©Novel Buddy
My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 111: Princess Blood Lineage
The chant of "Blood God" slowly faded, not because their faith weakened, but because something far more immediate gripped their minds.
A tall vampire near the front row raised his hand, his voice trembling yet loud enough to carry. "Ancestor Ghurn... what you are saying... is it true?"
Another followed quickly, unable to hold back. "Is Lady Cornelia’s bloodline... at Duke level?"
The word Duke rippled through the hall like a thrown stone breaking the surface of still water.
"Duke?"
"Did he mean Duke?"
"That is the level just beneath the Royal line."
"Are you saying she has reached Duke?"
Voices overlapped, collided, and rose higher and higher as the crowd tried to grasp the possibility. Duke bloodline meant authority that rivaled entire clans. Duke bloodline meant that Moonshade would no longer merely survive in the shadows of greater houses, but stand shoulder to shoulder with them.
"Ancestor, answer us!"
"Is it Duke?"
"Tell us plainly!"
The ancestors seated behind Rivik exchanged glances. None of them spoke at first. Their expressions remained composed, yet there was a faint glimmer of amusement in their ancient eyes. Ghurn folded his arms, tilting his head slightly as if enjoying the rising storm.
"Well..." he began slowly, dragging out the word in a way that made the crowd lean forward. "You think it is Duke?"
"Yes!" several shouted immediately.
"It must be!"
"It cannot be anything less!"
"Say it, Ancestor!"
Ghurn stroked his chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider. "Duke bloodline is... respectable."
"Respectable?" someone repeated, nearly choking on the word.
"Respectable?" another echoed, incredulous.
"Yes, respectable," Ghurn repeated calmly. "Strong. Rare. Worthy of admiration."
"Then it is Duke!" a young vampire near the middle cried out, his eyes shining with excitement.
Others picked up the cry.
"Duke!"
"Duke!"
"Lady Cornelia has Duke bloodline!"
The chant grew, swelling into a wave of hopeful certainty.
"Duke!"
"Duke!"
"Duke!"
Some even dropped to one knee again, their voices shaking with emotion. To them, this was already more than enough. Duke was not just a title. It was security. It was power. It was future generations safe from humiliation.
"Ancestor Ghurn!" a woman shouted from the side. "Confirm it! Please!"
Ghurn remained silent.
The silence stretched again.
The crowd began chanting louder, almost pleading now.
"Duke!"
"Duke!"
"Duke!"
The sound reverberated against the high ceiling, filling every corner of the Blood Tower Main Room. Vampires looked at Cornelia with reverence, awe, even envy. Some covered their mouths. Others pressed their hands over their hearts.
"Moonshade rises!"
"With Duke bloodline, we are untouchable!"
The noise grew so intense that even the chandeliers seemed to tremble slightly.
Finally, Ghurn raised his hand.
"Nah."
The single syllable dropped into the chaos like a stone into fire.
The chant faltered.
"Ah?"
"Nah?"
"What does that mean?"
A wave of confusion passed through the hall.
"Oh," someone muttered slowly. "So... she surpassed Marquis... but did not quite reach Duke?"
"Yes, that must be it."
"That makes sense."
"Even reaching beyond Marquis is already miraculous."
The murmuring resumed, softer now but long and restless. Vampires leaned toward each other, whispering explanations.
"It is still incredible."
"Beyond Marquis alone secures us for generations."
"Duke was too much to hope for."
"Yes, yes, we were too greedy."
They nodded among themselves, slowly calming down, accepting what they believed to be the truth. Some even sighed with relief, as if reassuring themselves that they had not let their hopes climb too high.
Cornelia stood in the center of the light, her face composed, though her thoughts were far from steady.
She could feel it.
He was here.
Cain.
Not in the open, not where others could see him, but somewhere among the crowd. The bond within her blood stirred faintly, reacting to his presence like a tide pulled by a hidden moon.
Her eyes moved slightly toward the back rows.
There.
For a fleeting moment, she caught sight of him.
He stood casually, hands behind his back, watching the spectacle with an expression that seemed half amused and half weary.
Here we go again, what a bunch of nonsense, he thought lazily, though he did not speak the words aloud.
Cornelia’s heart tightened.
She still felt uneasy around him.
Yesterday, she had not fully understood what he did. She only knew that something immense had passed through her, through her blood, through the very foundation of her being. It was as if the plane itself had trembled for a heartbeat. Even now, when she tried to sense the flow of energy in the air, it felt... altered.
Not broken.
Not unstable.
Just... changed.
And she knew the change came from him.
Fear lingered in her chest, quiet but persistent.
Back on stage, Ghurn blinked as he listened to the murmurs spreading like vines across the hall.
"Huh?" he said suddenly, looking genuinely confused. "You are all assuming?"
The murmurs faltered.
"What?"
"Assuming what?"
Ghurn spread his hands in disbelief. "Who said it did not reach Duke?"
The hall froze.
"But... you said nah..."
"Yes," Ghurn replied impatiently. "I said nah to Duke being the answer."
The silence that followed was so deep it felt almost physical.
"You mean..." a vampire whispered, his lips barely moving.
Ghurn sighed dramatically. "Although Duke bloodline is high," he said slowly, enunciating every word, "it is a little bit low compared to Cornelia’s bloodline."
No one moved.
No one breathed.
The sound of a single drop of melted wax hitting the floor from a nearby candle echoed clearly, absurdly loud in the stunned stillness.
Faces turned pale.
Mouths fell open.
Eyes widened so much that they seemed almost unnatural.
A young vampire near the front staggered back a step, gripping the shoulder of the person beside him. "Low... compared to hers?"
Another shook his head repeatedly, as if trying to wake from a dream. "That cannot be right."
"Did he just say... Duke is low?"
An older noblewoman covered her mouth with trembling fingers, her sharp nails digging into her skin. "If not Duke... then..."
The thought was too large to speak.
Behind them, someone let out a faint, strangled laugh, the kind that came from disbelief rather than humor.
Cain watched all of this unfold with a faint smirk.
There it is, he thought quietly.
He did not interfere.
He did not comment aloud.
He simply observed.
Cornelia felt his presence more clearly now, and though it brought her a strange sense of steadiness, it also reminded her of the vast gap between what the others saw and what truly existed.
The vampires began whispering again, but this time their voices were thin, almost fearful.
"Ancestor... are you certain?"
"Please do not jest with us."
"This concerns our entire future."
"Are you absolutely sure?"
Several looked toward the other ancestors seated behind Rivik, seeking confirmation.
The other elders nodded slowly, one by one, their expressions solemn.
Ghurn nodded as well, more firmly this time. "Yes, yes," he said. "Her bloodline is not between Duke and Marquis. It surpasses Marquis entirely."
The words seemed to drain the strength from the crowd.
No one cheered.
No one shouted.
They simply stood there, frozen, trying to grasp the scale of what they were hearing.
Beyond Duke meant stepping into territory reserved for royal lines, for those whose blood carried ancient authority that few dared to challenge.
A man near the center whispered hoarsely, "That level... only legends speak of it."
Another swallowed hard. "Are we dreaming?"
One vampire actually pinched his own arm, wincing when pain answered him.
"It is real," he muttered.
The hall remained suspended in disbelief.
Ghurn looked at their stunned faces, their wide eyes and slack jaws, and a satisfied grin spread across his face.
He lifted his chin proudly and finally declared, his voice ringing like a bell across the silent chamber.
"It is Princess."
The word echoed.
Princess.
And Ghurn stood there, utterly satisfied by the shock carved across every face in the grand hall.







