The Emperor’s Gate

❤️ The Emperor's Gate ❤️

Princess Nyxoria wasn’t surprised to see the guard and his horse riding alongside her. She pulled Penelope to a slow trot and turned her sharp gaze toward him, snorting in irritation.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the quiet road. "And your answer better be good, or I’ll be removing your head from your neck," she added with a venomous edge. Then, muttering mostly to herself, she said, "I don’t fucking need a babysitter."

The guard straightened in his saddle, trying his best to appear calm despite the way Nyxoria’s fiery gaze swept over him. "My princess," he began carefully, "the king asked me to follow you because… you might not know the way to the Emperor’s Castle."

Nyxoria’s glare intensified as his words sank in. She opened her mouth, ready to fire back an insult, but then paused. As much as it annoyed her to admit it, the guard was right—she had no idea where the Emperor’s castle was.

She let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing her arms briefly before gripping Penelope’s reins again. "You’re just lucky that I don’t know the way," she finally said, her tone begrudging. She gave the guard a sidelong glance, her expression still full of warning. "And you better be sure you do know the way. Because if you take a single wrong turn, one that doesn’t lead straight to that stupid castle, you’d better be prepared to meet your creator."

The guard nodded quickly, the tension in his shoulders clear as he avoided her direct gaze. "Yes, Princess. I promise, I know the way."

"Good," Nyxoria muttered, spurring Penelope into motion again. "Because I don’t have the patience for incompetence today."

The guard followed in silence, his heart pounding, but he dared not show it. He knew better than to test Nyxoria’s temper, especially when she carried a dagger at her side and a glare sharp enough to cut through him.

A few hours later, they arrived at the imposing first gate of the Emperor’s castle. A group of vampire guards stood watch, their presence immediately intimidating. The leader, a tall vampire with pale skin and cold, glowing red eyes, stepped forward, blocking their path.

"Who are you? What do you want? State your reason," the vampire demanded, his voice sharp and commanding. His piercing gaze made the guard beside Nyxoria stiffen, though he tried hard not to show his fear.

Nyxoria, however, was unfazed. She met the vampire’s gaze with a smirk and raised her chin slightly. "My name is Princess Nyxoria. The High King is my uncle. That’s all I’m obligated to tell you. As for what I want or my reason for being here," she said, pointing directly at the vampire, "you have no right to ask me those questions."

The vampire’s expression didn’t change. "Then you won’t be passing through. I won’t let you go in."

Nyxoria let out a sharp laugh, her tone mocking. It was a laugh that made the guard beside her glance nervously at her, then at the vampire. When her laughter abruptly stopped, her expression hardened, her face a mask of steely defiance.

"As much as I want to take you seriously," Nyxoria said, her voice low and cold, "I know you cannot stop me."

"Princess Nyxoria, please," the guard beside her interjected, his voice hurried as he tried to de-escalate the situation. "Let me handle this. We’re here to see the Emperor," he added quickly, hoping to prevent her from making matters worse.

The vampire didn’t budge. "The Emperor didn’t inform us of any visitors today," he replied, his tone icy. "And besides, you two are not fit to enter the Emperor’s castle, so no, you are not entering, better turn back and go back to where it is that you came out from."

Nyxoria sighed loudly, rolling her eyes in dramatic frustration. "So what you’re saying is, you’d rather do this the hard way?"

"There is no hard way," the vampire replied, his voice sharp with warning. "Turn back and leave now."

Nyxoria tilted her head slightly, her smirk returning, but this time it carried a dangerous edge. "You must not know who I am," she said softly, her hand brushing against the hilt of her dagger. The tension between them crackled in the air, and even the guard beside her took a hesitant step back, his eyes darting nervously between Nyxoria and the vampire.

"And even if I do know you, I still won’t allow you to pass through the gate without the Emperor's permission," the vampire said, his voice dripping with authority.

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Nyxoria moved with lightning speed leaping off from her horse in one fluid motion. In an instant, she stood in front of the tall vampire, their matching heights making her presence even more intimating.

Her lips curled in a devilish grin. With a swift, precise motion, she drew her dagger and slashed through his neck. The blade was so sharp, her movement so fast, that by the time the other vampires realized what had happened, Nyxoria was already back on her horse.

The dagger was sheathed, but her hand wasn’t empty. Clutched in her fingers was the severed head of the vampire that had been talking to her. His black hair dangled as she held the head like a grim trophy.

The headless body crumpled to the ground with a dull thud, blood pooling around it.

The silence that followed was deafening, the kind of silence that only accompanies sheer, bone-chilling fear. It was as if the air around them froze. The other vampires stood frozen, their red eyes wide with shock, their pale faces devoid of any expression but fear. The only sound was the faint rustle of the wind and the drip of blood from the lifeless body.

"Now," Nyxoria said, her voice cold and commanding as she held the severed head up, "can I pass?"

One of the remaining vampires snapped out of his trance and scrambled toward the gate. He moved with such speed and desperation that it made Nyxoria chuckle darkly.

She tossed the severed head to the ground, watching it roll a few feet before stopping close to its body. She didn’t bother to destroy the body or head—she knew the vampire would regenerate soon enough. She wasn’t here to cause a war, not today.

"You all should know by now," she said, her tone almost playful but carrying an undercurrent of menace, "that Princess Nyxoria always chooses the hard way."

With that, she urged Penelope forward. The guard accompanying her looked pale, his knuckles white as he gripped the reins of his horse, but he followed without a word.

The second and third gates were opened without question.

As they passed through the final gate, the imposing sight of the Emperor’s castle loomed ahead. It's dark stone walls seemed to absorb the light, and its towering spires reached toward the heavens like jagged claws. The air grew colder, heavier.

Nyxoria smirked to herself, her confidence unshaken as she approached the looming castle.

A simple sorry, and that’s it, she thought, her lips curling into a sly grin. Apologize, leave, and be done with this whole mess.

The weight of the situation didn’t seem to faze her, at least not outwardly. Her demeanor was calm, almost casual, as if she were merely strolling into a routine encounter. Yet deep down, a small part of her wondered how the Emperor would react. Would he accept her apology? Or would he make things… complicated?

Either way, Nyxoria was prepared—for a simple way, or for the hard way.