A King's Burden

Lucien's POV

I walked away from the crowded hallway, the sharp, triumphant click of her cheap shoes echoing against the ancient stone floor behind me. I watched her figure disappear around the corner, a burning tangle of embarrassment and intense, simmering frustration churning in my gut. I hadn't planned to let an orphan from Switzerland leave me standing speechless like a fool, yet here I was, my regal pride stinging from the encounter. The situation was beyond baffling. Oxford was designed as a flawless sanctuary, a meticulously crafted illusion where the ordinary human population remained blissfully oblivious to our existence. Within these historic, ivy-clad walls, our kind could study, thrive, and rule without the nuisance of mortal scrutiny.

Our elite society, Tenebris, elevated this institution into an impenetrable fortress of power. Entry into our ranks was strictly bound to an ancient, sacred hierarchy. We were the Purebloods. Our lifespans stretched into the thousands of years, sustained by a genetic blood disease passed down through unbroken generations. We craved clean human blood, and we possessed power that humans could only dream of. We were the apex predators, the rulers of the night, flanked by our Bittens—those turned by force, forever weaker and devoid of our royal lineage. Only Pureblood children could be born to Pureblood parents, keeping our families the absolute highest echelon of society. Humans were meant to be nothing more than our oblivious cover, our prey, or our passing amusements.

Yet Evangeline, who appeared to be the most fragile, ordinary human girl imaginable, had somehow breached our ancient, Pureblood-exclusive society. She stood in these halls, breathing our air, blissfully unaware of the monsters lurking in plain sight. She was destined to shift into a vampire within the year, a delayed infection ticking away in her mortal veins. It made zero sense. Why would an unnamed, unrecognized human be granted entry into the highest tier of our world?

Desperate for answers and unwilling to let this insult stand, I marched straight toward the headmaster’s grand office. My long strides ate up the distance, my mind spinning with theories and accusations.

I didn't bother knocking. Pushing open the heavy oak doors, I stepped into the sprawling, dimly lit room. The scent of old parchment and leather filled the air, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood that always lingered around the ancient vampire. The headmaster sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his posture rigid and expectant. Like me, he was a powerful mind-reader, which entirely spared us the tedious need for trivial, spoken conversation. I didn't have to open my mouth to demand answers about the Swiss orphan girl. I threw my mental shields down, allowing my furious questions to flood the space between us.

He met my gaze, his eyes ancient and unreadable. Before my frustration could fully materialize into a structured thought, his voice slid directly into my mind, smooth and unapologetic. *'Evangeline is a royal Pureblood.'*

I froze. My boots rooted to the thick Persian rug. I stared at him, waiting for the punchline, waiting for the deception to reveal itself, but his expression remained carved from stone.

*'She's a Vesperis,'* he stated plainly, the weight of the name echoing in the deafening silence of my mind.

The revelation struck me with the devastating force of a physical blow. It knocked the breath straight from my lungs, leaving me reeling. *Vesperis.* The infamous thirteenth royal lineage. My mind flashed to the brutal history lessons drilled into me since childhood. The Vesperis family had been globally condemned and brutally executed for horrific war crimes. They were monsters even among monsters, leaving trails of unspeakable carnage in their wake. My own family had shed blood fighting against them in the great wars, wiping their tainted name from the face of the earth. Or so we thought.

*'Her pregnant mother vanished entirely off the grid eighteen years ago,'* the headmaster’s thoughts continued, threading through my shock with surgical precision. *'She must have given birth in secret, hiding the child from the wrath of the twelve families. Evangeline grew up in that orphanage completely ignorant of her dark, bloody heritage. She doesn't know our kind exists, nor does she know the legacy she carries in her veins.'*

"Why is she here?" I protested aloud, my voice laced with venom. Telepathy was no longer enough; I needed to hear my own voice cut through the sheer madness of his words. I knew perfectly well the violent retribution her specific bloodline would inevitably invite. If the other pureblood families discovered a surviving Vesperis walking these halls, a massacre would ensue. My own family would lead the charge, eager to finish the execution started centuries ago. Bringing her here was a death sentence, not just for her, but for anyone caught in the crossfire.

The headmaster steepled his fingers, maddeningly calm. "She is my personal guest. Her stay is officially sanctioned and protected by the royal court. I am in control of her presence here, and no one is to inform her of her heritage until she is ready."

