Chapter 200: The Day Of Reckoning
[Music recommendation: The Beginning of the End - Sad & Emotional (By Koji)]
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That night, rest was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Each of them kept themselves occupied in planning, preparing, and sharpening their resolve for the storm that would strike with the coming dawn. And when the stars finally began to fade into the pale glow of morning, the wheels of destiny continued their relentless march forward.
For today was the day everything would change.
Across the city, anticipation stirred like a rising tide. The buzz surrounding Crown Prince Valen Kaine’s grand birthday ball echoed through every street, every corridor, and even more intensely within the palace walls. As the first rays of dawn touched the kingdom, guests from neighbouring kingdoms began to arrive, greeted by palace officials and escorted to their designated suites, where they would stay for the duration of the celebrations.
While the oblivious guests took pride in being invited to the prestigious occasion, stroking their inflated egos for the privilege of being highborn. But the ones inside the palace, after a restless night, wore entirely different expressions. Each stood by their respective windows, silently watching the endless stream of arrivals.
The vicious queen sipped her tea with a cold smirk, pulling at her painted lips. The unfolding chaos outside her window was nothing but music to her ears, every detail falling perfectly into place, exactly as she had orchestrated.
And her son...The crown prince stood in his chambers like a beast straining against its cage. Madness gleamed in his pale eyes, as hunger twisted beneath his skin. He was ravenous, after all, today was the day he would finally claim the one thing he believed the world owed him.
Today, he intended to take her.
Far from their rooms, Eve continued to sit by the windowsill. Her calm, vivid blue eyes held an innumerable array of emotions: sadness, longing, emptiness, anger, and the undying fire of determination. Determination to carry out what she had planned. As the sun slowly began to rise, its soft rays reflected in her eyes as if reminding her of her purpose.
Today would be the day that could either make or break her completely, and she had no intention to fail. She mustn’t fail...she couldn’t. Because if she did, if she lost the man she loved, she wasn’t sure what she would do to this cruel, dark world.
Down in the dungeon, where there were no windows to tell whether it was morning or night, the five prisoners sat in silence, determination blazing in each of their eyes. Edward and Seira lacked the heightened hearing to catch distant sounds, but the same could not be said for the three vampires, who could clearly pick up the murmurs of passing staff speaking about the arrival of foreign guests at the palace, marking the beginning of the day of reckoning.
Each of them was trapped in their own thoughts, and before they knew it, the hours slipped by, bringing them ever closer to the long-awaited evening.
But the same could not be said for one lone soul, drifting in a world without dawn. His senses lay drowned in a suffocating darkness, where time had no shape and pain was his only companion. He was tired, so unbearably tired of the endless war waged within him, where darkness clashed against fragile threads of golden light that flickered only to be swallowed again. His night was only filled with excruciating pain, each episode accompanied by the faint echo of a voice calling out to him.
He remained oblivious to the outside, oblivious to the decoration in the castle, oblivious to his own people rotting in the dungeon, or desperately plotting to save him. And lastly...oblivious to the unaware that the woman who owned his heart had leapt willingly into a raging inferno just to save him, to pull him from the depths of hell...even though the outcome was far from certain.
He remained collapsed on the cold floor like a dead man, drenched in sweat and blood, his eyes dark and vacant as he heaved painfully for air. He did not move or could not move, as if trapped in that hollow shell of himself. Outside his chamber, there were heavy guards stationed at the far end of the wing, preventing anyone from entering except the queen herself or Jareld under her command.
Ever since that golden thread had brushed against him the previous evening, something had shifted inside him, something impossibly small yet impossibly persistent. Even in his empty state, he felt...something. A faint, foreign tug, as though he were forgetting something vital. As though he would regret it deeply if he didn’t reach for it. But beyond that fragile spark, everything else remained the same: darkness, silence, and emptiness.
