Chapter 7

Emaline's tears flowed freely, not only in the waking world but also in the depths of her dreams. Her weeping was intense and unrelenting, a reflection of the deep emotions that stirred within her.

As she stirred from her slumber, a sense of unease washed over her. Something was amiss. She reached out for her mother's comforting presence, but to her dismay, she found nothing. The absence of her mother's familiar aura left her feeling disoriented and vulnerable.

"Mom?" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty halls of the house. Emaline found herself in an unfamiliar place, the floor beneath her sending shivers through her body with its icy chill. A pungent odor wafted up from her surroundings, assaulting her senses and leaving her feeling uneasy.

Emaline's physical state was far from optimal, with her body feeling weak and unsteady. She refrained from sitting down, as the mere thought of it made her nauseous. The woman instinctively reached up to her forehead, feeling a warm liquid trickle down her skin.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed. She had absolute confidence that the crimson fluid in front of her was indeed her blood despite the lack of visual evidence.

"What exactly did these monsters do to me?" She posed the question to herself in a hushed tone.

Emaline wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the cold breeze swept through the air.

The weight of her circumstances had eroded her earlier courage. Emaline was acutely aware of her solitude, regardless of the location the monsters had chosen to confine her.

Emaline embraced herself, convinced that it was all a mere figment of her imagination upon awakening. 'I hope this is all a nightmare.' She pondered silently within her own mind.

Tears streamed down the girl's face; her sobs were stifled as she tried to keep her emotions in check. Her mind could not be swayed when it came to her father. The woman clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and whispered a prayer to the heavens. She fervently hoped that if the claims of her father's demise were indeed true, some kind soul would stumble upon his remains and give him a proper burial.

Emaline was unable to mourn her father due to the events that had transpired. It was only now, in this solitary place, that she found herself with the time and space to properly grieve.

"I am truly the unluckiest person in the world." She whispered to herself, "Blind and foolish, I even dared to insult my own family." The tears continued to flow unabated, a never-ending stream of salty droplets that refused to be stemmed.

Emaline was fortunate that the weather seemed to be in her favor. The atmosphere outside was shrouded in a thick fog, casting a somber and eerie ambiance even during the early hours of the day.

As he made his way back to the palace, the king's countenance was shrouded in an air of darkness. He embarked on a journey spanning several hundred miles, driven by an unrelenting desire to find his destined beloved.

Alas, his quest proved futile, as he was met with disappointment upon his return home. In a cruel twist of fate, he found himself abruptly cast out of her dream, leaving him with a heavy heart and broken hopes.

Who would dare inflict harm upon his beloved and even her family? With a stoic expression, the man strode into the vast expanse of land where his magnificent palace stood.

Since the ascent of the vampires, this towering edifice has claimed the title of the world's tallest structure. Lacking familiarity with the intricate layout of the edifice, one would inevitably find oneself disoriented and unable to navigate its corridors.

The King abruptly stopped in his tracks, his senses immediately captivated by the alluring scent of the most exquisite and savory blood.

The sensation caused him to grit his teeth and salivate uncontrollably. The dormant undead within him longed to rise to the surface. Seldom does one possess such a unique blood type.

The king appeared to be a colossal beast. Drool dripped from its gaping maw as it hurtled forward with the speed of a bullet train.

With lightning speed, he darted towards the palace, his heart racing with anticipation. The mere thought of finally tasting the blood he had been seeking for so long sent shivers down his spine.

However, this time it appeared that he was moving even more quickly than before, as though under the influence of an unnatural force. In no time at all, he had arrived at the palace gates, ready to confront the owner of the precious elixir that had been haunting his dreams.

As he inhales deeply, a faint yet unmistakable scent of blood wafts into his nostrils, triggering a sense of recognition deep within him. Before the grand entrance of his castle, a retinue of servants stood in eager anticipation of his arrival. All present, with particular emphasis on the six noble vampires, were bowing their heads in unison.

As he returned, the courtiers bowed and addressed him with utmost respect: "Welcome back, your majesty." However, he remained silent and instead gazed intently at the grandeur of the palace before him. The scent of blood beckoned to him.

"Whose blood is it?" He asked, his teeth clenched.

The moment the scent of blood reached his nostrils, an insatiable urge to sink his teeth into flesh and drink deeply overtook him.

The king was consumed by an insatiable yearning to extract the very essence of life from whomever possessed such alluring blood.

"Your Majesty, it's a virgin. She's already arrived in the dungeon, eager to serve you. The bloodthirsty vampires, who were on the verge of indulging in your grandiose banquet, have been successfully foiled." The regal king gazed upon the vampires adorning the harp. Cromwell Kohler, the nobleman, spoke. The monarch arched a regal eyebrow.

The valiant vampires had been entrusted with a noble mission: to aid the King in his quest to find his beloved. As a gesture of gratitude towards the ruler, they brought forth an offering. He recognizes the names bestowed upon them.

Cromwell stood in the leftmost position, with his cherished Pia Katharina by his side. Next to them was Sophia Isabel Sandrino, who held a special place in Valus's heart. The Mistlight brothers, Markus and Norin, stood in attendance.

