Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 119: Chapter 119

As Lord Tomar put an end to the brawl and the guards dragged him away, Hairan could feel the weight of many eyes pressing against his back. The gathered spectators gawked at him openly, their hushed whispers slithering through the crowd like a restless tide.

He didn’t need a mirror to know how pitiful he must have looked. His once impeccable clothes were now caked with dirt, the fine embroidery torn in several places.

His hair, usually styled with meticulous care, was a tangled mess, matted with streaks of blood that trickled down from the gash on the side of his head.

When Ragnar had slammed his skull against the ground, it had burst open with a dull, wet crack. Now, sticky strands of hair clung to his temple and forehead, the faint coppery smell of blood clinging to him like a second skin.

Yet, disturbingly enough, beneath the disarray and the pain, there was an eerie calm to his face.

A faint, almost serene expression lingered there, betraying none of the hurt he should have felt. His movements were composed, his breathing steady, as he followed the guards’ instructions without protest.

There was no need to resist. He had already gotten everything he came for and perhaps even more than he expected. freewebnovel.cσ๓

A slow, ghostly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the thought. The ache in his body faded into the back of his mind, dulled by the quiet thrill of satisfaction coursing through him.

"Do you need help cleaning your wounds, your highness?" one of the guards escorting him asked, his tone uncertain, perhaps even wary.

Hairan gave a small shake of his head, his voice smooth but cold. "There won’t be any need for that."

Moments later, they reached his carriage. A footman leapt down from the driver’s perch, hastening to open the door, while the others guided Hairan toward it.

Hairan stepped inside the carriage without so much as a glance at them.

The door shut behind him, and the carriage lurched into motion almost immediately.

Inside, the dim interior smelled faintly of leather and rose oil. Hairan eased out of his coat, pressing the fabric against the wound to stanch the bleeding. Each throb of pain reminded him of Ragnar’s fury, the same uncontrollable temper he had once seen in armies on the battlefield.

When the carriage finally rolled to a stop in front of the palace, Hairan didn’t wait for the driver to come around. He pushed the door open himself and stepped out, ignoring the way his head spun for a brief moment.

At the sight of his approach, all the guards stationed by the palace entrance bowed their heads low in deference, holding their positions even after he passed.

Not one of them dared to meet his gaze. Their behavior alone was enough to confirm that word of his reinstatement had to have already spread throughout the palace.

He passed Azul in the courtyard on his way inside, pretending not to notice his brother until the latter fell into step beside him. The echo of their boots along the marble floor filled the otherwise quiet corridor.

And just like that, the good mood that had lingered in Hairan’s chest began to fade.

"You’re bleeding," Azul remarked, his tone deliberately casual.

"What makes you think I haven’t noticed?" Hairan shot back, irritation creeping into his voice. The last thing he needed tonight was Azul’s meddling. Experience had taught him that once Azul latched onto a topic, he rarely let it go.

Unfazed, Azul continued as if he hadn’t heard him. "Something tells me whoever did this to you had a good reason. You did something to deserve it, didn’t you?" His lips curved with faint amusement, his eyes glinting as he took in Hairan’s disheveled state.

Hairan kept walking, his strides long and determined. He was heading toward the physician’s station, hoping to get the wound on his head patched up. freewebnoveℓ.com

"I was at a ball hosted by an influential courtiers tonight," Hairan said flatly, hoping that would be enough to silence his brother’s probing. It wasn’t, unfortunately. Not even close.

Azul had always behaved like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out information. If Hairan didn’t tell him something now, he would find another way to uncover it later. Nothing stayed buried when Azul set his mind to it.

"So did you try to sleep with the host’s daughter or something?" Azul drawled.

Hairan’s lip curled in disgust at Azul’s question. "No," he said sharply.

When they reached the front of the physician’s quarters, he turned to face Azul for the first time that night. "I ran into Ragnar by accident. We had a rather enlightening conversation."

It was, of course, a lie. Nothing about that encounter had been accidental.

"And then he tried to split your skull open," Azul deadpanned, pointedly staring at the blood that still trickled lazily down Hairan’s face.

"A small price for a much greater reward. It all worked out in the end." Hairan replied smoothly.

Azul gave him a long, incredulous stare, as though trying to determine whether he was being serious.

"You know," he said after a beat, "most people have hobbies that don’t involve nearly getting themselves killed." Then a second later his tone shifted, humor slipping away as he took a step closer, lowering his voice. "What does this reward entail, Hairan? Tell me it has something to do with securing Father’s favor and the throne."

Hairan smirked faintly. "Wouldn’t you just love to know."

It was true that Azul had pledged to support his claim to the throne, but Hairan was no fool. Promises meant little when they came from someone like Azul. Trusting him would be as wise as keeping a viper as a pet.

"I would rather not lose half of everything I own to Jayran," Azul muttered. "So yes, I’d like to know."

"No one forced you to make that ridiculous wager," Hairan said coolly. "And frankly, I couldn’t care less. But I’ll tell you one thing," He paused, the corners of his lips twitching upward into something sharp and knowing. "It seems Ragnar has found himself a new weakness."

A derisive scoff left Hairan’s lips as he said the words. "You would think that after what happened to Luria, he would have learned his lesson. But no, he’s still the same fool he was ten years ago."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. For the first time that night, Azul didn’t respond. He only stared at his brother, his expression unreadable, as Hairan turned and walked into the physician’s station, slamming the door shut behind him.