Chapter 189 Red Carpet

Chapter 189 Red Carpet


Blanche was relieved to finally set foot on the reception floor of the Tower, which was almost empty at this hour—and, more importantly, quiet.

Several vampires were waiting for them, one of whom clearly did not seem particularly pleased to be there. Nevertheless, she escorted them to one of the elevators leading to the ballroom.

"Naussica, at your service, Your Majesties."

"Naus, it's a pleasure to see you again," Winter exclaimed. "Let me introduce you to Blanche, my granddaughter. Naus is Sebastian's second-in-command of the armies and Matthew's wife, the brown-haired man you saw at my house last time."

Surprised, Blanche looked twice at the blonde vampire who joined them in the elevator.

Dressed in the standard vampire uniform, Naussica embodied the archetype of a creature of the night: sexy, elegant, flawless makeup, leather coat. She was breathtakingly beautiful in a mysterious way. Blonde like a doll, unmistakably from the West, she possessed the charm of someone born into high society and carried herself with an unmistakable air of pride.

The player couldn't help thinking that this was the kind of confidence Blanche herself would have to learn to master as a future queen. In the mirror, she could feel the vampire's disdainful gaze fixed on her.

Blanche studied her aura. She had never seen one so complex: green with jealousy, a touch of pink for excessive vanity, purple for narrow-minded arrogance, and black scattered throughout like patches of darkness, almost diseased, carrying an incomparable amount of pain.

It was the first time Blanche had encountered an aura quite so dark.

Naus was fundamentally evil.

How could someone so horrible possibly be Matt's wife?

For the first time, Blanche considered turning the vampire into a servant, if only so she would suffer less.

She genuinely felt sorry for Argy's godfather.

The elevator doors opened, and Blanche stepped into a room that made her forget everything else.

So large.

So beautiful.

So extravagantly wealthy.

She was completely awestruck.

The vampires' ballroom was indescribable. Enormous, it rose to the equivalent of three floors stacked on top of one another.

The mechanical lift stopped at the top of a magnificent transparent glass staircase descending into the reception hall. It opened onto a balcony overlooking the room, revealing, on the far right, an enclosed area containing restrooms and boudoirs, as well as several private lounges.

Further toward the center, still on the right, stood round tables capable of comfortably seating ten guests each. At the back was a bar and restaurant serving food and drinks. From a distance, Blanche spotted Dean, faithfully stationed behind the counter with his cocktails.

At the center of the room stood an immense fountain made of tiers of porous stone covered in greenery and aquatic plants, seemingly supporting the entire structure. At its heart, a white marble mermaid dove in a graceful swan dive, her fingertips barely touching the water, her heavy rose-tinted marble hair threaded with delicate veins of ruby.

On the left, an orchestra faced a dance floor that was still empty. Further ahead, groups of guests stood chatting, smiling and clearly delighted to see one another again. At the far left, a smoking balcony opened onto an enormous glass window, currently closed but magically opening at irregular intervals.

Crystal chandeliers illuminated the ceiling, revealing a mosaic fresco depicting a story known only to a select few. Braziers mounted along the walls spread a pleasant warmth throughout the room.

The atmosphere inside was gentle and surprisingly peaceful.

Strangely, her ears worked just as they had before: she couldn't hear anything beyond a few meters. It was probably some kind of spell designed to allow conversations to take place beyond the reach of indiscreet ears.

Several guests looked up when they arrived.

The conversation, which had until then flowed continuously and quietly, gradually fragmented as everyone's attention shifted toward the newcomer. Some merely watched her discreetly over the rims of their glasses, while others openly turned around, making no attempt whatsoever to hide their curiosity.

Blanche immediately felt the weight of all that attention.

She drew a deep breath and continued forward, her chin held slightly higher, until she reached the first step.

She didn't know many people here. A few faces were familiar, but the room was mostly filled with strangers dressed in sumptuous outfits, glittering jewelry, and outrageously expensive fabrics.

Then she spotted them.

Erik stood in one corner of the room, recognizable among a thousand despite the crowd. Beside him was his brother, who immediately gave her a warm smile.

Blanche felt something loosen in her chest.

A little farther away, Kysten was leaning against a wall, perfectly at home in this world of luxury. Yet he seemed occupied with something else, his attention divided between his work and Argy.

The young man clearly had no interest whatsoever in the evening's formalities.

The moment he spotted Blanche, his face lit up.

He raised his hand and waved at her with almost childlike enthusiasm.

Blanche had to suppress a laugh.

She waved back discreetly, a smile naturally lighting up her face.

The tension weighing on her shoulders eased slightly.

They were here.

Her anchors.

Her family, in a way.

She then swept her gaze across the room.

Kiyan hadn't arrived yet.

His absence brought a pang of disappointment she would rather not acknowledge.

He was going to miss her entrance.

After the way he'd looked at her only a few minutes earlier, she would have liked to see his expression when he watched her descend those stairs in front of the entire assembly.

But he wasn't there.

Sebastian, on the other hand...

He was very much present.

And he was staring at her.

From the other side of the room, his eyes never left her. He showed neither a smile nor any obvious surprise, but there was something in his gaze that immediately caught Blanche's attention.

She eventually looked away.

Then the orchestra stopped playing.

One note faded into the air.

Then another.

And suddenly, silence descended upon the room.

Complete silence.

The conversations died away one after another, glasses stopped clinking, and even the last remaining whispers disappeared.

Blanche felt every gaze turn toward her.

This time, no one was pretending not to watch.

She was the center of attention.

And she realized that her entrance wasn't simply about a young woman arriving at a gala.

Tonight, she had entered a room where everyone already knew what she represented.

The new heir.

If Winter hadn't changed her status.

And suddenly, she almost regretted that Kiyan wasn't there to go through this moment with her.

Every head turned upward as a vampire stepped toward the balustrade and proclaimed, like a herald:

"Their Majesties, William Winter Drake, King of the Drakions, and his granddaughter, Elizabeth the Fifth, Blanche Drake, Crown Princess."

Blanche drew a deep breath...

...and confidently placed her foot on the first step.