Sunset bleeds across the garden, staining the pink roses a deep, bruised red.

"Marrying a vampire?" Ruby's jaw drops. Her fingers twist the fabric of her navy skirts. "What does that even mean?"

Angelina watches a Shih Tzu trot through the grass nearby. Her face remains a mask of calm. "Exactly what it literally means."

Ruby is the first to know outside the inner circle of the King and his ministers. They grew up as sisters in these halls, sharing every secret since they could walk.

This secret feels like a physical blow.

"But... but this is crazy," Ruby stammers. She paces the gravel path, her boots crunching loudly. "It's too sudden. You're getting married? To... to a ghost story? They aren't even real."

Angelina finally looks at her. A small, weary smile touches her lips. "They're real. I'll see one soon enough. I'll send a portrait... if I'm allowed."

Ruby stops. Her breath catches. "Why? Why you?"

Angelina turns back to the horizon. The light catches the gold in her hair. "The Crimson Pact. A thousand years ago, our ancestors signed it. Every century, a bride for a prince to keep the peace. This year, the debt falls on Aurelia."

"So they just take you?" Ruby's voice rises.

"Yes."

"But the throne! You're the heir! And Châtelet is... it's at the edge of the world. How do I even visit? Do they really sleep in coffins? Are you going to have to hang from the ceiling like a bat?"

"Ruby. Breathe."

Ruby's heart hammers against her ribs. Her best friend. The future King. Sold to a monster. If Angelina leaves, the kingdom falls apart. Ruby falls apart.

Angelina's voice is a flat line. "A Blood Bride lives in the Vampire Dominion. As for the throne... someone else can take the crown."

"No one else is you!" Ruby barks. She grabs Angelina's arm. "You've spent your whole life preparing for this. The people won't accept anyone else."

Angelina covers Ruby's hand with her own. Her skin is cold. "For the people, I have to go. It keeps them safe."

"That's a lie!" Ruby's eyes flash. "Peace based on a wedding is a joke. No one should be a sacrifice for some dusty tradition. You shouldn't go. You should... change the rules!"

Angelina's emerald eyes flicker. She looks down at the grass, silent.

"You can't go to some damp, dark hole," Ruby continues, her voice shaking. "If you leave, who's going to hide me? My mother has a list of creeps for me to meet. You're going to let her trap me in those tea-party nightmares? Do you want me to suffer?"

The palace was Ruby's sanctuary. The only place she could nap on a silk sofa and avoid the world.

Angelina's expression shifts. The heavy tension breaks. "So that's why you're protesting."

"I... I'll miss you! That's the main thing! You'll miss me too, right?"

Angelina sighs. She gives a slow, reluctant nod.

"Then fix it," Ruby pleads. "Don't marry a monster. Just for me."

Angelina stares at the fading sun for a long moment. She finally nods. "I'll try to think of something."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A midnight invitation hits House Kingsley. The timing is wrong. Too late for tea, too early for a wake. The vampire envoys have arrived.

Ruby gasps for air. The corset laces bite into her ribs like iron teeth. She sits in the darkened carriage, her knuckles turning white against the velvet seat.

The wheels clatter over cobblestones. She hasn't seen a vampire before. But her stomach knots for Angelina. The princess spent a lifetime preparing to rule Aurelia, not to be a Blood Bride,,.

"Ruby, stop that," Lady Kingsley hisses. Ruby's fingers let go of the cushion. "Be a lady. Look at the Princess. Follow her lead".

Inside the hall, the guests are ghosts in silk. Their skin is marble-pale under the chandeliers. They don't touch the roasted meats,.

Crimson eyes catch the light. Ruby peeks over her wine glass. Dark, predatory stares meet her own. The music swells, a dance that lasts until the candles gutter,.

The clock strikes three. The King beckons Angelina toward the study. Ruby slips into the shadows behind them.

The door clicks shut. Ruby presses her ear to the heavy oak. She can hear the jagged rhythm of their breathing.

"Angie," the King's voice is low. "You're a good girl. You know why they came today".

"To take me," Angelina whispers. Her voice tremors for a second. She grips the edge of the desk until the wood groans. "I'll go. Aurelia must be safe".

Ruby kicks the door open. It slams against the wall with a thunderous crack. The King and the Princess jump.

"What are you doing here?" Angelina's eyes go wide. The King's face darkens into a mask of fury.

Ruby ignores the glare. She marches to the center of the rug. "Take me instead. I'll go to Châtelet".

"Out! Now!" Angelina snaps. "They aren't stupid, Ruby. They know there's only one princess. You have no royal standing".

"Tell them I'm a royal bastard," Ruby says.

The room goes dead silent.

The King tilts his head. He studies Ruby's face. "A title... a title can be granted".

"Father!" a wary look crossed Angelina's face.

The vampire envoys leave before the sun rises.

Ruby drags a heavy breath into her lungs. She drops into the velvet chair beside Angelina and locks eyes with the King.

"I'm going," Ruby says. Her voice doesn't waver. "Aurelia needs a Queen, not a girl who naps all day. If the deal holds, I'm the Blood Bride."

Angelina bolts upright. The chair screeches against the stone floor. She snatches Ruby's wrist and jerks her toward the door.

"We're leaving," Angelina barks.

"Nobody moves!" The King's palm slams the desk. The inkwell rattles.

He stares at Ruby. "Kingsley. This isn't a game. Are you signing your life away for the Princess?"

"Father!" Angelina's grip on Ruby's wrist tightens until it bruises.

"Out," the King commands. He doesn't look at his daughter.

"But—"

"I said out!"

"This is House Arthur business," Angelina snaps, her chin trembling. "It doesn't involve—"

"Angelina Arthur! Do you dare defy me?" The King's roar echoes off the vaulted ceiling.

Thirty minutes pass before the heavy oak doors groan open.

Ruby steps into the Rose Gallery. Midnight wind whistles through the stone arches, whipping her black hair across her face.

Angelina is a shadow against the wall. She marches forward, her face bone-pale in the moonlight.

"Why?" Angelina whispers. Her fingers twist the fabric of her gown. "You know this hurts more than going myself."

Ruby stares at her boots. Her toes dig into the silk lining of her shoes. "You have a crown to wear. I... I don't."

"You said no one should be a sacrifice!" Angelina's voice cracks.

Ruby's fingers curl into fists. She pictures Angelina's fire being snuffed out in a cold tomb in Châtelet. She shrugs.

"A coffin is just another bed," Ruby mutters. "I can nap anywhere."

She reaches out and hooks her arm through Angelina's.

"The King found a way," Ruby says. She forces her lips into a small, tight line. "I leave in sixty minutes. Help me get ready?"

"It's all the same to me. At least there won't be any more blind dates with Count Andrew."

Angelina says nothing. Her footsteps are leaden on the carpet.

The black silk of the wedding robe is ice-cold against Ruby's skin.

A maid drapes the jeweled veil over her head. The stones catch the candlelight, blurring Ruby's vision into a mess of fractured light.

Powder puffs against her cheeks. The silver comb scrapes her scalp.

Ruby stares into the gilded mirror. Behind her reflection, Angelina stands like a statue.

A single tear tracks through the rouge on the Princess's cheek. Then another.

Ruby's throat tightens. Her own eyes sting. She blinks hard, watching the mirror until the world turns to water.