CHAPTER 20: FINALLY, A PRINCESS WHO IS TRULY A PRINCESS!

A red flash, and Ayra’s magic teleports us straight into the heart of Noxscura.

Damn... it’s nothing like I imagined.

It doesn’t look gothic, nor like some medieval-style fantasy city.

Up until now, every place I’d seen had that old-fashioned vibe: Ayra’s room, the Lunae Novae dorm, the arena for familiar battles. All of them antique in feel.

But the center of Noxscura is the exact opposite.

If I didn’t know I was on N’Raeth, I’d swear I’d just landed in Midtown Manhattan.

Towering skyscrapers with glass facades rise over huge boulevards, lined with violet-leafed trees like the ones near the lake.

That purple shade must be a trademark of Mildelar’s flora.

The biggest difference is the silence.

While New York is buzzing with life and noise, the streets of Noxscura are strangely quiet.

There are no motor vehicles, and the number of vampires walking around is tiny compared to the endless crowds of Manhattan—maybe just a few hundred at most.

Ayra and I walk toward the center of a vast square, stopping near a massive monument carved from dark stone: an armored knight with water flowing from his sword—basically, a giant fountain.

«Welcome to Primus Rex Square, the heart of Noxscura,» Ayra declares proudly.

Primus Rex Square... I can’t help but be dazzled, my eyes wide with wonder.

I doubt any human square could rival this in beauty.

The ancient elegance of the fountain and surrounding buildings blends perfectly with the modern vibe of Noxscura—it has a charm comparable only to the historic center of Rome.

Well, considering N’Raeth is a parallel world, it makes sense their technology wouldn’t necessarily be behind ours.

Four bodyguards accompany us, dressed in dark gray tunics embroidered with a complex red symbol—too intricate to put into words, a fusion of geometric shapes and magical runes.

According to Ayra, that’s the emblem of the Scarlet Army.

As we move forward, every gaze locks onto us.

Vampires, noble or not, stop to stare, whispering words of admiration—some for Ayra, the princess of the realm, but mostly for me.

The legend of the Predestined Familiar must have spread across the kingdom at record speed.

I won’t lie—being recognized like this is electrifying.

It feels like I’m some Hollywood actor striding down the red carpet, surrounded by fans.

So this is what fame feels like? Damn, it’s awesome!

Ayra’s lively voice snaps me out of my silent awe for the city.

Today she’s wearing a long white fur coat and matching heels.

I have to admit—the white doesn’t suit her much, but maybe that’s just because I’m used to seeing her dressed all in black.

«Big Sis, we’re here!» Ayra exclaims, waving her hand energetically toward—presumably—Daphne.

At her gesture, a small group approaches us.

There are six of them: four bodyguards dressed like ours, forming a square around the other two.

In the center stands a young man who can’t be older than twenty-five.

Tall and lean, with a toned athletic build, silver hair, and piercing blue eyes.

And I’ll admit it... damn, he’s hot! So hot that, for a second, I actually question my own straightness.

Beside him is Daphne—a woman breathtaking even by vampire standards.

Long golden curls, an aura of refinement and grace that radiates with just a glance.

She wears the same white fur coat and heels as Ayra, but—unlike my mistress—on her they look divine.

I doubt their matching outfits are a coincidence.

When our groups meet, the usual introductions follow.

Daphne Volkom, thirty-three, eldest daughter of Viktor, and her familiar, Kajetan Volkom.

Daphne seems genuinely pleased to meet me, though her enthusiasm stays contained, in line with her refined demeanor.

Kajetan, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.

He just gives a cold, detached, «Nice to meet you» spoken with a heavy German accent.

Kajetan isn’t wearing the typical blue familiar tunic.

Instead, he has on tight jeans and a sleeveless brown leather jacket over a white T-shirt.

It’s strange to see a human dressed this way, especially since Ayra has often told me vampires are strict about their familiars’ dress code.

So why is Kajetan allowed to break it?

«Big Sis, where do we start with the shopping?» Ayra asks, barely containing her excitement to dive into the countless boutiques along the main street.

Honestly, I feel like her thrill has less to do with shopping and more with Daphne’s presence.

She hangs on every word with almost religious reverence, as if watching a goddess or a legendary heroine.

«How about we take a look at that new hat shop? It just opened and everyone’s raving about it,» Daphne suggests with a gentle smile.

Her voice is so sweet and melodic it sends shivers down my spine—I never thought a vampire could sound so angelic.

Dressed head to toe in white, with golden curls cascading in waves and her cheeks faintly flushed against her pale skin... if not for her blood-red eyes, she could pass for an angel fallen from heaven.

No wonder Ayra worships her, even imitating her outfits and posture.

The two sisters walk arm in arm, while Kajetan and I follow closely behind, each beside our mistress.

From here, I get a clear view of Daphne’s composed, graceful stride—the first of Viktor’s daughters I’ve met who truly carries herself like a princess.

And then there’s Ayra, trying desperately to mimic her elegance... but with pretty questionable results.