Chapter 5: The Vampire's Bargain

The first trial had been a disaster of epic proportions.

Hazel sat in her chambers that evening, still reeling from the day's events. What was supposed to have been a test of magical prowess had turned into a supernatural pissing contest, with Elian using every opportunity to make veiled references to her "secret education," Kael prowling around the arena like a caged wolf, and Leon maintaining such rigid control that she'd feared he might shatter from the tension.

Through it all, Duke Caspian had been... absent. Not physically—he'd participated in the challenges with lethal efficiency that spoke of centuries of experience. But mentally, emotionally, he'd seemed detached from the entire proceedings, as if he were observing an interesting but ultimately irrelevant academic exercise.

Now, as twilight painted her chamber windows purple and gold, Hazel tried to process what came next. Two more trials. Two more days of being paraded before supernatural royalty while her most intimate secrets hung in the air like a sword waiting to fall.

A soft knock interrupted her brooding. "Enter," she called, expecting her lady-in-waiting with the evening meal.

Instead, Duke Caspian Nightshade stepped into her chamber with the fluid silence of shadow given form. Unlike Elian's earlier intrusion, there was nothing predatory about his presence—more like a scholar entering a library, purposeful but respectful.

"Duke Caspian." She rose from her window seat, suddenly aware that she was wearing only a simple evening gown with her hair unbound. "This is rather irregular."

"Irregular times call for irregular measures, Princess." His crimson eyes studied her with that same clinical assessment she'd noticed at dinner, but up close, she could see something else there—a keen intelligence that missed nothing. "May I?"

He gestured to the sitting area near the fireplace. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded and joined him, careful to maintain proper distance.

"You didn't seem particularly invested in today's trial," she observed, settling into the chair across from him.

"Invested in what? A magical obstacle course designed to showcase our supernatural abilities?" His pale lips curved in what might charitably be called a smile. "Princess, I've been alive for over a thousand years. I've seen empires rise and fall, witnessed the birth and death of entire magical species. A few party tricks hardly seem worth my full attention."

There was something refreshing about his bluntness after a day of political maneuvering and veiled threats. "Then why are you here? Why participate in the trials at all?"

Caspian leaned back in his chair, his movements precise and economical. Everything about him spoke of absolute control, as if he'd long ago decided exactly how much energy each action deserved.

"An excellent question. One I suspect you've been asking about all of us." His crimson gaze fixed on her face. "But perhaps a better question is why you're participating in trials for a kingdom that's already doomed."

The blunt words hit her like a physical blow. "Excuse me?"

"Your realm is dying, Princess. The magical barriers are failing, reality is becoming unstable, and your parents are scrambling to find a powerful enough alliance to shore up the defenses." He spoke as if discussing the weather. "Standard procedure for a pocket dimension running out of magical energy."

"The marriage alliance will provide the power we need—"

"Will it?" Caspian's head tilted slightly, like a predator scenting prey. "Tell me, when did the problems begin? When did you first notice the magic fading?"

Hazel frowned, thinking back. "About two years ago. The flowers in the garden started losing their color, the floating candles began flickering..."

"Two years." He nodded as if confirming a theory. "And in those two years, how much magical energy has your kingdom expended trying to diagnose and fix the problem?"

"I... I don't know the exact amounts, but—"

"Considerable amounts, I'd wager. Consultations with magical experts, diagnostic spells, attempts to reinforce the barriers." Caspian's crimson eyes never left her face. "All of which would require drawing on your realm's remaining magical reserves."

A chill ran down Hazel's spine. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Princess. I'm telling you." He leaned forward slightly, and she caught a glimpse of fangs behind his pale lips. "Your kingdom's magic isn't fading naturally. It's being stolen. Drained systematically by someone with both the knowledge and access to do so without detection."

The room seemed to spin around her. "That's impossible. The magical wards would detect any external intrusion—"

"Would they detect internal theft?" Caspian asked quietly. "What if the person stealing your magic was already inside the barriers? Someone trusted, someone with legitimate access to your realm's power sources?"

Hazel's mind raced, cataloguing everyone with that level of access. The royal family, the court mages, a few trusted advisors... and Leon. Leon, who'd arrived at court just over two years ago. Leon, who'd quickly gained her parents' trust and been given unprecedented access to the castle's magical infrastructure.

"I can see you're beginning to understand," Caspian observed. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered. "What do you gain?"

For the first time since entering her chamber, something that might have been genuine emotion flickered across his aristocratic features. "There's something in your kingdom that I need. Something that was stolen from my people centuries ago and hidden here for safekeeping."

"What kind of something?"

"A magical artifact. The Sanguine Crown—a relic of immense power that once belonged to the vampire courts." His crimson eyes grew distant. "It was entrusted to Silverwood's ancestors during a time of great conflict, with the understanding that it would be returned when the danger passed. That was four hundred years ago."

"And you think it's still here?"

"I know it's still here. I can sense its presence, faint but unmistakable." Caspian's gaze sharpened again. "But I need access to your kingdom's deepest vaults, its most protected archives. Access that only someone with royal blood can provide."

Hazel stared at him, trying to process the enormity of what he was suggesting. "You're asking me to help you steal from my own kingdom."

"I'm asking you to help me reclaim what was never yours to keep." His tone remained level, but she sensed steel beneath the calm surface. "In exchange, I'll help you expose whoever is truly draining Silverwood's magic."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then your kingdom dies anyway, and I find another way to reclaim what's mine." He shrugged elegantly. "Though I suspect that way would be considerably more... unpleasant... for everyone involved."

The threat was delivered so casually it took her a moment to recognize it for what it was. This wasn't a desperate suitor pleading for her hand—this was an ancient predator offering her a business proposition.

"You don't actually want to marry me at all," she realized.

"Marriage is a political tool, Princess. Useful in some circumstances, irrelevant in others." Caspian rose from his chair with fluid grace. "What I want is the Crown. What you should want is the truth about who's betraying your kingdom."

"How do I know you're not the one stealing our magic?"

"Because if I were, your realm would already be dead." The matter-of-fact delivery was somehow more chilling than any threat. "I don't steal, Princess. I take what's mine and destroy what stands in my way. There's a difference."

Hazel stood as well, her mind churning with possibilities. If Caspian was right about the magic being stolen from within... if Leon was somehow involved...

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"A partnership. You help me access the vaults, I help you uncover the truth. Once we both have what we need, you can make an informed decision about your kingdom's future." His pale lips curved in that not-quite-smile again. "Consider it a more honest version of courtship than what your other suitors are offering."

"The trials—"

"Will continue as planned. I'll participate, maintain the pretense, play whatever role is necessary." Caspian moved toward the door, then paused. "But Princess, whatever you decide, decide quickly. Your kingdom has perhaps a month before the magical collapse becomes irreversible."

"A month?" Her voice came out as a strangled whisper.

"At most. The rate of drain has been accelerating recently." His crimson eyes met hers one final time. "I wonder what could have caused such a sudden increase in magical theft?"

As the door closed behind him, Hazel sank back into her chair, her mind reeling. The trials, her parents' desperation, Leon's sudden involvement in her courtship—what if it was all connected? What if the man she'd given her heart to was slowly killing everything she'd sworn to protect?

Outside her window, the castle's magical lights flickered ominously, as if responding to her growing doubts. For the first time since the trials began, Hazel wondered if the greatest threat to her kingdom wasn't external political pressure or failing magic.

What if the enemy had been inside the walls all along?

The thought sent ice through her veins, but beneath the fear, something else stirred. If Caspian was right, if someone was betraying everything she held dear, then she needed to know the truth.

Even if that truth destroyed her.