Aria's fingers trembled as she set her phone on the table, her gaze lingering on the soft glow of the screen as though it might provide some answers of its own. The entire room was blanketed in a tense silence. David stood close, his piercing gaze locked on her with a focus that made her heart race in both terror and awe.
"You really think I'm not human?" she whispered, the words escaping her lips like a confession.
David's expression softened just slightly. "There's more to you than you know, Aria. Powers like yours... they don't manifest without reason." He paused, his words sinking into the silence. "Could your nanny have been right? About you being adopted?"
A chill ran down her spine. "No," she murmured. "I wasn't adopted. I have the hospital photos to prove it."
"Then, what if I meet your parents?" David's voice was casual, yet there was a challenge in his tone. She knew he wouldn't drop it.
Aria's breath hitched as her mind raced with memories of strained family gatherings, her parents' distant gazes, the coldness that hung between them like a wall. "They won't care," she said, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "I'm barely more than a ghost to them. Once they had my siblings, they didn't even try to hide it—they didn't want me."
David's expression hardened, but then he spoke with surprising softness. "Then let me give them a reason to care. Tell them you want to introduce your fiancé."
Aria's mouth dropped open. "You... you can't be serious."
He looked at her, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Tell them we're engaged. It's one thing they can't ignore."
The thought of introducing David as her fiancé to her parents sent her heart into overdrive. She knew she couldn't turn back now; David's eyes were too intense, too filled with resolve. Slowly, she picked up her phone, her fingers hesitant as they dialed her mother's number.
The phone rang, and she took a steadying breath. Then, a voice on the other end—a voice she hadn't heard in months—answered, laced with the thinly veiled irritation she knew all too well.
"Aria? What is it? Do you need money again?"
The words sliced through her, and she felt a pang of humiliation as she glanced at David. He didn't look away, his face unreadable, yet his jaw clenched as her mother's words echoed in the room.
"No," she replied, her voice small yet steady. "I'm calling to tell you that I'm getting married. I wanted you to meet my fiancé."
A pause. The line crackled with a muffled whisper, her parents likely discussing her 'news' in hushed tones. David's gaze sharpened as he listened, his vampire senses undoubtedly picking up the whole conversation even if she couldn't.
Then, her father's gruff voice cut through. "How much do you need for the wedding?"
David's hand twitched, and Aria barely caught a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he took the phone from her, pressing it firmly to his ear.
"Mr. Dumont," he began, his voice steady, authoritative. "This is David Bellini, your daughter's fiancé and the owner of Bellini Creations. I assure you we're not in need of your money, sir. The wedding is planned; I'm calling simply to request your blessing."
The line went silent. Even Aria, standing right next to him, could feel the raw power David emanated as he spoke. It was almost... frightening.
"Well," her father finally replied, clearly unsettled, "we'll see if we can make it."
A heartbeat passed, and then the line disconnected. David lowered the phone, his face expressionless. But when he looked at her, she saw the pain there—pain on her behalf, a reflection of all the hurt she'd tried so hard to hide.
"They'll come," he murmured, his hand grazing hers. "You don't deserve to face them alone."
Aria's chest tightened, and she took a step back, reeling from the turn of events. "They'll hate me even more when they find out this isn't real," she whispered, a touch of desperation in her voice.
David's eyes darkened. "Who said it isn't?"
Her heart skipped a beat as his words lingered in the air, thick with a meaning she wasn't sure she could comprehend. "You can't be serious, David. You can't really mean..."
He raised his hand, silencing her. She watched, bewildered, as he picked up his own phone and dialed swiftly.
"Danny," he spoke, his tone abruptly formal, "I need a favor." There was a brief pause, a muffled voice on the other end.
"I'm getting married," he announced, his voice unyielding, leaving no room for doubt. "I'm marrying a human. I want everything arranged for next Tuesday at the Essex house."
A strangled cry of shock came from the other end of the line, but David barely reacted, glancing at her with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Oh, and one more thing. I'll need your help to formalize the rejection by proxy."
Aria watched, wide-eyed, as he rattled off instructions. A formal rejection by proxy, his retirement, the arrangement of wedding details she'd never dreamed of. Each command he issued left her with a mixture of awe, dread, and a faint, unsteady sense of thrill.
He ended the call and turned to her, that same infuriatingly calm look on his face, as if he hadn't just turned her entire world upside down.
"Well, my dear fiancée," he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, "anything else you'd like to tell me before our wedding day?"
Aria opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss. Her mind was spinning, racing over every wild detail, every impossible twist. "But... I mean... you haven't even asked me," she managed.
