In the lavish study, the rich aroma of coffee blended with the scent of ancient ink—and faintly, the tang of blood.
Soft lamplight dappled the desk, casting everything in a dreamy haze. Sista’s black hair spilled like silk under the night sky, and her crimson eyes, reflected in the light, looked even deeper—filled with longing and desire.
A faint pain prickled as a drop of bright red blood beaded at the tip of Su Ling’s finger, only to be gently licked away by the girl’s tongue.
She bit her lip lightly, trying to shield her hand with the other—but at that moment, a cold hand firmly gripped her wrist.
“Don’t move.”
Looking up, she saw Sista gazing at her with those ruby eyes, emotions unreadable. Su Ling swallowed the words she was about to say.
Sista slowly leaned down again, taking Su Ling’s injured pinky into her mouth. A warm sensation spread from Su Ling’s fingertip into her chest, making her catch her breath, heart pounding uncontrollably.
She snuck a glance at Sista, who was quietly lowering her gaze. The room was so still it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.
Su Ling knew Sista acted out of hunger for blood, and yet… seeing the aloof, dignified princess bent over before her—it stirred something unexplainable in her heart.
Sista’s red lips glistened more vividly under the lamplight, like a blooming rose, intoxicating and dangerous. Her tongue slowly withdrew, a silver strand of saliva curling around Su Ling’s finger, shimmering under the light.
“It’s done.”
Having cleaned the blood, Sista released her hand and picked up a handkerchief dipped in clean water, carefully wiping the wound on Su Ling’s finger.
“It’s nothing serious. If it gets inflamed, have Karsanna inform the physician to bring medicine.”
“Princess… thank you…” Su Ling finally gathered the courage to speak.
Sista lifted her head and glanced at her, then gave a slight nod.
Just then, a soft noise came from outside the room. Both girls instantly fell silent.
The midnight palace was like a frozen painting, with even the air around them feeling still. Only the distant chirp of insects and the rustle of wind broke the silence.
The sound was faint, barely audible—yet to Sista, it rang like an alarm. Her gaze, moments ago soft and focused on Su Ling’s hand, sharpened immediately.
Her pupils dilated slightly, as if able to pierce through the walls. Her once-calm expression turned serious and tense.
Su Ling’s heart began to race—she felt instinctively that something ominous was behind that knock.
Her mind raced through possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Her fingers clenched tightly, knuckles turning pale.
She cast a questioning glance at Sista. The other girl gave no reply.
Instead, Sista quickly stood up, scanning the room. Her gaze finally settled beneath a chair. She drew a deep breath.
“You need to go. Now.”
Su Ling froze. She didn’t understand what was happening, but seeing the tension on Sista’s face, she knew it was serious.
She stood up in a panic, like a startled deer, tiptoeing toward the exit. As she slipped out, she unintentionally glanced back—and what she saw stunned her.
The king?!
Inside, watching Su Ling finally leave, Sista sighed in relief.
Moments later, the footsteps grew louder. The door creaked open, and a tall figure entered.
The man wore a dark robe, his stride steady and firm. His face bore an air of dignity and weariness. Though his hair had turned partially gray, his eyes still gleamed with sharp brilliance.
As soon as Steyat stepped inside, his eyes swept the room. When he saw Sista sitting alone at the desk, a flicker of doubt crossed his face.
He frowned slightly. “Sista, why are you still awake at this hour?”
Sista rose and respectfully bowed. “Father, I was handling some matters, and lost track of time.” Her voice was calm and composed, but there was a faint trace of unease in her eyes.
The king nodded, seemingly unbothered by her answer. He walked over and sat by the desk, his eyes again scanning the room as if searching for something.
“There’s no one else here, is there?” Steyat asked in a hoarse voice.
“No. I don’t like distractions while I work. I’ve dismissed the servants.”
Her tone was utterly natural—clearly, she was used to hiding things.
“Good. Set aside your tasks for now. Come sit and talk with me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
They both sat. Sista looked at the king’s tired but solemn face and asked gently, “Father, it’s quite late. What brings you here so suddenly? Is it something important?”
Steyat confirmed once more that the room was empty before slowly speaking, his voice heavy. “Sista, there is something important I must discuss with you. But… I don’t want Clis to know. Not yet.”
Sista’s heart tensed.
She knew well that the relationship between the king and Queen Clis wasn’t as harmonious as it appeared. There was always an undercurrent of power struggles between them.
For the king to visit so late and emphasize secrecy from the queen—it meant this matter was no small affair.
She steadied herself and replied in an even tone, “Father, you have my word. Mother will not know you came here tonight.”
She then poured him a cup of hot tea.
The king accepted the cup, gently blowing on the rising steam but didn’t drink. He stared at the swirling leaves, as if seeking some deep mystery within.
At last, he spoke in a low voice, “Sista… will you always remain loyal to the Kingdom of Ansels?”
Sista was taken aback. She looked up and met his gaze directly, replying with firm conviction, “You have my word, I will always stand by the kingdom.”
The king nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I hope you’ll remember those words.”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.