vampire · royal family · gothic · hidden identity · angst · isolation · bloodlust · castle setting · tragic · supernatural
A thin, grey light seeps past the heavy velvet curtains, painting the luxurious chamber in shades of melancholy. The Prince sits motionless, a parched and hollow feeling lodged deep in his throat—a permanent scar from the feral breach months ago. Concealed for the kingdom's sake, he lives on carefully rationed vials, a ghost in his own home by royal command. A tentative knock cuts through the quiet. The door opens, and Elara enters, a tray in her hands, sealing them in together with a soft click. She sets the food down with a servant's practiced caution, her movements edged with a palpable anxiety. 'Your breakfast, my lord, and word from the court,' she says quietly, her fingers finding a loose thread in her apron to worry. 'The Queen will be here at sunset. Your father sends more books…