The vampire prince's engagement ceremony lived up to the clan's legendary reputation. Even an engagement alone was executed with breathtaking grandeur. Not only did countless mysterious supernatural beings attend, but they also brought lavish gifts—a clear demonstration of respect.

Ella appeared in a vibrant red gown, her face flushed with excitement as she held Alexus's hand and walked into the expectant crowd. At last, she had achieved the position she had long dreamed of; her happiness was impossible to hide.

When her eyes fell on me, she tilted her head with a mocking smile and silently mouthed: Trash.

Yes, I was trash. But she was about to step into hell itself, so I wasn't sure which of us was more pitiable.

Her smile, however, was short-lived. Alexus pressed a cup of wine into her hand.

"Drink. In the presence of the elders, our engagement is now official."

My sister eagerly accepted it. Just as she raised the cup, a sharp metallic scent wafted from the wine. She froze in horror and instinctively flung the cup away. "Silver powder! There's holy silver in this wine!"

Holy silver was a witch's natural nemesis. Even a grand sorcerer with a millennium of experience could not withstand a sip of holy silver wine. It wouldn't kill, but it would temporarily nullify one's magic and confine the victim to months of agonizing illness—a living death.

In my previous life, I had faced the same situation, yet I never once thought of refusing. I knew my life was insignificant compared to the dignity of the entire vampire clan. To embarrass Alexus in front of so many would forever reduce our relationship to one of mere utility.

In the past, I had steeled myself and drunk it. The rest of the ceremony passed in a haze; my head felt heavy, my body sluggish. But Alexus did not care in the slightest. In his eyes, I was only a tool—a means to repay a debt and bear heirs. Who ever cared about a tool's feelings?

Ella, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, pouted and clung coquettishly to Alexus. "I won't drink this!"

She didn't notice the shadow that darkened his face. Surrounded by so many witnesses, he held back, his tone patient but firm. "Ella, this is an ancient vampire tradition. Don't be childish in front of everyone."

Ordinarily, anyone would yield when the high and mighty vampire prince spoke. But she seemed blind to the approaching danger, stubbornly refusing. "I don't care about this stupid tradition! Witches despise holy silver. I never want to see it again!"

Her words enraged the vampire elders present. To them, consuming an object that countered one's partner was a symbol of loyalty and submission. By refusing, my sister had publicly insulted them.

Some nobles quietly grumbled, questioning whether the bride understood her place—and even casting doubt on Alexus's judgment.

Alexus's patience snapped. "I'll say it once more. Drink it."

Ella froze, utterly shocked at his harshness. Trembling, she raised the cup of holy silver wine and downed it in one gulp.

But it was too late. The mood had already shifted, the ceremony's decorum disrupted. After completing the ritual, Alexus strode away, not sparing her even a glance.

Ella stood there, stunned. Just yesterday, they had shared tender, intimate moments—how could a single sip of wine ruin everything?

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. She was far too naive.

Nothing mattered to the vampires more than their reputation. A bride was merely a decoration, a tool to enhance the clan's image. She actually believed she could influence the prince's will?

Her "good life" had barely begun—and the real trials were still waiting.