Chapter 2

Vincent's pupils shrink. He stares hard into my eyes, trying to find any trace of an act. 

But I force down the chill in my heart and give him nothing but pure, unfamiliar confusion.

Once he believes I really have lost my memory, his tense jaw relaxes. A hint of poorly hidden relief flashes in his eyes.

"You just suffered magical backlash and temporarily lost some memories." He puts on a sympathetic yet authoritative face. "I am the master of this estate. Your protector."

"Lord Vincent, so this is where you are."

A sickly sweet voice hisses through the empty corridor like a snake. Camilla, dressed in an overly elaborate lace gown, lifts her skirts and jogs over delicately.

When she is just three steps away, Camilla suddenly gasps. Her toe catches perfectly on the flat altar steps, and she pitches forward.

Vincent's expression drastically changes. Almost on pure instinct, he violently shoves me out of his arms.

Thud.

Caught off guard and stripped of support, I am thrown backward like a ragdoll.

My head slams hard against the rough stone pillar of the altar. Warm blood instantly gushes out, and the blinding pain makes my vision go black.

Vincent has already rushed forward, catching Camilla securely in his arms. 

Hearing the heavy thud behind him, he glances back at my bleeding head. A flicker of guilt crosses his eyes, but it gets quickly replaced by self-righteousness.

"Camilla was cursed by a dark wizard. Her blood can't clot. If she scrapes her skin, it could be fatal." He sounds like he is explaining it to me, but he is really just convincing himself.

Camilla takes the chance to snuggle against Vincent's arm, pressing her cheek to his chest. 

"Why did it take so long to break the bond, my lord?" she whines, but her eyes look past his shoulder, landing provocatively on my bleeding forehead.

"The Duke and I have known each other for nearly a century. Our wedding is in three days, and you simply must come." Camilla shoots me a triumphant smile. "After all, you need to record the eternal moment when Vincent and I exchange our blood vows."

"That's enough. She doesn't need to be there." Vincent frowns and cuts off her gloating, a hint of irritability in his voice.

His words act like a switch. Camilla's face goes deathly pale in an instant. She collapses into his arms in agony, gasping for air. 

"My heart hurts so bad, Vincent. The curse is acting up again. I can't breathe."

"Camilla! Hold on!" Vincent's face shifts dramatically. The panic in his eyes is a hundred times stronger than before. He scoops her up into his arms immediately. 

He turns to look at me where I struggle to stand against the pillar. His voice is ice-cold. 

"Can you make it back to your room by yourself? Your backlash shouldn't be too serious."

He doesn't even wait for my answer. He carries Camilla and sprints out into the night toward the dark carriage.

I stand there in silence. Blood trails down my cheek and drips onto the freezing altar. 

Through the slightly open carved window of the carriage, I get a perfect view of what is happening inside.

Camilla leans into Vincent's chest. Her voice sounds frail, but every word drifts clearly into my ears. 

"To be held by you, Your Grace. Even if I turn to dust right now, I have no regrets."

Vincent gently pulls back the curtain, getting ready to order the driver to move. 

Right at that moment, Camilla lifts her head. She wraps her arms around his neck, and her soft lips brush suggestively against his earlobe. 

Vincent doesn't push her away.

The night wind sweeps across the altar. A biting chill and a tearing pain pierce straight through my heart. 

Ten years of pouring my heart out, only to be rewarded with this sickening display.

The carriage wheels crush the moonlight as they speed off into the distance. 

Silence falls over the surroundings once again.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of gold tears through the night sky. A golden owl, glowing with magical runes, pierces the fog and lands gracefully on the altar. It drops an ancient parchment right into my lap.

I flick off the wax seal with my bloodstained fingers and slowly unroll the parchment. 

On the blank page, majestic and sweeping gold letters slowly appear, shimmering with magic:

"Lady Elara, the Royal Potion Workshop has approved your application. We warmly welcome you to join us and eagerly await your arrival in the Capital in three days!"