.” Dominique’s voice was steady, but tension thrummed beneath it. “My parents are trying to marry me off to random men. And I’ve been summoned to La Paz. It’s time to move things forward.”

Marriage proposals?? More than one??

“It’s okay if you decide not to come,” Dominique went on quickly. “I mean, I’d love to have you there. I can’t picture it without you.”

What does she mean? She wants me there for her, or for La Paz? It doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s enough. Eloise drifted for a moment, only to be pulled back by a small, unintentional tug at her hair.

“Domi… I’ll go. I’ll join you.”

Dominique froze, then threw her arms around her, hugging her with sudden ferocity, the words spilling out fast, unchecked. “You don’t know what that means to me. I thought you’d say no!! I thought I’d have to go alone with all those boring people. I told you from the start you’re my favorite travel companion, didn’t I?? Oh, this is perfect. I’m so excited I won’t be able to sleep.”

Eloise didn’t answer. She just held on tighter.

Once Dominique finished undoing her hair, Eloise slipped into the bathroom to wash her face and wipe away her makeup. When she returned, the duchess had slumped half-sitting on the bed, boots still on, chin tilted as if she’d intended to stay awake.

Eloise gently pulled off her boots and tugged a blanket over her. Then she slid into the space beside her. The bed was wide, but Eloise’s thoughts crowded close: questions, hopes, the quiet rhythm of Dominique’s breathing.

I can do this.

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, facing her.

♥︎

The mansion lay in silence now—the kind of silence that seemed to swallow every footstep. The echo of children’s laughter felt like it belonged to another life.

On the far side of the wing, Sukira pushed open the door to Risha’s room. Elon was settling the boy beneath the sheets, brushing his hair from his forehead. Sukira leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching. She tipped her chin toward the small balcony doors, then pointed deliberately at Cloud. The beast understood his assignment perfectly, sitting down beside the boy’s bed in a sentinel’s posture.

Elon lingered a moment over the child, then followed her outside. The doors clicked softly shut behind them, though their eyes stayed fixed on Risha through the glass.

Sukira placed a cigarette between Elon’s lips and slid another between her own. Elon sparked a floating flame and lit them both at once. The glow flared briefly, then shrank to steady orange embers.

“Let’s take Risha to that place,” Sukira said lightly, exhaling toward the glass, eyes still on the sleeping boy. “It’ll be better than some random villa or town. Better than dragging him around, half-hidden, half-safe. Besides, your sisters, Dominique—they’ll all be watching over him.”

Elon leaned his back against the railing, gaze distant. His answer came soft, cutting through the quiet, carrying a fragile hint of hope. “Let me fix it.”

Sukira turned her head. “Huh?”

“Let me fix your heart.”

She scoffed, dryly, masking the faintest flicker of unease and forcing her tone to stay playful. “I don’t think you have that kind of power.”

“Then let me try,” he shot back, the words too quick, as if they’d leapt out without his permission.

“How persistent.” She rolled her eyes. The smirk dropped. “No.” After a beat, her voice shifted, unsettlingly serious. “But as a counteroffer, I can give you my body instead.” Her teeth flashed as the smirk slid back into place.

Elon turned fully toward her, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t want your body if I can’t have your soul.”

That earned him a sideways look. Sukira leaned in close, brushing against him, inhaling at the open collar of his shirt as if searching for the truth there. “Hm. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I’m completely serious. As always.” And it was true—Elon wasn’t the type to joke.

She kept trying to pry something out of him, frustrated by the whole situation; her senses were the only thing she had ever fully trusted.

“Knock it off.” He gently took her hands away from the collar of his shirt, slow and steady. “I’m wearing a blocking sigil,” he said evenly, “so you can’t snoop.”

“Clever.” Her lips curved faintly, respect and irritation tangled together. “So this is how normal people do it? I’m just supposed to trust you?”

Elon didn’t answer with words; he only gave a firm nod.

