The butler led me to the room which was probably the guest room. Once I settled in I sat on the chair across the hearth.
The fire crackled awkwardly in the massive stone hearth, throwing weird, twitchy shadows across the room. I perched on the edge of a chair that probably cost more than my one of my luxurious estate, trying very hard not to look like I was planning a murder. Or, you know, trying to solve one.
The Vampire Prince lounged into the room like he owned the air I was breathing. Which, technically, he did. Along with the castle and probably the valley.
He swirled his 'wine' lazily, his crimson eyes locked onto me like I was tonight's entertainment. Or dinner. Hard to tell.
"You are remarkably calm," he said, voice smooth enough to slip under doors.
"Most newcomers... are not."
I smiled sweetly, folding my hands in my lap. "I've been told I'm too stupid to be scared," I said brightly.
One eyebrow arched. Perfect. Let him underestimate me. I could play harmless. I could win Academy Awards for playing harmless.
"Fear keeps one alive," he said, studying me like he could smell the lies steaming off my skin. "You would do well to remember that."
The fire popped loudly — like it was agreeing with him — and I flinched but I covered it by adjusting my skirt and pretending I wasn't sweating through my spine.
"Tell me," he purred, setting down his glass, "Why would a woman like you easily agree to move in with me?"
I almost laughed. Instead, I shrugged and said, "Curiosity. Boredom. Or maybe I just have really bad taste in vacations."
For a second — just a second — his mouth twitched, like he might actually be fighting a laugh.
Small victories.
He leaned forward, slow and deliberate. "Curiosity gets the cat killed."
I blinked innocently. "Good thing I'm more of a rat then."
The moment stretched as tight as a tripwire.
And then — the faintest smile tugged at his mouth. Not kind. Definitely amused.
Great. I was funny enough to live for another five minutes. Maybe.
He stood, the shadows clinging to him like he'd personally invented them.
"Enjoy your evening," he said, in the exact tone someone might say, "Enjoy being haunted."
The door shut behind him with a heavy, meaningful thud.
I let out a breath so fast I almost coughed.
Then I leaned back in the chair, staring up at the dark, cracked ceiling.
"Good job," I muttered to myself. "You lied to a vampire prince without dying. Only, what, a hundred more lies to go?"
Piece of cake.
Probably poisoned cake, but still.
I was just starting to think maybe I'd pulled it off — survived one whole conversation with a vampire prince without getting incinerated.
Minutes after the prince left, I was still sitting there, trying to figure out how to breathe without looking suspicious, when a knock came.
Before I could answer, the door creaked open and in walked the butler. Same guy who had taken my bag earlier. He looked like he ironed his spine every morning for fun.
"Dinner is served, madam," he said, voice sharp enough to file knives.
I stood, brushing imaginary dust off my skirt, and gave him my brightest, most irritating smile. "Wonderful. I was beginning to worry I'd have to gnaw on the furniture."
He didn't even blink. Tough room.
We made it about ten steps down the hall before he decided polite small talk was overrated.
"You drugged him."
I stumbled a little — just a tiny, graceful trip.
"Sorry, what?" I said, blinking like an innocent schoolgirl. "Did you say I drugged His Royal Batness?"
He gave me a look that could have curdled blood.
"The Prince has never allowed a stranger to remain overnight within these walls. And yet... here you are. Unscathed."
'Unscathed for now, buddy', I thought
I shrugged, adjusting my pace like this wasn't the weirdest conversation I'd had today. "Maybe I'm just really charming."
Pause.
"Or maybe he's running a very confusing Airbnb."
Nothing. Not even a twitch of a smile. God, these people were exhausting.
"You planned this," he said, voice colder than the stones underfoot. "You manipulated him into allowing you to stay, knowing he would be too bound by reputation to rescind the offer without scandal."
I let out a very dignified snort.
"Yeah, that's exactly it. Big evil plan: Step One — survive weird vampire dinner. Step Two — overthrow ancient bloodsucking monarchy by being annoying. Step Three — profit."
The butler stopped so abruptly I almost smacked into him.
"Your intentions," he said slowly, "are not as hidden as you believe."
I smiled sweetly, because at this point, sarcasm was the only thing keeping me upright.
"You're right. I'm hiding something." I leaned in like I was about to confess state secrets.
"A deep, crippling fear of bland food. So, fingers crossed your chef can season a steak."
I could feel the butler's soul physically leave his body.
We reached the dining hall — a fancy table set for two, some oppressive candlelight. Real subtle. Real normal.
I was still trying to decide whether to bolt or flip the table when the prince himself reappeared like a bad idea you can't delete.
"Good evening," he said, smooth as always. "I trust my staff has been... welcoming."
I laughed under my breath.
"They're practically rolling out the red carpet."
He smiled — the kind of smile that knives make before they cut you.