David's smile softened, and he stepped closer, his fingers brushing hers. "I didn't need to," he murmured, his voice as smooth as velvet. "The answer was already there."
A blush crept over her cheeks, and she glanced away, knowing he could probably hear the frantic pounding of her heart. "You're insane," she whispered, shaking her head. "I'm not some princess or... or a bride. I'm a nobody. A girl you found on the verge of ruin."
He lifted her chin with a gentle finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You're far more than that, Aria. And I don't need magic to know it."
She let out a shaky breath, feeling his words settle deep inside her, stirring up emotions she hadn't dared to feel in years. "So... what's the plan now?"
David took her hand, leading her toward the door. "The plan, Aria," he said, his voice low and warm, "is for you and me to walk into that house together. To show them exactly who you are and the strength you've carried all this time."
As he spoke, his eyes gleamed with a fierce protectiveness, a determination she could feel echoing in her bones. And in that moment, with David's hand in hers, she believed—believed, if only for a second—that maybe, just maybe, she could be everything he saw in her.
Year 1783 CE, Kingdom of Noravia
The great hall was dimly lit, flickering torches casting golden light over cold stone and dark shadows. A faint echo of footsteps broke the silence, and Belshazzar, masked in gold and cloaked in midnight blue, entered. The ornate golden mask hid his expression, but his stature and the weight in his steps revealed his weariness as he glanced around the familiar room.
A soft, sharp voice cut through the quiet. "What brings you back to Noravia, Belshazzar?"
Belshazzar turned to see a small figure standing in the shadows, half-hidden but unmistakable—the young prince, Samuel, his face obscured by a delicate silver mask that gleamed under the torchlight.
"I had to meet my brother at some point, didn't I?" Belshazzar replied, his voice calm and measured.
"You're eight years late," Samuel said, stepping forward. His voice, though youthful, held an edge of reproach. "Mother is about to bear her thirteenth child, you know."
Belshazzar gave a faint chuckle, though it was strained. "Well, I was... occupied when I received the news of your birth, Sammy."
Samuel raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, a glint of mischievous knowledge in his gaze. "Yes, I've heard. Davina told me you were busy fighting wars in a country that doesn't even exist."
Belshazzar stilled. "Who taught you to speak of politics like that?" he asked, eyeing his younger brother with newfound caution.
"That would be me," came a voice from behind, smooth and familiar.
Belshazzar turned to see another masked figure—a man cloaked in deep silver, his mask adorned with intricate gold filigree. Prince Bernini, his younger brother by mere years, but with a bearing that spoke of a lifetime of duty and knowledge. The brothers shared a moment of silence, their eyes meeting, old memories flooding the space between them.
"When you were his age, I remember playing hide-and-seek with you through these very halls," Belshazzar mused, a flicker of nostalgia in his voice.
Bernini gave a short, rueful laugh, glancing around the massive, imposing chamber. "I still don't know how you managed it. I feel buried under responsibilities now, even with eight adult brothers at my side and a sister serving as the Royal Priestess."
"Priorities, Bernini," Belshazzar said softly, almost as if speaking to his younger self.
Bernini gave a sardonic smile. "So, tell me, brother. Are you here because the colonies have won their independence, or because you've come to claim something else entirely?"
Belshazzar's gaze grew shadowed. "I came because the council sent me a royal summons. You should know—you're part of it."
Bernini's mask glinted as he tilted his head, his voice dropping lower. "I actually raised an objection to that summons." He glanced toward the young prince, Samuel, who seemed eager to catch every word. "After all, you taught me that destiny cannot be forced. And yet, here we are, with everyone around us trying to meddle in matters they don't understand. It's tempting, though, isn't it, Belshazzar? To pretend you've found her, just to silence them?"
The words struck a nerve, and Belshazzar felt a pang somewhere deep within. "I can't pretend with matters of the heart. To use someone that way would be... monstrous."
A silence settled between them, heavy with things unsaid. At last, Bernini looked away, his discomfort plain, and Belshazzar sensed an unspoken question hovering on his brother's lips.
"What is it?" Belshazzar asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Hypothetically..." Bernini began, his tone strained, "if she were to be a royal consort, just for appearances. Would that be so terrible?"
Belshazzar's face hardened behind the mask, his thoughts darkening as he remembered a woman from long ago—a friend turned enemy, whose hunger for power had twisted their fates. "A royal consort," he said, his voice rough, "could have spared us this curse, but I can't live a lie." He stared at Bernini, trying to pierce through the mask and the guardedness that lay beneath. "And you, brother? Is that what you want?"
