He didn't even try to hide the call from me.

Even without trying to listen, my vampiric hearing could still pick up Camilla's weak, breathless voice on the other end.

"Vincent, my chest hurts so much… Can you come see me?"

The smile on Vincent's lips hadn't fully faded.

He hung up and turned to throw on his black velvet coat.

"Camilla's condition is flaring up again. I have to go."

I lowered my head, my gaze sweeping over the advanced blood analysis report once more.

The date of the bonding was two weeks ago.

And on that night two weeks ago, he had disappeared for the entire night for the first time in two centuries.

He told me there was an uprising in a low-coven territory in Brooklyn that required the Prince's personal intervention.

But thinking back now, he had spent that entire night by Camilla's bedside.

He had sliced open his own veins, feeding his pure, princely blood drop by drop into that woman's body, forging a Mutual Blood Bond that fused their very life forces.

It turned out I had long been written out of his destiny.

He was just waiting for the right moment to "inform" me, and he never cared what I thought.

I had fantasized countless times about our wedding day.

I looked forward to taking his arm under the gaze of all the North American coven elders.

I looked forward to him seeing me in my wedding gown.

But now, all those delusional hopes had turned to dust in the sunlight.

A gust of wind, and they were gone.

After Vincent left, the vast castle fell into a dead silence. My phone suddenly vibrated.

It was an encrypted number from Florence, Italy. I answered.

"Elena, it's been a long time."

"I know your Union Ceremony is next month."

"But I have to ask you one last time. Are you absolutely sure you won't reconsider coming to Florence?"

"If you come, you'll be the sole director of this classified experiment, with the highest level of research authority."

My mentor had invited me to join this top-secret project six months ago.

But joining the project meant severing all contact with the outside world.

For months, or even years, not a whisper about my existence would get out.

At the time, believing I was about to be a bride, I refused without a second thought.

My research on the 'Daylight Serum' had always been for Vincent, to protect him from the sun's scorching rays and allow him to walk more freely in the daylight. I had no greater ambitions.

But looking back now, I saw what a complete and utter fool I'd been.

Since he never cherished our relationship and took my two centuries of companionship for granted…

Then everything I had done for him had lost its meaning.

"Mentor, I've made my decision."

I turned my head and looked at a framed photo from our engagement party on the vanity.

I raised my hand and swept the frame directly into the trash can beside it.

"I accept the invitation. I'll go directly to the secluded underground lab."

"I don't need any special leave privileges. We can proceed with the most rigorous experimental schedule."

My mentor's voice was filled with undisguised excitement and joy.

"A wise choice. A genius like you shouldn't be wasted in the political mire of New York."

He paused. "I heard you have a Union Ceremony next month. In that case, I'll send a private jet to pick you up the day after your ceremony?"

I looked out the window at the cold, endless night and replied softly,

"No. The day of the ceremony is fine."

My gaze slowly drifted to the parchment calendar on the antique desk.

On the tenth of next month, I had once joyfully circled the date in dark red ink.

Originally, I wanted to look at it every day, to count down the days until he placed the crown on my head and made me his rightful Princess Consort.

But now, this sacred date had become the countdown to my final escape from Vincent.

In two weeks, the high and mighty Prince and I…

We would never cross paths again.

That night, Vincent did not return to the castle.

I didn't use my Sight to check on his whereabouts; I'd already seen Camilla's social media feed.

The photo showed two hands clasped tightly, holding a magnificent solid-gold blood goblet.

The caption read: "You are my endless night, and you are my sun."

I zoomed in on the photo, my gaze fixated on their overlapping wrists.

Beneath their pale skin, two dark red, thorn-like marks were starkly visible.

The Bond Mark.

Only vampires who had formed a Mutual Blood Bond, their souls and bodies deeply intertwined, would develop this indelible mark.

For two hundred years, I had poured my heart and soul into him.

Because he was highly sensitive to light, I spent day after day in the lab developing the Daylight Serum.

Countless times, I suffered extensive burns from high-intensity UV lamps, the pain so great my entire body would seize.

But he merely watched with cold indifference, never showing a single shred of genuine concern.

He always said that a noble, pure-blooded vampire didn't need such frivolous experiments that went against their nature.

I thought he was just arrogant from being in power for so long.

It wasn't until Camilla, this duplicitous "savior," appeared that I finally saw the truth. He understood everything perfectly.

He just reserved that understanding for someone else.

Now, I had no idea what I was to him anymore.

That afternoon, I met my maid of honor, Linda, at a café.

"You can cancel the fitting for the couture gown in Milan," I told her calmly. "The ceremony is off."

Initially, Vincent had despised such ancient, cumbersome rituals.

It was only after my repeated pleading that he reluctantly agreed to give me a grand ceremony.

Linda shot up from her seat in shock, about to ask what happened, but I shook my head to stop her.

An indescribable bitterness welled up inside me.

Everyone in the coven knew I loved Vincent. There was no need to say more.

How could it not hurt to sever a devotion that had lasted two centuries?

But this relationship had been a one-sided sacrifice from the very beginning.

I had walked on eggshells in this relationship, conceding ground step by step.

I had retreated so far that now it was his wedding with someone else, his blood bond with someone else.

