I laughed, the sound sharp and sudden in the silent hall.

"I have nothing to say," I said, leaning back in my chair and meeting his gaze without flinching.

After all, he'd already found me guilty.

Joseph was silent for a moment before finally announcing, "Elizabeth, the clan needs order. Your actions have caused a public outcry. I have no choice but to punish you."

"Punish me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to throw me in the Silverwater dungeons?"

"I'm not that heartless," Joseph sighed, a mask of false sympathy on his face. "But as of this moment, I am officially revoking all your authority within the Nightwood Clan."

"You no longer have the power to contact our allies, open the treasury, or consult any of our ancient texts."

He turned his head to the woman who was smirking in triumph.

"Julia, you will take over these duties," Joseph declared. "You are now responsible for replenishing the spent mana crystals and rare bloods. Conduct a full audit of the accounts."

"As you wish, my Lord Earl," Julia said with a curtsy and a smile.

It hit me then.

This wasn't some spontaneous accusation. This was a coup.

Joseph was jealous of my influence, afraid of the vast resources I controlled. He wanted my allies, my network, my blood stores.

And Julia was just the attack dog he'd sicced on me.

"Of course, Elizabeth," Joseph said, turning back to me, his tone softening as if offering a scrap of mercy. "Once you have repaid everything you've taken, I will restore your position as Chief Advisor. Now, for the stability of the clan, hand over your directory of allies."

So the mask finally slips.

He couldn't wait to get his hands on the network I had built.

I didn't argue. I didn't rage.

I calmly pulled an old, black leather-bound scroll from my sleeve and tossed it onto the obsidian table.

The scroll rolled to a stop by Joseph's hand. Greed flashed in his eyes.

I stood up, smoothed the wrinkles on my gown, and gave him a small smile.

"I hope you can actually persuade them to listen."

With that, I turned without a backward glance and walked out of the hall.

Thirty minutes later, I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of my room, watching the gloomy sky.

A flurry of wings erupted from the main tower.

Thousands of blood-ravens burst from the windows, a black, ominous cloud spreading to every corner of the estate.

The clan's highest form of official notice.

I didn't need to guess what the messages tied to their legs said.

"Chief Advisor found guilty of embezzlement." "Abused her position to steal from the treasury." "Suspended from duties, pending further review."

I could already hear the whispers of the lower-ranking vampires downstairs.

They were gossiping about my "greed," mocking my "fall from grace."

A clatter of footsteps echoed from the hall.

BANG!

My door was kicked open without ceremony.

Julia strode in, flanked by two armed guards, her head held high.

She walked directly to my sofa and sat down, crossing her legs like she owned the place.

"How does it feel, Elizabeth?" Julia asked, admiring her freshly painted red nails, a victor's sneer on her lips. "To be spat on by the entire clan? It can't feel good."

I looked at her coldly. "Who gave you permission to enter? Get out."

"You think you're still the high and mighty Chief Advisor?" Julia shot up, her voice rising. "You're nothing but a criminal waiting for sentencing!"

She stepped closer, lowering her voice, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"The Earl is being merciful," she said with mock sympathy. "He's willing to forget about the fifteen crates of mana crystals."

"All he wants is for you to contribute your private blood bank!" she stared at me, her greed unconcealed. "Turn it into a public clan resource. As payment for your crimes."

My private blood bank.

It held my personal collection of priceless bloods brought from House Valerius, each vial worth a fortune.

They didn't just want my power. They wanted to bleed me dry of my last remaining value.

"And if I don't?" I asked, my voice ice.

Julia gestured to the menacing guards behind her, her threat clear.

"Then we will have no choice but to exile you from the clan and broadcast your greedy crimes to every vampire coven there is. You'll be a pariah, unable to ever show your face again!"

She took a step back, lifting her chin arrogantly, a true commander.

"So you'd better be smart about this. You have three days. Hand over your private blood bank."

I almost laughed at the greed twisting Julia’s face.