The question struck Bernini, and he looked away, the faintest hint of guilt flickering in his posture. Silence lingered, stretching long and taut. At last, Bernini's voice returned, quieter than before. "There is... someone," he admitted, his words weighted. "A vampire. She knows her place; she doesn't ask for more. But... I enjoy her company."
Belshazzar's gaze narrowed. "Enjoyment is one thing, Bernini. But true love is something else. If the day comes when you find that, you'll understand the difference."
Bernini clenched his jaw, a flash of something rebellious in his eyes. "And what would you know of love, brother?" he countered. "After all these years, after all the women brought before you... you still claim you've never found her."
Belshazzar's lips curved into a bitter smile. "No, I haven't found her. But I know how I'll treat her when I do." His gaze drifted to the flickering light, as if hoping the answer lay somewhere in its depths. "Someday... it could be today, Bernini. Destiny may be closer than we think."
Bernini hesitated, a slight crease of doubt crossing his brow. "And what will you do when that day comes, Belshazzar?"
A long sigh escaped Belshazzar, filled with centuries of loneliness and unspent love. "When that day comes," he murmured, "I will let go of everything—titles, duty, curses. And I'll hold her above all else."
Bernini watched him, a glimmer of understanding softening his features. The young prince Samuel looked between them, his eyes wide and curious, as if sensing the significance of what had passed, though he could not yet understand.
As the silence grew thick again, the sound of distant bells echoed through the stone halls. Belshazzar straightened, feeling the weight of his duty settle back over him, but beneath it now was a faint, flickering hope—one he would carry until the day destiny finally delivered him the one his heart had waited for.
Essex, London, Present Time
David sat across from Aria, his gaze heavy with something deeper than usual. She sensed it before he even spoke, the tension gathering in the air between them.
"What is it that you want to talk about, David?" she asked, trying to read his expression.
A beat of silence stretched, and then he said quietly, "I can't have children."
Aria blinked, feeling her throat tighten. "I don't want children," she replied, almost too quickly.
David shook his head, a sad smile touching his lips. "But I do. A house full of them, in fact. I just… can't."
Aria's heart sank. She'd only said that to make him feel assured, to keep him close. She reached across the table and took his hand. "There are other options, David. We could adopt, or maybe—there are ways."
He looked down, his fingers tightening around hers. "My people would never accept that. Marrying a human already puts me at risk of exile. You may never even meet my family."
A flicker of worry crossed her face. "David... do you already have a wife?"
David let out a short, humorless laugh. "It's not that simple. Normal vampires, they don't have wives or beloveds—not in the way humans do. Most just have… connections, but nothing is required of them." He hesitated, as if weighing each word. "But I'm… different. I was born a vampire, not made. And because of that, I have a soulmate—someone meant for me, out there somewhere. She's the only one I could ever have children with."
Aria's face remained calm, but he sensed her internal storm, the questions and fears swirling beneath the surface. David sighed, a pang of regret filling him as he spoke again.
"My people would understand if I chose to be with you now," he said softly, "but once she enters my life, I won't have a choice. I'll be bound to her."
Aria's gaze drifted, her brow furrowed. Finally, she looked back at him, her voice steady. "When you find her… will you leave me and any children we adopt? Will you just—go?"
David's chest tightened at the thought. "I don't intend to find her," he said firmly. "That's why I'm going back to my country, to perform a ceremony—a rejection by proxy. It's the only way to tell my people I'm giving up on her."
Aria absorbed his words, her eyes distant. "But if you reject her… then she can't have children either. Isn't that unfair? If she's your soulmate, wouldn't she want a family with you?"
A faint, bittersweet smile touched David's face. "She might—if she were like me, a special vampire. But she isn't. I know her species. She'll be a witch."
Aria's expression shifted, a spark of hope lighting her eyes. "Could it… could it be me?" she asked, her voice soft and full of hope. David's heart wrenched at the sound, feeling her longing and his own mix of emotions flood over him.
"Aria," he said gently, "witches don't have inherent powers. They come from a family line with magic, learning spells from the ancient books to draw on their ancestors' abilities. You're different. You don't use spells, you use pure power." He looked at her, his gaze filled with a quiet certainty. "If you're not fully human, then you're a born Aether. I wanted us to be soulmates too, because in so many ways, we are… but we're just not destined for each other."
A tear slipped down Aria's cheek, and then another. The sky outside darkened, clouds gathering fast and thick. David realized with a start that they weren't just any clouds—they were hers. Her heartache had broken her concealment spell, her grief spilling over into the world around her.
"Hey," he murmured, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Let's go get some ice cream, alright? Something to cheer you up."
She looked at him, managing a small, tremulous smile as she nodded, though her eyes shimmered with unspoken sorrow.