Chapter 1: Blood Moon Destiny
1242words
When a call came from the courtyard, Elena hurried in, carrying a basin of clean water. She moved with light steps, seemingly oblivious to the whispers and sidelong glances from the other servants.
"An illegitimate daughter marries a duke's son, while the legitimate daughter is promised to a butcher—the world has truly turned upside down," an older maid muttered, her eyes gleaming with malice.
Another maid yanked her sleeve and hissed, "Hush! Don't let the Count hear you! Miss Isabella may be born of a concubine, but she's beautiful and charming. The Count dotes on her something fierce."
"That's right. Our eldest lady may be legitimate, but ever since she defied the Count... well..." She clicked her tongue with barely concealed delight, dramatically shaking her head.
Elena heard every word but merely gripped the water basin tighter and quickened her pace toward Isabella's chamber.
In Isabella's chamber, shadows from flickering candles danced across the walls, giving the luxurious room a dreamlike quality. Outside the window, the unusually large blood-red moon appeared and disappeared behind passing clouds, as if peering at everything inside.
Lady-in-waiting Marianne groomed Isabella, her fingers lightly tapping as golden sequins floated from her fingertips and settled on Isabella's hair, making it shimmer with a faint golden light.
"Left hand holding a war blade, right hand bearing an eagle shield, a nobleman's daughter shall surely bear a hero." Marianne softly recited the ancient blessing, each word carrying a strangely devout tone, as if willing the ancient words to manifest around Isabella.
Isabella sat before the mirror, carefully applying a sensual peach-colored rouge made from elf petals and moonlight water—a rare concoction known to enhance one's charm. Strangely, the Isabella in the mirror occasionally had a flickering gaze, as if another soul struggled within.
More unsettling was how Isabella's shadow seemed subtly out of sync with her movements; when she raised her hand, the shadow lagged half a beat behind; when she turned her head, the shadow moved a step ahead. In this realm, such anomalies typically heralded something ominous.
"Miss, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight," Marian admired, as the comb in her hand glided through Isabella's hair, each stroke making her tresses cascade more smoothly. "The Duke's son will surely be captivated when he sees you."
Isabella smiled slightly, but the expression never reached her eyes. In her gaze lurked a trace of cold amusement, as if she possessed a detached soul observing the world from a spectator's perspective.
"Marian, do you believe in fate?" Isabella suddenly asked, her voice soft as a whisper.
Marianne's hand paused, the comb hovering mid-stroke. "Destiny... is a web woven by invisible forces, and we are all butterflies caught in that web, my lady."
"Then what if someone wants to break free from this web?"
"Then," Marianne's voice dropped to a haunting whisper, "they will face terrible consequences."
Just then, the door opened, and Elena entered carrying a basin filled with water and rose petals. Delicate red petals floated on the water's surface, swaying as if alive. Her arrival shattered the room's heavy atmosphere.
She wore a deep blue gown with intricate patterns embroidered on the hem. Unlike Isabella's gentle beauty, Elena's was more striking—like an unsheathed sword, its sharpness fully exposed.
"Sister." Isabella smiled sweetly but remained seated. Elena nodded coldly.
"Sister, as a concubine's daughter marrying into the Duke's family, will I be mistreated?" Isabella asked pitifully, her fingers lightly disturbing the water's surface, causing the flower petals to dance. "Sister, could you accompany me to the Duke's mansion?"
Elena gently arranged Isabella's hair, her movements carrying a barely perceptible hostility, as if each touch was confirming the position of her prey.
"Have you forgotten? I've been promised to Robert the Butcher." A flash of dark red light passed through Elena's eyes, as eerie as the blood moon itself. "Father has already decided our fates."
"Father said things in anger. He might change his mind," Isabella replied naively, completely oblivious to the dangerous gleam in Elena's eyes.
Elena gently picked up a golden hairpin with a blood-red gemstone embedded in it. The gemstone glimmered with an ominous light under the lamplight. Elena looked at Isabella in the mirror, then suddenly made a swift, precise, and vicious slash across her face. Sparks flashed where the pin cut through, leaving a thin wound on Isabella's skin as blood slowly seeped out.
"My face! My face!" Isabella screamed in terror, covering the wound with her hand, but it was too late. The edges of the wound glowed with an unnatural dark red light—a mark of arcane damage that ordinary healing methods couldn't mend.
Isabella screamed and backed away. The candles flickered violently in response to her emotional turmoil, several extinguishing completely, leaving a scorched scent hanging in the air.
"I thought you had changed your ways, but I never expected you would still hold such hatred for me..." Isabella said tearfully, tears sliding down her cheeks, mixing with blood from her wound to form a strange mark.
Elena advanced, looming over Isabella with cold intimidation. Her eyes began turning blood red, as if some ancient power was awakening within her.
"I just don't understand why, when I'm better than you in every way, the Book of Fate still recognizes you as the protagonist. You've taken everything from me... by what right?" Elena's voice carried undisguised rage and jealousy.
"What Book of Fate? I don't know what you're talking about! What do you mean 'by what right'?" Isabella asked in confusion, her wound still bleeding.
"Can't you see it?"
Elena pointed toward the air, where prophecies from the Book of Fate appeared—words formed of blood-red energy burning in the air like crimson lightning.
"We are both merely puppets in the book of fate. But I, Elena, refuse to accept this destiny... If fate treats me unfairly, I will take what I want... The position of Duchess is destined to be mine." Elena's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, like words carried from the abyss.
As she spoke, the scar on Elena's face gradually receded, dark red energy flowing around the wound until it completely healed, leaving no trace. This self-healing ability was extremely rare, typically exhibited only by those with ancient bloodlines.
"Your... your scar... what kind of power is this?" Isabella asked in shock, having never witnessed such an eerie phenomenon.
"I return the scar to you, and reclaim my destiny," Elena said with a cold smile, lightly touching Isabella's wound, transferring the energy. Isabella's wound immediately deepened and grew more painful, while Elena's face was completely restored.
The candles in the room extinguished one after another, darkness surging in like a tide, swallowing all light. In this darkness, only Elena's eyes still flickered with an ominous red glow, transformed into two blood-colored gems. Then everything dissolved into empty darkness.
In a dark corner, an ancient tome opened in mid-air, the text on its pages formed of blood, slowly flowing: "Those who attempt to change fate... shall not meet a good end." The blood letters transformed into blood-red crows, flying from the pages, enveloping the darkness.
