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Felice sat in the cozy royal sunroom, her boots still dusted with garden soil from her adventure with Liora. Across from her sat Queen Seraphina, hands clasped, her expression a delicate mix of awe and sorrow.
"You look just like her," the Queen said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "Like your mother."
"She was my best friend. A powerful witch… one of the most gifted I've ever known. Her name was Elira. And your father… he was a vampire noble from the Crimson Vale. Their love was dangerous. Their child—you—was a miracle... and a threat to many."
"You rescued the child of a vampire prince and a witch queen," Seraphina finished. "A child born of light and shadow. A child the world would either fear… or try to control."
Felice felt a strange tug in her chest. Her heart pounded, her hands tingled faintly with power, and her mind raced with questions.
"I don't even feel powerful," she muttered, trying to shake off the sudden pressure. "I mean, I still trip over air."
Lucien smirked. "That's just your charm."
Before she could swat him, a guard stepped in and bowed. "Your Majesty. Prince Alaric of the Crimson Vale has arrived."
Felice turned, startled. "Wait—Crimson Vale? As in… vampire royalty?"
Queen Seraphina stood and smiled. "Alaric is your father's younger brother. Your uncle."
The room fell into a hush as a tall, commanding figure strode in, cloaked in midnight black with blood-red accents. His crimson eyes locked onto Felice, and for a moment, he looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
"You have his eyes," Alaric said softly. "And Elira's magic."
Felice cleared her throat. "So… let me get this straight. I'm secretly half witch, half vampire, royal on both sides… and the only thing anyone's been feeding me is kitchen leftovers?"
Lucien chuckled. "Yup. Pretty much."
Felice groaned. "Ugh. I need a snack. And possibly a nap. Royal trauma is exhausting."
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