Exile me? Expose my "crimes"?

Ignorance truly is bliss.

I am a pureblood descendant of House Valerius. I was already planning to leave this disgusting place and let them fend for themselves in the darkness without my protection.

But just as I was about to tell her to get lost, my eyes locked onto the necklace around her throat. A pigeon's blood ruby.

The pure red stone shimmered in the dim light.

My pupils contracted.

That was mine. I had sealed a drop of my own heart's blood inside that ruby to create a protective amulet.

I had placed it around Joseph's neck myself, telling him it could ward off a hunter's fatal blow.

I thought it was a symbol of our love.

And now, it was hanging around the neck of this fledgling, this turned blood servant.

I finally understood. Why she was so brazen, why Joseph was so quick to side with her.

They were already sharing a bed.

The bitter irony was that just last night, Joseph had been kissing my forehead, whispering sweet nothings.

"Elizabeth, after we defeat the hunters, after my power is truly secure, we will be formally mated. I want the whole world to know you're mine."

Lies. All of it, a complete lie.

He used me as a shield against swords and bullets, only to turn around and give the treasures I bled for to his new plaything in the shadows.

Leave?

No. I was staying.

I would give this pair a lesson in pain they would never, ever forget.

I quickly buried the murder in my eyes, replacing it with a look of defeated compromise.

"Fine," I said, dropping my gaze and biting my lip as if in reluctant surrender. "I agree. You can have the blood bank."

Seeing me yield so easily, the arrogance in Julia's eyes practically overflowed.

"See? That wasn't so hard," she laughed. "Oh, and I almost forgot to announce something important."

She sauntered over to my desk, her finger tracing over the stacks of official documents.

"As of today, I am the new Deputy Advisor to the Nightwood Clan. And by the Earl's command, any requests you have—even your daily blood rations—must be personally approved by me."

She turned, her eyes raking over me with extreme disdain.

"Also, pack your things and get out of this room. I'll be living here now."

I glanced around the room.

It was in the heart of the castle, inscribed with a moonlight matrix that amplified one’s power, and it was the closest chamber to Joseph’s own.

She wanted to mark her territory.

"Fine," I said, without a single wasted word.

I went to my wardrobe, grabbed a few changes of clothes and some personal items, and threw them into a suitcase.

"Hurry up! And don't you dare damage my furniture!" Julia barked like an overseer.

I zipped up the suitcase, walked past her with a blank expression, and left the room I had lived in for a hundred years.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I walked straight to the most remote guest room at the end of the hall.

The moment the door closed, the look of defeat vanished from my face, replaced by a glacial cold.

I immediately made a secret call to the Lawkeeper of House Valerius.

"I need some clarification on vampire law. Does an Earl have the right to seize another's private blood bank?"

The reply was swift and respectful. "Absolutely not, Your Highness. Such an act would be met with severe punishment from the Elders. Prince Valerius would never allow harm to come to you."

After cutting the connection, I pulled out a yellowed parchment: a land deed.

A hundred years ago, Joseph had the title of Earl but no real power. To protect his fragile ego, I had concealed my identity and anonymously "rented" him this castle—a subsidiary property of House Valerius—for the laughably low price of three crates of common blood a month.

This ancient fortress, with its own built-in defensive wards, was worth at least twenty-five crates of the finest rare bloods per month on the open market.

He had lived here for free for so long, he'd actually started to believe it was his.

I let out a cold laugh and put the deed away.

Just then, a commotion started in the hallway.

I opened the door a crack.

Julia was directing a dozen blood servants, loudly moving her tacky belongings into my former room.

She was bragging about how much Joseph adored her, her face a mask of greed and pride.

I raised my communication stone and activated the recording feature.

Enjoy it while you can, Julia.

I hope you sleep well in that bed.

The next morning, I received news of Joseph’s next move against me.

I was to be placed under house arrest for a month, with guards watching my every move. And I was to hand over all my ally contacts and their corresponding signets to Julia.