She clicked her tongue. “What a shame. I’m not interested. And I can definitely live without the matching pair for this earring.” She touched her ear, smiling. “The one you gave me is enough to keep me satisfied.”

For a while, they simply stood there in silence, the sounds of a restless city drifting up from not far away. Inevitably, the conversation circled back to Risha.

“We take Risha there and then what?” Elon asked, emotionless, almost defeated, still not looking at her.

“And then he grows up, and sooner or later we just turn into some far-off memory, and that’s it, I guess.” She paused, then went on, “I can’t stay there. I’ve got my own agen—”

“Your own agenda, yeah. I know.” He was angry now, but trying to hide it. “What is this thing you’re in such a rush to do?”

Her eyebrows shot up; his annoyed reaction caught her off guard.

“Pff. What was that? No one’s ever rejected you before, prince?” A short laugh slipped out—sharp, almost cruel—but she cut it off quickly, remembering the sleeping boy inside.

She realized he wasn’t going to play along with her teasing, so she forced herself to sober. Once she’d steadied, she jabbed back:

“Why don’t you stay there with him? Raise him as yours. Make him the greatest sorcerer of all time.”

“I might do that.” The answer came immediately, out of habit.

“You might? You’ve got hours to decide, you know…” She flicked her wrist like she was checking a watch.

Elon still didn’t look at her. He loved the idea—but not in La Paz. He would rather raise Risha somewhere quiet, like the lake house, than in a country built on the bones of compromises and political agreements. He didn’t believe in the dream the elite talked about anymore. Their ideals sounded bright, but to him they were just illusions. If others still wanted to chase them, fine. He’d lost his faith in that a long time ago.

“That place, La Paz—it’s all politics, all eyes, all expectations on the powerful. I’ve already lived under that kind of scrutiny once. I like the idea of continuing his training, but having to do it there…”

Sukira exhaled slowly, bitterness edging the sound. “Then why the hell would you do it at all, then?” For her, things like this weren’t that complicated; she lived in black and white. “Take Risha and go live in some forgotten house on a far-off hill instead.”

“Because…” Elon finally looked at her, gaze sharp, almost accusing. “He deserves a childhood. Stability. A place where no one’s hunting him. A place to be taught, to be safe.”

Silence fell between them again. Smoke curled and dissolved into the night air. At some point, without either of them quite noticing, their arguments stopped being against La Paz and turned into reasons why they should go.

“I’ll escort you there, then.” Sukira let out a humorless laugh. “You didn’t ask, but I think you’ll make a great father figure.”

He flinched inwardly at the word. Elon wondered what being a father actually meant. His own father had hollowed the word out until nothing was left. From the moment his visions awakened, he’d stopped being a child and become a tool. His father had treated him like a chess piece, useful only for flashes of the future that could twist a negotiation or secure an alliance.

He remembered nights when they dragged him half-asleep to the council table, forcing him to speak about things he didn’t understand while men twice his age weighed his words like weapons. He thought of his mother—so warm, and yet powerless to stop any of it—the way she would only hold him afterward, unable to interfere with what was happening.

Now he looked at Risha through the glass of the door and felt that same threat circling. The boy’s power was undeniable. La Paz wouldn’t see him as a child; they’d see him as a resource, just like his own father had once seen him. Maybe Elon was imagining shadows where there were none. Maybe Risha’s path would be different. But Elon wasn’t willing to gamble on that. He would train him, guide him, protect him from the greedy hands that would try to use him for their “greater” purposes. And if Sukira was right—if such a thing was even possible—maybe by protecting Risha, he could become a good father figure.

“Stop making fun of me.” His tone was flat.

“You’re so funny. I’m not making fun of you. Not even a little. You’re the one who’s been bothering me all night.” She tugged at his sleeve as she opened the door connecting the balcony back to the boy’s room.

Elon gave Risha one last look. A minute passed before he realized Sukira was already gone. He stayed behind and sank into the couch in the corner of the room.

Just in case Risha woke up in the middle of the night and reached for him, or at least he wished.

♥︎