"I find it curious," he said, circling closer like a shark, "that you would risk your entire reputation — your entire future — to remain here."
His eyes gleamed in the firelight. "Unless, of course, you have some greater ambition."
I crossed my arms.
"Oh, yes, that's exactly it. I'm here to overthrow the ancient blood dynasty with my winning personality."
I narrowed my eyes. "Not everything is a conspiracy. Sometimes people just get... caught."
His smile sharpened.
"Caught... or caught on purpose?"
I wanted to scream. Instead, I smiled sweetly, like I wasn't dying inside.
"If I were half as clever as you seem to think," I said, "I'd be sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere, not fighting off accusations in a haunted castle."
He studied me for a long moment, and for one terrifying second, I thought maybe — maybe — he believed me.
Then he dropped the bomb.
"Very well," he said. "If you are so innocent, I should like to meet your family."
The floor might as well have dropped out from under me.
"What?" I croaked.
He gave a mocking tilt of his head. "If they disowned you unjustly, surely they will be eager to explain themselves."
I laughed — a brittle, awful sound.
"You want to meet the people who threw me to the wolves the second it was convenient?"
I stepped closer, fire pounding in my chest. "Be my guest, prince. Maybe you can be their next PR stunt."
For a second, something shifted in his face — like he hadn't expected the crack to be that deep, that real.
But he didn't back down.
"Soon," he said, voice like a noose tightening.
"Very soon."
I clenched my fists, smiled too wide.
Great.
Absolutely fantastic.
Nothing like dragging up every single thing I'd buried six feet under while trapped in a castle full of monsters.
And dinner hadn't even started yet.
I sat stiffly at the long dining table, trying not to look like someone about to be eaten alive.
The prince sat opposite me, perfectly relaxed, swirling a dark red liquid in his glass. Wine. Hopefully.
Candles burned low around us, casting long, twitchy shadows. The kind you instinctively wanted to sprint away from, screaming.
I grabbed my glass, trying to seem casual, and took a sip.
Dry. Bitter. Definitely not blood.
Small victories.
"You are tense," the prince said, watching me over the rim of his glass.
I gave him a tight smile.
"Gee, I wonder why. Could it be the constant accusations? The death glares? The endless suspicion?"
I leaned back in my chair, tilting it dangerously. "Honestly, I feel so welcome, I might start knitting a 'Home Sweet Castle' sign."
He smirked — real one this time — before setting his glass down with a soft clink.
"Forgive me if I find it difficult to trust a woman who materialized in my life under... compromising circumstances."
I froze for half a second — because compromising barely scratched the surface.
Images flickered in the back of my mind. Of that night when he pulled me into his room and forced himself on me. And I couldn't resist responding shortly afterwards.
The memory of his breath against my neck when he hissed, " I need you."
Not exactly your typical meet-cute.
I swallowed hard, shoving the memory down.
"Look," I said, voice low, "I don't care if you think I drugged you, hexed you, or seduced you with my dazzling lack of social skills."
I jabbed my fork into the roast on my plate. "I'm not your enemy."
He cocked his head slightly, studying me like he was trying to see under my skin.
"Not yet," he murmured.
I rolled my eyes so hard I practically saw my own brain.
"Would it kill you to give me the benefit of the doubt?"
He smiled slowly.
"I have lived long enough to know doubt is often safer than trust."
"Wow," I said. "Inspirational. Truly. You should embroider that on a pillow."
A ghost of a laugh — real, this time — escaped him.
Barely. But it was there.
The butler swept into the room just then, placing another covered dish in front of me like he was dropping off a live grenade. He glanced at me once — sharp, suspicious — then disappeared again without a word.
The prince watched the exchange, steepling his fingers under his chin.
"Even my staff sense your duplicity," he said lightly.
I snorted. "Your staff thinks anyone with a pulse is a security risk."
I stabbed a green bean with unnecessary violence. "No offense, but you guys aren't exactly a welcoming committee."
His lips quirked.
"You are not here to be welcomed," he said softly. "You are here because I have not yet decided whether you are an enemy to eliminate... or an ally to cultivate."
Charming.
I set down my fork and met his eyes — steady, unflinching.
"Well, Your Highness," I said sweetly, "good luck figuring it out. Just don't take too long. I'd hate to overstay my welcome."
Another flicker of something passed over his face — respect? amusement? bloodlust? Honestly, who could tell with vampires.
He raised his glass in a mock toast.
"To patience," he said.
I clinked my glass against his, deadpan.
"To survival," I muttered under my breath.
We drank. The candles guttered. Somewhere, deep in the castle, a clock struck the hour — a slow, ominous toll.
And in that moment, I realized something cold and certain:
This wasn't just a dinner.
This was a game.
And the prize was staying alive long enough to find out what happened to my mother.