My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

Rakshasa was sprawled across one of the armchairs in her private sitting room, one leg draped over the armrest and her head resting against her hand. She had tried reading, then meditating, and eventually gave up on both. Nothing had managed to hold her attention for long since returning from seeing Victor.

Her butler stood a few meters behind her, reviewing a list of matters concerning the castle while pretending not to notice the irritated sigh she let out every few minutes.

"My Lady, I’m certain Young Master Victor will invite you to the gala," he said after the fourth sigh. "There are still a few days before the event."

Rakshasa turned her face toward him.

"I know."

"Then I see no reason for concern."

"I’m not concerned."

"Naturally."

Rakshasa narrowed her eyes.

The butler continued reading the list as though he had noticed nothing.

She released another sigh, even louder this time, and sank deeper into the chair.

The problem was not really the gala itself.

If it were up to her, she could easily go another six months without setting foot in a formal vampire gathering. She had attended more aristocratic parties than she could remember and knew exactly how they worked: important people pretending to like one another while negotiating influence behind polite smiles.

She was bored for another reason.

"I just wanted to keep fucking him until I passed out," she muttered.

The butler showed no reaction.

Rakshasa looked at him.

"You heard that."

"Unfortunately, My Lady."

"Then you agree that would be a better use of my time."

"I do not believe my opinion is required on that matter."

"Coward."

Before the butler could answer, Rakshasa sensed a presence appear in front of the palace.

Her expression changed immediately.

The person was not trying to hide their approach, but they also had not needed to use the normal entrances.

Seconds later, a woman walked through the doors of the room, accompanied by two guards who remained outside.

Rias Valentine was tall, with dark wine-colored hair flowing down her back and formal clothing that identified her position within the family.

Her presence was controlled, with no attempt to test Rakshasa’s strength, but there was enough confidence in her steps to show that she was not accustomed to asking permission before entering many places.

Rakshasa straightened slightly.

"Rias. What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask a question."

"If it’s about politics, my butler can answer."

"It’s about the Gala."

Rakshasa became more attentive.

Rias walked to one of the chairs in front of her and sat without waiting for an invitation.

"Are you going?"

"You came all the way to my palace personally just to ask that?"

"Most of the upper echelon has confirmed attendance. After the recent events, they want to turn the gala into a demonstration of the family’s stability."

Rias rested her hands over her legs.

"The captains will be there, most of the branch heads as well, and some outside guests have been granted permission to attend."

"That still doesn’t explain why my presence matters."

Rias remained silent for a moment.

"The Princess will also appear."

Rakshasa’s eyes narrowed.

"That woman is actually going to show her face?" She sat completely upright in the armchair. "After two thousand years?"

Rias did not confirm it verbally, but she made no attempt to deny it either.

Rakshasa let out a small laugh of surprise.

"Now that really is news."

"That is exactly why we’re trying to know beforehand who will be present."

Rakshasa studied Rias more carefully.

"Is the Princess’s safety at risk?"

Rias took a deep breath before answering.

"Not directly. At least we have no indication of that. But our problem with the werewolves has become too serious to ignore possibilities, and the King wants as much protection around her as possible."

Rakshasa gave a sideways smile.

"Of course he does."

Rias closed her eyes for a moment.

"You know what Vlad is like when it involves his daughter."

Rakshasa knew.

Vlad could hear threats against his own kingdom without changing expression.

He could lose money, territory, or political influence and treat it like an administrative problem.

Beautiful women had never managed to attract much of his interest either, despite countless families attempting to place their daughters near the throne.

None of that mattered nearly as much as his daughter.

To Vlad, the Princess was his little blood flower and practically the private center of his universe.

The man who could make decisions involving thousands of lives lost nearly all capacity for rational thought when someone merely suggested she might be in danger.

Rakshasa placed one hand against her chest in false concern.

"That’s troubling."

Rias gave her a dry look.

"You’re mocking him."

"A little."

"He put more security around the gala than around some border fortresses."

"That makes it even better."

"Rakshasa."

"I’m listening."

Rias clearly decided not to encourage that part of the conversation.

"I only need to know whether you’re going or not. Your presence changes the security arrangements, and it would be better to receive an answer before—"

A blood bat flew through the window.

Both women looked at it immediately.

The small creature circled the room a few times before descending directly onto Rakshasa and landing on her thighs.

She recognized the signature before she even touched it.

Her boredom disappeared.

"Oh?"

Rakshasa carefully picked up the bat.

The creature dissolved into blood, leaving a small folded piece of paper between her fingers.

"What’s this?" she asked, already opening it.

Rias watched.

Rakshasa read the first few lines.

Her face lit up.

It was not a subtle smile.

Her entire expression changed at once, and even the butler raised his eyes when he noticed how his lady’s irritation had vanished within seconds.

Victor had sent the invitation personally.

Rakshasa quickly read it again to make sure.

Then she folded the paper.

"Yes, I’m going."

Rias raised an eyebrow.

"That was fast."

"My schedule just opened up."

"You were complaining that you didn’t know whether you were going."

"Now I know."

Rias looked at the paper.

"What’s on that little note that changed your mood that much?"

Rakshasa immediately stood.

"Shut up and get out."

Rias blinked.

"Excuse me?"

Rakshasa was already walking toward the hallway.

"I need to find a dress."

"You have hundreds."

"They won’t work."

"Why?"

Rakshasa stopped and looked at her as though she were explaining something painfully obvious.

"Because I need to look really fucking hot."

Rias remained silent.

Rakshasa pointed at the butler.

"Call the seamstresses. All of them."

"Immediately, My Lady."

"I want options in red, black, wine, and gold. Nothing too modest, nothing too excessive, and any dress that hides my legs is automatically rejected."

"Understood."

Rias slowly stood.

"You really got like this because of Victor?"

Rakshasa looked again at the small invitation between her fingers and smiled.

"He invited me to walk in beside him."

"That’s all?"

"That’s plenty."

Rias realized she was not going to get a more reasonable answer.

Rakshasa was already walking out of the room when she stopped one more time.

"Oh, Rias."

"What?"

"You can tell whoever is organizing the gala."

"About what?"

Rakshasa raised the invitation.

"I’m going with Victor."

Her smile widened.

"So get ready for gossip."

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