I scoffed, pacing in front of his desk like a caged predator. "She’s a human student right now, but she’ll shift soon. The infection will take over. You cannot hide a royal transition from the rest of the academy. It will be chaos."

"Which is why you will be personally responsible for overseeing her acclimation into our dangerous world," he commanded, his tone shifting into absolute authority. "Involve her in Tenebris. You will invite her as your date."

Internal alarms blared deafeningly. The pieces clicked into place, forming a picture I despised. This wasn't just a random assignment from a concerned headmaster. My father had a hand in this. The royal court wouldn't orchestrate a bond like this without his explicit backing. My father had already secretly agreed to this orchestrated setup behind my back, fully expecting me to manipulate and guide this naive girl into our society, merely to forge a powerful Pureblood partnership. He had been nagging me for decades to claim a submissive mate, someone I could mold, someone whose royal power could be harnessed to bolster our own lineage.

Infuriated at being treated like a disposable pawn or a puppet dancing on strings, I spun on my heel, ready to storm out of the room. I refused to play babysitter to a ticking time bomb, and I certainly refused to let my father dictate my choices in a partner.

"I'll consider it," I gritted out through clenched teeth, desperately suppressing a fiery, destructive resentment that threatened to boil over. In my own kingdom, absolutely no one dared address me with such blatant audacity.

"If you want to remain at the University after what you did last year, young man, I suggest that you follow my orders."

His voice cut sharply through the heavy tension in the room. It was chillingly calm and laced with a very real, very dangerous threat.

My hackles raised instantly. Primal vampire instincts flared, a low, territorial growl rumbling deep in my chest. Fangs pressed against my lower lip as my hands curled into tight fists. The shadow of my past actions loomed over me, a weapon he was all too eager to wield. How dare he leverage my past against me?

I whipped back around, meeting his gaze with lethal intent. "I am a KING!" I declared. The freezing chill in the room perfectly matched the ice in my voice. The ambient magic in the office seemed to drop in temperature, frosting the edges of the grand windows.

"Here you are a student," he retorted unyieldingly. He was completely unfazed by my title, his posture relaxed despite the deadly aura rolling off me in waves. "Consider Evangeline a consequence of your actions. A lesson, perhaps, for a young king accustomed to unbridled privilege. Oxford is more than a mere playground for you. It is an institution with rules, Cassander."

His heavy words hung in the stale air. It was a bitter, heavy truth I fiercely hated to admit. I stood there, the tension vibrating in my muscles. Despite my burning anger, I deeply cherished this Academy. Outside these walls, I was a ruling monarch burdened by a heavy crown, endless political warfare, and the suffocating expectations of my bloodline. But here, in this rare, isolated haven, my peers and friends saw me not merely as a king, but simply as Cassander. It was a freedom I wasn't willing to forfeit, not even over my bruised, regal pride.

I forced my breathing to slow, reeling my fangs back behind my lips. My mind began to calculate the possibilities, the strategic advantage shifting into focus. The headmaster had backed me into a corner, but maybe there was an angle I could play. Entertaining the notion of getting to know the fiery Evangeline might finally silence my father's incessant, irritating demands for me to take a submissive partner. I pictured the defiance in her eyes back in the hallway. She wasn't entirely unattractive. In fact, beneath that cheap, unpolished exterior, there was a spark.

The vivid thought of her absolute astonishment when she eventually realized I possessed the power to command her submission was an incredibly enticing prospect. Breaking a Vesperis to my will? Forcing that sharp, mocking tongue to beg for my approval, to yield entirely to my dominance? The dark anticipation began to replace my anger. She thought I was just an arrogant upperclassman. She had no idea of the depths of control I could wield over her body and mind.

I glanced back at the headmaster. I carefully schooled my expression into a mixture of begrudging acceptance and obstinate, regal defiance.

"I'll do it," I conceded coldly.

Without giving him a chance to revel in his victory, I turned and exited the sprawling office. The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind me, leaving me alone in the dim corridor. My thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of conflicting emotions and dark intrigue. I needed a drink to wash away the bitter taste of being manipulated, and to toast to the game that had just begun.

At least blood alcohol still existed in this prison.