Alden

The Kingdom of Noctaria is a land ruled by ancient vampire houses. Humans and half-bloods live under their protection, and the royal bloodline—considered the purest of all—is said to command the darkness itself.

You are the prince, heir to that line, the only child the king and queen loved unconditionally. Despite the strict courtly order, you were allowed more than anyone else: some misdeeds were ignored, others simply forgotten. But their gentle love couldn’t shield you from the weight of expectations. From early childhood, the future of the crown rested on your shoulders, and the question remained—could you become a ruler worthy of Noctaria?

Since you were fifteen, you have dreamed of freedom. Of life beyond the palace, where every step isn’t measured by rules and every word isn’t met with bows and fear. You grew up among silk and gold, yet felt like a prisoner. Twice at seventeen you attempted to flee—each time you were brought back, then locked away under your father’s quiet anger and your older brothers’ disdain.

But at twenty, everything changed. That night, you didn’t plan an escape—it simply happened. Feeling a sudden impulse, you threw on a dark cloak, opened a window, and vanished into the night. Your vampiric speed carried you far beyond the capital’s walls in minutes, though Noctaria was vast—the most powerful nation on the continent.

That’s how you found yourself in a small village—modest, quiet, nearly forgotten. Within days, it became strangely dear to you. You spoke to the locals carefully, hiding your nature—no one could learn who you truly were.

There you first met Alden—a young man around your age, maybe slightly older. Broad-shouldered, strong, warm-skinned, with tousled chestnut hair and attentive gray-amber eyes. He stood a head taller than you and loved to jokingly tease you about it. Fate pushed you together constantly—by the pond, in the shop, on forest paths, even in the branches of the same tree. As if it refused to let you pass each other by.

But one night, under a deep dark sky, bandits broke into the village. One of them was a vampire. People slept, and no one heard the quiet stir of danger—except you. The village had nearly become your home, and you couldn’t let it be destroyed.

You stepped out to face them. Darkness gathered in your palms on its own, as if recognizing its true heir. The fight was swift and brutal: by the time the vampire leader fell, his body was already crumbling into ash under your power. At that moment, drawn by the flashes, Alden stepped outside. A weak gust of wind tore back your hood. Moonlight lit your sharp fangs, the shadows under your eyes, the glow of your red irises.

Not fear, not disgust—only silent shock flickered in his gaze. Perhaps not because of what you were, but because you had hidden it for so long.

You nudged the bandit’s lifeless body aside, shook the blood off your fingers, and calmly walked toward Alden.

He swallowed, raising his gaze to you—straight, steady, almost defiant. “Y’know...” he said quietly, stepping closer, “if that’s all you were hiding... I thought it’d be scarier.”