He had no thoughts or feelings beyond that faint tug, followed by nothing but an overwhelming void. It felt as though he were sinking once more into the darkest depths of the ocean, where no light could reach him and no one would ever find him again. Ivan felt tired, bone-deep tired. His body was haggard, his spirit worn thin, and he wondered if perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible to let the darkness swallow him completely. At least then he could escape the relentless, excruciating pain that had clawed at him throughout the night.
Yes...maybe he should just give in a little more. Maybe, if he let go, he could finally rest.
It was as if his mind itself were coaxing him....urging him to accept this new limbo he was trapped in.
Slowly, he sank deeper and deeper into the darkness that wrapped around his body like a suffocating shroud, pulsing through his veins. The pain he had been drowning in began to lighten and started to fade bit by bit, the more he surrendered to it. His eyes grew hollow, empty of life, while his fangs extended; they were no longer the elegant fangs of a vampire but the feral ones of a beast. His veins darkened and writhed beneath his skin as the darkness tightened its grip on him. The air in the chamber had become so thick and oppressive that anyone who stepped inside would have choked on it.
’This...is...it,’ a faint thought formed in the crumbling remnants of his consciousness.
And just as he felt himself slipping completely, a soft golden wisp cut through the oppressive gloom. It drifted into the room, curling gently around his hand that was marred with darkened veins.
Then he heard it again.
"No..."
A faint voice echoed inside his mind, jolting him out of the abyss he was so close to surrendering to.
"Ugh..." A guttural, agonised sound tore from his lips as the excruciating pain surged back with brutal force, making Ivan curl in on himself on the cold floor. His fingers clawed desperately at his chest, as if ripping it open would somehow make the torment stop.
Just then, he heard the voice again calling to him, "Come...I have been waiting for you..."
Ivan’s darkened eyes snapped open as he panted, drenched in sweat. He saw the golden thread wrapped around his hand once more, and for the first time, his shadow-clouded vision began to part ever so slightly, allowing him to glimpse the blurred outline of his surroundings.
But before the picture could fully sharpen, the pain struck him hard as the darkness inside him lashed violently, fighting to reclaim control.
Ivan continued to groan in pain when a portrait in the room began to shimmer faintly. The portrait belonged to none other than the first king of Dartmouth, King Zevran Kaine.
.....
Meanwhile, the day passed uneventfully for Eve, who was not disturbed by either the queen or Valen, likely because they were occupied receiving the important delegates arriving at the palace for the ball. Lunch had been served to her in her room, but it remained untouched as she didn’t have the stomach to keep anything down.
Shortly after, palace maids were sent to her chamber to begin preparing her for the ball. They fussed over every detail, but Eve was in no mood to cooperate in this farce or offer any input. Still, she endured it...’just a little longer, she kept reminding herself.
They had adorned her in a beautiful ice-blue gown that looked as though it had been woven from moonlight itself. The one-shouldered bodice wrapped delicately across her figure, embellished with soft, floral appliques that bloomed along her waist.
Layers of weightless, translucent fabric cascaded down in a flowing high-low skirt, the back trailing like a shimmering river. Tiny star-like accents glimmered across the gown, making her look like an ice queen herself. They made her wear a beautiful diamond choker along with drop earrings. They styled her hair into a beautiful twisted low bun, and the maids who were dressing her couldn’t keep their eyes off her, Evelyn form.
"You look so beautiful, Your Highness." One of the maids couldn’t hold back her admiration and complimented her, with the others nodding eagerly in agreement.
Evelyn looked at her reflection in the mirror, all dolled up and flawless, but none of it meant anything to her. Her eyes remained cold and empty. Still, she managed to give the maid a small, polite smile before turning to gaze out the window.
She then asked calmly, "Have you done the task I requested of you?"
"Y-yes, Your Highness. His Highness has accepted your invitation. He will be here before the ball begins," the maid eagerly replied.
Eve gave her a small nod and returned her attention to the window until a knock pulled her out of her thoughts. The maid hurried to check, and a guard stepped in to announce, "Her Majesty is here."