In the end, I couldn't bring myself to speak the humiliating truth.

I only told her that I was joining a top-secret experiment at the European Institute and would be making very few public appearances in the future.

I drank at a bar until the early hours. When I returned to the castle late that night, Vincent had just gotten back as well.

He sniffed the air sharply, his brow immediately knitting. "You were out drinking?"

"I've told you before. Stay away from those places in the human world. They're not safe."

I gave a self-deprecating smile. In the past, a seemingly caring remark like that would have moved me to tears.

Without a word, I turned and ascended the spiral staircase, showering the scent off me in the bathroom.

When I emerged in a silk nightgown, Vincent was leaning back on the velvet settee.

His long fingers were tapping quickly on his phone screen, a soft smile playing on his lips.

I coldly averted my gaze, preparing to go straight to my room to rest.

But he suddenly called out to me.

"There's something I need to discuss with you."

My steps halted abruptly.

The last time I heard those words was when he first proposed holding a mock wedding with Camilla, which led to a fierce argument between us.

Now, he had already formed a Mutual Blood Bond with her.

What else could he possibly need to "discuss" with me?

"Cancel the trip to Milan tomorrow for the gown fitting."

Vincent's voice was quiet but left no room for argument.

It was a trip we had planned six months ago, one I still had marked in color on my calendar.

The gown was a masterpiece, custom-made for me by a hundred high-coven artisans over several months.

Truthfully, even if he hadn't brought it up, I had no intention of going.

I had already given up on this so-called ceremony.

His saying so actually saved me the trouble of finding an excuse to refuse. It spared us both the effort.

"Alright," I answered calmly. "Fine. I'll have the steward inform the atelier in Milan. I don't want the gown anymore."

The moment I finished, Vincent was visibly taken aback. He clearly hadn't expected me to agree so readily.

He paused, his brow furrowing.

In his mind, I should have fought for this honor, a privilege reserved for the Princess Consort.

After all, when it came to anything related to our union, I was always the one most obsessed with details, down to the pattern of the lace itself.

"You're not... going to ask why?" he asked, his long, narrow eyes squinting.

"As the Prince wishes." My tone was ice as I turned to continue up the stairs.

"Our trip is canceled," he paused, then continued, "but the gown is not."

"It's Camilla. With her frail condition, she said she might never get the chance to wear a real wedding dress."

"I'm letting her try on the gown that was designed for you. It will fulfill her final wish."

"After she's gone, I'll have the workshop create a new, even better one for you from the finest wintersilk."

His tone was utterly matter-of-fact; he wasn't discussing it with me. He just needed his fiancée to nod obediently and indulge his so-called "ancient code of honor."

But he didn't know that for us, there was no 'after.'

I didn't even have the energy for a cold laugh. I lowered my eyes and said, "Fine."

"Elena, it's just a dress," Vincent called out from behind me. "You've always been understanding and generous. Don't be petty with her at a time like this."

Since I wasn't going through with this union anyway, he could give the dress to whomever he pleased.

Vincent stood there, staring at my back, his brow tightening.

I was too calm.

None of the soothing words and explanations he had prepared were needed. The feeling of punching at smoke left the controlling Prince with a flicker of irritation.

The next morning, as I descended the spiral staircase, Vincent was already dressed.

He adjusted his cufflinks while speaking rapidly, "After the fitting, Camilla's body will need to rest. I plan to accompany her to the Blood Springs in the Undercity on a retreat. It should help her through this last bout of weakness."

"As for the remaining arrangements for the Union Ceremony, handle them as you see fit. You have full authority. There's no need to inform me."

Again, I gave a faint, "Alright," too weary to offer anything more.

This Union Ceremony, the talk of New York's covens, would have no wedding gown, no crown, and no vows.

And, of course, no bride.

Vincent watched me drink my blood plasma, my expression placid. He hesitated.

Perhaps his conscience finally pricked him, or maybe he wanted to assuage some trivial sense of guilt. He added:

"After the ceremony, I plan to build a laboratory for you."

"You've always said you didn't want to give up your research, haven't you? I'll build you a bigger one."

"Also, the trip to Northern Europe, I've already arranged it. I remember you've always wanted to see the aurora borealis."

In the past, hearing the Prince who never wanted to leave his territory offer such a gesture would have made me ecstatic.

He had always looked down on my research, and I had begged him countless times to travel with me, only to be coldly refused with excuses like "I detest sunlight" and "It's unnecessary."

But this time, Vincent still didn't get the reaction he was hoping for.

Seeing he was running out of time, he could only say, "We'll talk when I get back."

I picked up a pen and viciously crossed out the words "Milan Gown Fitting" on the calendar.

Eleven days left.

I didn't rest. Instead, I began clearing the room of all my personal belongings.

For two hundred years, I had slowly filled the cold castle.

From the glass vials in the study where I formulated his Daylight Serum, to the dust-covered gramophone in the corner, to the matching silk robes in the closet that he had never once worn.

It seemed I had so many things, yet every single one revolved around Vincent.

But he had never used them, let alone cared.

If that was the case, then I would burn them.

Let it all turn to ash, along with my two centuries of foolish love.