With a curt nod, the king turned on his heel and strode purposefully towards the dungeon, his mind already occupied with weightier matters. He did not deign to spare them another moment of his time, for he had more pressing concerns to attend to.

The vampires, abandoned by their sovereign, exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison. They harbored no doubt that the King would partake of the woman's life force and that such a sacrifice would satiate his desires.

Horacio stood patiently at the entrance to the dungeon, his eyes fixed on the heavy wooden door. He even lowered his head in a respectful gesture towards the king.

"Your highness, your meal has been prepared and awaits your indulgence. Would you rather eat here or in the drawing room?" With a solemn gesture, Horacio lowered his head and posed his inquiry. The monarch gazed upon it with a stoic countenance, revealing no hint of feeling.

With a temperament as fiery as the sun, the King has taken to severing the heads of those who serve him directly.

Within the confines of this grand palace, there exist a multitude of human beings, all of whom are dutifully serving the King in their respective capacities. Among them, there is one individual who holds a particularly unique role, serving as the king's direct source of blood.

With a firm clench of his teeth, he held his ground. "I'm not interested in hearing your voice, Horacio." The embers of fury are consuming me at this very moment. Everyone should get out of my way." An icy spout escaped the king's lips. At that precise moment, the butler lowered his head once more in a gesture of deference.

"I'm sorry you had such a difficult night, my king," Horacio said, apologizing for his behavior. The regal monarch emitted a disdainful snort at the object in question before gesturing imperiously for it to convey him to his repast.

Ever since yesterday, his mood has been foul. The sourness of his disposition was further intensified by the events that transpired in his beloved's dream.

His jaw hung slack as he gazed upon his partner, his emotions leaking out before him. As he stepped onto the cold, hard floor of the prison, he was struck with a sense of awe and disbelief. A feeling stirred within his chest, warning him that the scene unfolding before him was not one he would find pleasing.

"My liege?" As Horacio came to a halt, he called out to him. The behavior of their king left even those who guarded the prisoners in this

dungeon astonished.

They observed his sudden nervousness, which only served to heighten their astonishment. It became apparent that the king was lost in thought, his expression shifting as if a realization had dawned upon him. The face of the King turned solemn. Unlike the divine visage commonly attributed to him,

Without hesitation, he acted upon his intuition. The scent that wafted through the air was all too familiar to him, including the metallic tang of blood. The king swiftly comprehended the predicament before him.

With a contortion of his features, his countenance transformed into that of a fearsome creature, and his eyes fixed unwaveringly upon Horacio. "Where did they take her?" With a sudden change in demeanor, his majesty hissed at his aid, causing the latter to flinch.

With a sudden burst of rage, the King seized Horacio by the collar and forcefully thrust him against the wall. "Did any of you ever do anything to her?" Once more, the King repeated his words, this time with a menacing snarl.

The vampires guarding the prison dropped to their knees in a show of deference to their sovereign, indicating their willingness to submit and not challenge his authority.

Horacio stammered in response to the king's accusations, his confusion palpable. "I don't understand, your majesty," he managed to say, his voice trembling with fear.

The king's anger was directed squarely at him, and Horacio felt the weight of it bearing down on him. The weight of the king's power threatened to crush his back, despite his own formidable abilities. To turn that power against the king was an act of rebellion and sin.

"The woman whom those f*ckers delivered" He gazed at her with a look of concern etched on his face.

"What have they done to her?" he asked, his voice heavy with worry.

Once more, he bellowed. His voice reverberated through the halls of the palace, filling every corner with its resounding presence. The noble vampires, on the verge of departing, abruptly came to a standstill.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I fail to comprehend the reason behind your distress. The nobles have presented before you an unconscious lady. Her mother is present as well," Horacio responded to his king, gesturing towards one of the cells. The king detected a familiar yet subtle scent emanating from the woman within.

“F*ck! Get the woman out of there and take her to the doctor! I'll take care of everyone else afterwards! That's the mother of my beloved!"

The sound of his voice reverberated through the grand halls of the palace, striking fear into the hearts of all who heard it.

The nobles who had brought the woman and her mother were particularly shaken by the ominous tone that emanated from the king's lips. He was certain of it.

As the declaration of their sovereign echoed through the space, a collective gasp escaped the lips of some of the vampires present. He released Horacio from his grasp and sprinted towards the location of his beloved.

The nobles stood frozen as they heard what their king had declared, their throats constricting with fear as they surveyed the scene before them. The nobles comprehended that despite their ignorance of the woman's identity as their sovereign's cherished companion, culpability rested upon their shoulders.

The king, with a wild look in his eyes, proceeded to scrutinize each and every cell, giving the impression of a man unhinged. With a quickening of his pulse, his bloodshot eyes scanned the area in a desperate search for his beloved. After a century of being undead, his heart beat solely for his beloved.

As soon as he caught wind of her whereabouts, his entire being yearned for the comfort of her embrace. He gazed at their undeniable connection, feeling an intense longing to embrace her, caress her lips, and unite with her in a passionate embrace.

With a hiss, the King shattered the cell door and dropped to his knees before his beloved.

For centuries, the entire system of the King had yearned for her. Gone was the void that once consumed him, replaced by a sense of wholeness that filled the king's being as he gazed upon her.