I walked to Julia’s new room. The door was ajar, and I could hear her giggling inside.

I pushed it open to find the room completely transformed. My tasteful oil paintings and lace had been replaced with vulgar velvet and gaudy gold trinkets.

Julia herself was half-dressed, straddling Joseph’s lap. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, their faces intimately close.

It seemed I had interrupted something.

The moment he saw me, Joseph froze.

He reflexively pushed Julia off him and hastily straightened his disheveled shirt.

A flash of panic crossed his face as he took a step forward. "Elizabeth, we were just—"

"I'm here to hand over the signets," I cut him off, my voice cold.

No hysterical tears, no humiliating questions. I was as calm as if I were looking at two strangers.

Joseph stopped in his tracks. He studied my face, as if searching for any sign that I cared.

There was none.

His expression darkened. He spun around, grabbed Julia by the waist, and right there, in front of me, crushed his lips against hers.

Julia let out a theatrical moan, shooting me a triumphant, provocative glance as she clung to his neck.

I stood there, silently watching their pathetic performance.

"Finished?" I asked, dropping the heavy file of ally dossiers onto the table with a loud thud. "Here are all the signets. Sign for them."

Julia pushed Joseph away, smugly adjusting her clothes.

"I need to know the specific preferences of Prince Archon of the High Council," she said in a commanding tone. "The Earl is about to sign a treaty with him. This is crucial for the future of the Nightwood Clan. There can be no mistakes."

"Prince Archon is eccentric, but there is one thing he can't refuse," I said, looking her straight in the eye. "He has an extreme preference for a rare blood found only in the arctic tundra. Conveniently, I have three vials left in my private vault."

Julia's eyes lit up.

"Then give me the key to your vault now!" she demanded, holding out her hand.

Her demand was exactly what I wanted. I handed over the key without hesitation.

A faint smile played on my lips. "Take it. I hope it helps you win the Prince's favor."

Julia clutched the key as if it were a ticket into the highest echelons of vampire society.

She had no idea the key was worthless.

Prince Archon was my great-grand-uncle.

Without my permission, that key was just a useless piece of metal.

The handover complete, I turned and left.

Fifteen minutes later, I dissolved into a black mist and reappeared silently at the underground entrance to my private vault.

"Your Highness," the guard captain, Robert, materialized from the shadows and knelt on one knee.

"Full alert, effective immediately," I commanded, my voice like ice. "No one is to enter this vault using my key or my name. If Julia, Joseph, or any of their people try to force their way in, activate the kill-wards. Leave no survivors."

"As you command, Your Highness," Robert replied, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes.

That evening, the castle's grand hall was ablaze with light.

I stood in the dark corridor of the second floor, looking down.

Joseph and Julia, dressed in their finest, were about to leave.

Joseph wore a lavish velvet suit, paid for with spoils from battles I had won. Julia was draped in an extravagant white fox fur, like a common crow trying to flaunt peacock feathers.

"Oh, Elizabeth," Julia called out, looking up and spotting me. She raised her voice so every servant in the hall could hear. "We're off to a high-society gala. It’s such a shame you’re a disgrace now. You'll never set foot in a place like this again."

She clung to Joseph's arm, laughing, the pigeon's blood ruby necklace flashing under the crystal chandeliers.

I turned my gaze to Joseph.

He was calmly adjusting his cufflinks.

He never once looked up at me, giving his silent approval as his new paramour hurled cheap insults.

Finally, he spoke, his voice dismissive. "That's enough, Julia. It's time to go."

I watched them leave together. Then, I returned to my cramped guest room and retrieved a yellowed portrait from a hidden compartment.

It was a sketch he had drawn of me, blushing, a hundred years ago.

Expressionless, I tossed it into the roaring fireplace.

I watched the flames turn the portrait to ash. The fire didn't just burn the paper; it burned away the fool I used to be, the girl who gave everything for him. It was over.