My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 66: Prestige

Cornelia stepped over Sevette’s motionless body without hesitation. Her boots brushed against the dried streaks of blood on the stone floor as if they were nothing more than dust.

"Hmm? I’m sure it’s around her."

She said, the she crouched briefly, not out of concern, but with the calm precision of someone retrieving something that had always belonged to her.

"Where could it be?"

Her fingers moved with practiced ease, slipping beneath Sevette’s torn cloak, past the hidden inner pocket sewn close to the ribs.

"Ah!"

There it was. Cold metal, heavy with authority and consequence.

"There you go."

The military token.

She pulled it free and stood upright, the red emblem catching the dim torchlight for just a moment before she closed her hand around it.

There was no triumph on her face, only certainty. This was the end of an argument that had gone on for too long.

"Come," she said flatly.

"Let’s go to the meeting Hall!"

Cain did not ask where. He did not ask why. His body moved before his thoughts could catch up, his legs following her as if pulled by an invisible thread. The guards did not stop them. No one dared.

As they walked, Cornelia slowed her pace just enough to fall in beside him. Then, without warning, her hand slipped into his. Not tentative. Not shy. Her fingers locked around his wrist and then slid down, intertwining with his hand, pulling his arm close to her body as if it had always been meant to be there.

Cain stiffened instantly. "Huh? What is this brute doing?" His shoulders went tight, his steps faltering for half a heartbeat.

She noticed.

"What?" Cornelia tilted her head slightly, eyes flicking up to his face with faint amusement. "You’re scared? You don’t want me clinging to you?"

Her grip tightened, deliberate, possessive.

Inside her mind, her thoughts were sharp and burning.

Hmmp. Overgod? You think you can just walk away? I won’t let you. I don’t care what you and we sisters did in the past. I don’t care how many sins you and we sisters carry. I won’t let you hurt my sister. Now that I’ve found a way, I’ll make you stay. As my husband. As long as I could protect them, I would do anything!

Cain swallowed.

"I’m just... not used to this," he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "But I’m fine. I like it... "

Cornelia smiled, slow and satisfied, her lips curving with quiet dominance. "Good. Good." She said happily. "Then from today onward, you need to get used to it."

She leaned closer as they walked, her shoulder brushing against his arm.

"Remember. I will compensate you. For everything. For the neglect. For the misunderstandings."

Cain’s skin prickled. He wanted to cough blood. Sweat began to bead along his temples, his heartbeat quickening in a way he did not like. He kept his eyes forward, jaw tight.

Inside his head, his thoughts spiraled freely. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

You brute ass woman. Although you’re nothing like Ivira. She’s a vixen, subtle and dangerous. You’re the same! A forcefull one! Damn it.

Cornelia heard every word.

Her smile sharpened. A quiet sneer curled at the corner of her mouth.

Hmmp.

They walked in silence after that, the air growing heavier with each step, until the corridor widened and opened before a massive door that dominated the far wall.

It was a royal vampiric gate, towering and ancient, carved from dark obsidian stone veined with crimson crystal. The surface was etched with scenes of conquest and blood rites, ancient vampires standing over kneeling armies, wings spread wide, crowns forged from bone and steel.

At its center was the sigil of House Moonshade, a bat-winged crest encircling a blood-red moon that seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive.

Two towering pillars flanked the door, each crowned with statues of armored vampire kings, their swords pointed downward, tips resting on the stone like silent judges. Braziers burned with crimson flame, casting long shadows that twisted and crawled across the floor.

Lined up before the door were blood guard knights in full armor, crimson steel polished to a mirror sheen, helms shaped like snarling beasts.

Behind them moved blood servants in dark robes, heads lowered, carrying trays of goblets and sealed containers. Blood slaves passed in and out through side entrances, eyes downcast, chains faintly clinking with each step.

One of the blood servants noticed Cornelia immediately.

She stiffened, then bowed deeply. "Lady Cornelia."

Her gaze flicked briefly to Cain, then passed over him entirely, as if he were nothing more than empty space, before she hurried on her way.

The temperature dropped.

Cornelia stopped.

Her grip on Cain’s hand tightened sharply.

"Why," she said slowly, her voice dangerously calm, "did you pass my husband without greeting him?"

The servant froze mid-step. Her face drained of color. She turned, trembling, and bowed again, this time so low her forehead nearly touched the floor.

"I I I apologize, Lady Cornelia. I I I did not realize—"

"You did not realize what?" Cornelia stepped closer, her shadow looming over the servant.

"That he is my husband? Do you know that disrespecting him is the same as disrespecting me?"

The surrounding guards stiffened. Servants stopped moving. Even the blood slaves slowed, fear rippling through them like a silent wave.

The servant’s lips quivered. "I serve under Elder Bofoy," she blurted out desperately. "I meant no offense. I only follow—"

Elder Bofoy.

The name echoed among those present. The ancient vampire elder who controlled the family’s food supply, whose authority was so entrenched that even Baron Rivik Moonshade had to tread carefully around him. His servants were known for their arrogance, for treating even nobles with thinly veiled disdain.

Cornelia’s eyes darkened.

"So," she said softly, "you think his name shields you." Her hand moved.

The slap echoed like a gunshot.

The servant cried out, her head snapping to the side, blood spraying from her lip as she collapsed to her knees.

"Forgive me!" she sobbed. "Please forgive me!"

Another slap.

"Look at him when you speak," Cornelia said coldly.

Another slap.

"You are a servant... A mere servant!"

Another slap.

"He is my husband."

Each strike was precise, controlled, carrying far more humiliation than pain. The servant’s face swelled rapidly, eyes watering, breath coming in broken gasps.

The blood guards watched in silence. The blood servants trembled. The blood slaves stared in stunned disbelief.

Cain stood there, frozen, watching it unfold. He felt dozens of eyes on him now. Not contempt.

Not indifference.

Fear.

And something else.

Recognition.

Cornelia grabbed the servant by the chin, forcing her to look up, swollen face streaked with tears and blood.

"From now on," Cornelia said, her voice ringing through the hall, "when you see him, you bow. When you speak to him, you show respect. If you do not, you are insulting me. Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, I understand!" the servant cried, nodding frantically.

Cornelia released her.

Then slapped her again, hard.

The servant collapsed unconscious onto the stone floor.

Cornelia turned back to Cain, her expression instantly softening as if nothing had happened.

"Husband," she said lightly, tugging his hand. "Let’s go."