Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 430: Chapter 430

Mirelle bowed deeply in apology, her head lowered in deference. "Forgive me, Your Highness. It won’t happen again."

"See that it doesn’t," Circe replied, her voice clipped, sharper than she intended.

"It won’t," Mirelle responded immediately, almost too quickly, as though eager to appease her. "Should I have your breakfast brought in here for you?"

But Circe could hardly muster any appetite. Even the thought of food made her stomach churn.

"That won’t be necessary," she said and the dismissal in her tone was unmistakable.

Mirelle bowed once more before picking up the tray and quietly exiting the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Silence settled in her chambers once more.

Circe planned on stepping outside once she felt even marginally better. She had remained in her room for hours after Mirelle left, drifting in and out of sleep, and by the time she finally pushed herself out of bed, it was already well into the afternoon. The sunlight streaming faintly through her windows had shifted, casting long, slanted shadows across the floor.

Fresh air would do her good, she was certain of it. But the moment her feet touched the ground and she straightened, a sudden, sharp ache tore through her lower abdomen. It was so intense, so abrupt, that it forced the breath from her lungs. She doubled over slightly, her hand flying instinctively to her stomach as a strained gasp escaped her lips.

The pain lingered, pulsing, before gradually easing just enough for her to move again.

She didn’t understand why she felt this horrible. Perhaps she truly was sick. Perhaps she needed to speak to Nieah about it, perhaps she even needed to be examined by a physician, just to be certain.

She forced herself to breathe through the discomfort until the pain dulled into something more bearable.

One step. Then another. She made her way slowly toward the door. By the time she reached the foyer, her strength had already begun to wane. Her vision swam faintly at the edges, and just as she tried to steady herself against the wall, she stumbled, colliding unexpectedly into Nieah.

"Oh, there you are," Circe said, her voice quieter than usual. "Did my mother finish her breakfast this time?" she added as she drew closer, lowering her voice so that no one else would overhear. The words were meant for Nieah alone.

Nieah shook her head. "I’m afraid she didn’t. But she ate more than she did yesterday."

Circe let out a soft sigh. Then she chose to change the subject. "Mirelle brought my tea this morning. It was somehow worse than the others she’s made before."

Even speaking felt like a chore now, her voice strained under the weight of her discomfort.

Nieah frowned, confusion knitting her brows together. "Are you sure it tasted bad, Your Highness? I had a sip of it before she brought it to you, and it tasted just fine."

Then Nieah truly looked at her. At the unnatural pallor of her skin, drained of its usual vitality. At the faint sheen of sweat gathered along her forehead. At the way her skin looked clammy. Each detail she noticed made her even more concerned.

Nieah’s expression shifted immediately, worry flooding her features.

"Your Highness... are you alright? You don’t look well," she said, her voice laced with growing alarm.

Circe’s first instinct was to downplay it. It was what she always did whenever she felt unwell, especially when she didn’t want to burden little Rowen with worry. The habit was so deeply ingrained that it rose to her lips before she could stop it. But before she could even speak, another sharp ache lanced through her. This one was so much worse.

It tore through her abdomen with brutal force, causing her body to fold forward as though she had been struck. A broken sound escaped her, and her knees threatened to give way beneath her.

She might have collapsed completely if Nieah hadn’t caught her in time.

Another violent wave of nausea followed almost immediately, crashing over her like a tide. Her vision spun, the world tilting dangerously out of place.

"Your Highness?" Nieah called, panic beginning to creep in as she gently tapped Circe’s cheek, trying to rouse her. "Your Highness?"

Circe’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

The pain was blinding and unbearable. It felt like a roaring fire spreading across her belly, devouring everything in its path, leaving nothing but agony in its wake. She could scarcely think, scarcely breathe.

Seeing how unresponsive she had become, a cold, heavy dread settled deep in Nieah’s chest.

Something was terribly wrong.

Without hesitation, she called out for help, her voice sharp and urgent. She tightened her hold on Circe, doing her best to keep her upright, to keep her from collapsing entirely.

Moments later, two guards came sprinting toward them.

One of them immediately stepped forward, quickly lifting Circe’s nearly limp form into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder as a faint, pained groan slipped past her lips.

The pain was too much. It felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The guard carrying her turned and rushed back toward her chambers, his steps hurried while Nieah and the other guard followed closely behind, their movements tense with urgency.

Circe could hear their panicked voices but the words themselves blurred together, distant and distorted, as though she were hearing them from underwater.

She was slipping. Slowly and helplessly, she felt herself being pulled deeper into an unbearable abyss she couldn’t fight her way out of. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Staying awake hurt. Even the simple act of existing felt like agony. She just wanted it to stop.

Dimly, she felt herself being laid down on something soft, and she realized, through the haze of pain, that they had reached her chambers.

Then, suddenly, a sharp gasp cut through the air.

"Your Highness, you’re bleeding!"

The voice sounded like Nieah’s, but Circe could no longer be certain. Her mind felt as though it were splintering apart under the sheer weight of the pain.

"Quick, one of you, ride into town and fetch a physician. Hurry!" Nieah ordered, her voice sharp, fear threading through every word. Both guards wasted no time as they rushed out of the room as though they were being chased, hurrying to carry out her command.

A moment later, Circe felt a gentle touch brush against her cheek.

"You are going to be fine, Your Highness. I will make sure of that," Nieah murmured, her tone soothing despite the storm of worry rising within her. Deep down, however, a creeping suspicion had already begun to take shape, one that filled her chest with even more dread.

Still, she remained at Circe’s side, refusing to let that fear show. She did what little she could—tender gestures meant to offer comfort. She wiped the sheen of sweat from Circe’s forehead with a damp cloth and once she was done, she clasped Circe’s hand in hers, holding it firmly. All the while, she spoke in a low voice, offering reassurances, reminding Circe that she was not alone.

Time stretched unbearably. Each second dragged into the next, heavy with anticipation, until it felt as though hours had passed when, in truth, only a few minutes had gone by. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Then, at last, a knock came at the door.

Nieah released Circe’s hand at once and hurried across the room, nearly breaking into a run. Relief surged within her, until she pulled the door open and found, to her dismay, that it was not the person she had been expecting.