Chapter 1
Poppy POV
Arya held up the wedding dress. "This is beautiful."
I touched it. The dress was beautiful. It was long and pure white, made of soft fabric. It was a traditional dress from our village. It had long sleeves that would cover my arms and neck. It was loose and decorated with small pearl beads around the neckline. The skirt of the dress was wide and full. It had a white belt around the waist.
I couldn't remember Jon having enough money to buy me such a beautiful dress. It was so beautiful, it frightened me.
"Is this really mine?" I asked.
"Yes," Arya nodded. "A gift from me. You don't have to wear that rag Jon bought for you."
Her words didn't sit well with me, but I couldn't say anything.
"This color suits your light blue eyes. And it has expensive pearls on it. I bought you new shoes too," she smiled. "Tonight, you'll look like a princess."
"Why do you spend so much? It's just a wedding. We'll need money later for food and other things later," I said.
"It's your wedding day. I need you to be happy," she said.
For a moment, I was silent. Arya was no stranger to this land. Winter had returned to our village, and with it came starvation. It had been two years, and everywhere was ice and cold. People were dying every day because there was no food. The crops refused to grow. The rivers were frozen. This was because the demons of the night—vampires—had returned. Rhain needed a new bride, and many young girls had been dying tragically every day.
"Why are you silent?" Arya moved closer. "Are you reconsidering marrying that farmer boy?"
"I love Jon," I looked up at her. No amount of words would change my mind about him. I had met Jon when I was twelve, and we had loved each other ever since. "He's going to be my husband. I was just thinking about what's happening in our village."
"Mhm."
"The winter is getting worse every day," I said.
"What do you think?"
"I think we should be more careful," I said. "Last night, I had a dream about him."
"Who?"
"The Vampire King."
Arya scoffed. "You still believe in that monster?"
"They do exist. I saw Rhain with my own eyes."
"That's just a night story Mama used to scare us. There are no vampires."
"What about the women dying every day?"
"It hasn't been proven that it's from some mythical creature," she said.
"And what about Aunt Isabella?" I asked. "She died trying to summon a vampire, and he killed her."
She moved closer. "How do you know it was a vampire that killed her?"
"The spell she used was a summoning one," I replied. "And don't forget about the two puncture wounds on her neck and wrist."
"It could've been a bear attack. Or any wild animal."
I didn't know where I got the boldness from, but when I opened my mouth, the words slipped out.
"Did the gods curse you with dumbness like they cursed the Vampire King?"
She frowned, and before I knew it, she was grabbing my chin tightly.
"Let go of me," I groaned as her sharp fingers dug into my skin.
"You little creature. Is this Jon's doing?" she asked.
I frowned, pushing her away, but her nails scraped my skin.
"Everything is all about Jon. Are you envious of my marriage to him?"
The slap came so fast, hitting my face hard and swinging my head to the side.
"You don't dare to hit me! You're not my mother!"
"And you don't speak to me like that," she snapped.
Before I could speak, the door opened and Mama walked in.
"What's going on?"
"Poppy is misbehaving again, Mama."
"Liar," I snapped. "Mama, she—"
"Stop it!" Mama yelled. "Both of you!"
I rubbed my cheek, which was burning from the slap.
"Everyone is waiting, and both of you are here fighting," Mama said. "The groom has arrived."
I frowned, lowering my gaze to the floor. "If only you knew what happened."
"And what happened?" Mama asked.
I exhaled. "She still thinks vampires aren't real, even though I've seen one."
"Both of you are no longer children," Mama said. "Poppy, you'll be getting married to Jon today. You are not a child."
She took a step back. "I'll send someone to help you get dressed."
"Yes," I replied. Once she was out of the room, I turned to Arya and stuck my tongue out at her.
She glared at me and walked away. That was how we always acted most times—fighting like we were still young.
When the door closed, I stood up from the stool and walked toward the window. The wind blew strong. As I stared far ahead, I wondered who would be the next victim tonight.