My vampire queen.

3. In the heat of the moment

Emmy and Cosima got to the health center, and the short girl swallowed dryly. She still couldn't believe Emmy paid for therapy for her disabled legs. The older girl grinned and went inside with her, seeing a nurse and walking to her.

"Hello, I have a session today for Cosima Eviry." The nurse smiled warmly and led them to a private room where a therapist was waiting. Emmy sat down on the chair, and the young man walked to Cosima.

"Hello there." He grinned, and Cosima smiled back shyly, lowering her hazel eyes to her crutches. "Don't worry, we'll get rid of them in no time!" She had been using crutches for as long as she could remember, and the thought of being able to walk without them was almost too good to be true.

Then the therapy began. It's not relevant what they did, but it was painful, so much so that when they got home, Cosima cried for two whole hours, and Emmy didn't know what to do. She felt defeated and frustrated, wondering if all the pain and effort were even worth it.

☀︎

The queen sat at her desk with her legs crossed and gazed outside the window, tapping her fingers against her thigh. She hummed quietly and rolled her tongue under her sharp teeth, pulling her golden hair back.

She had actually been thinking for a while now, and she hadn't been able to fall asleep. Her perfect nose scrunched up in frustration when thinking about the string of bad words that escaped that young girl's lips.

"Cosima." The queen narrowed her golden eyes slightly, reaching for her cigarettes and placing one between her lips, lighting it up. She inhaled the smoke, and her chest tightened slightly. The burning sensation filled her lungs. "You're lucky I had pretended to not hear those words." She licked her dry lips, and her face twitched in that ethereal coldness. "I should punish you for those curses." The queen took another drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling around her like a protective shield. Despite her calm facade, anger simmered beneath the surface. Cosima would not be getting off that easily. "No one swears to my face and doesn't even apologize."

The queen doesn't even know what got her so frustrated with the girl in the first place, but she wants to put her in her place. Usually, she would've stayed nonchalant about the whole situation, but there's just something about this girl that annoys her to her bones. She had spent too long ruling with an iron fist to let some upstart teenager disrespect her in such a way.

Yes, the rumors were right; the queen had an empty heart. But that emptiness was what made her so powerful. It allowed her to make decisions without the burden of emotions clouding her judgment. And right now, her judgment told her that Cosima needed to be taught a lesson.

But not right now, whenever fate would push her into her claws again.

She took the cigarette out of her lips and flicked the ashes onto the ground, clearing her throat, spinning around on her heel, placing her large hand on the doorknob, and twisting it. She was quite thrown on the masculine side, for that matter.

She was tall—too tall for a normal woman—with broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Her hands were big, her fingers were long and thin, and overall, her body was imposing and powerful. Her face was feminine, either way, and she had that ethereal kind of beauty that never faded away.

Vampires die when they reach more than a century, and despite that, their bodies never get old; they remain with the bodies of a 25-year-old. Vanya would look the same age all the time now that she was almost 25.

She stepped out of the palace and walked slowly to the river at the border of the kingdom. The water was still flowing, crystal clear, and Vanya sighed, sitting down on the dry grass, her long, curly hair cascading down her back. She closed her eyes, taking in the peaceful sounds of nature around her. As a vampire, she often found solace in the quiet beauty of her surroundings, a stark contrast to the chaotic world she inhabited.