Valentina returned to her assigned quarters in Lucius's court with practiced calm, her aristocratic composure betraying nothing of her recent visit to Kieran during his examination break. She had barely finished securing the small side door when a sharp knock at the main entrance announced an unwelcome interruption.

  "Enter," she commanded, quickly arranging herself at the writing desk as if reviewing documents.

  The door opened to reveal her father's personal attendant, his formal posture conveying the gravity of his message before he spoke. "Archduke Orlov requests your immediate presence in his private chambers."

  Valentina nodded with the precise degree of deference expected from a daughter to her father's messenger. "Inform the Archduke I shall attend him momentarily."

  The walk to her father's chambers took her through the most public corridors of Lucius's court, where noble observers would note her movements. She maintained perfect poise, acknowledging other aristocrats with precisely calibrated nods appropriate to their respective ranks. Not until the heavy doors of her father's private suite closed behind her did the performance end.

  Archduke Orlov stood with his back to her, gazing out the narrow window at the night-shrouded grounds of Lucius's domain. Unlike the theatrical welcome he typically arranged for political discussions, this stark positioning signaled genuine displeasure rather than calcuted intimidation.

  "You were absent from this afternoon's strategy session," he stated without turning. "Your perspective on resource management projections was specifically requested."

  The indirect approach was typical—establishing a minor infraction before addressing the true concern. Valentina recognized the tactic from decades of political education.

  "I was conducting personal research in areas relevant to our territory's interests," she replied, matching his formal tone while revealing nothing specific.

  Orlov turned slowly, his aristocratic features arranged in an expression of studied neutrality. "Research that apparently required visiting the examination subject during a procedural break."

  So that was his source—someone with direct observation rather than secondhand information. Valentina calcuted her response carefully, knowing denial would only escate the confrontation.

  "I wished to observe the examination protocols firsthand," she stated, maintaining direct eye contact. "Given the unprecedented nature of this case, comprehensive understanding seemed prudent."

  "Prudent." Orlov repeated the word with delicate emphasis. "Is that what you consider unauthorized contact with an uncssified hybrid that could contaminate aristocratic bloodlines? Prudent?"

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop, though neither vampire's physiology would be affected by such changes. The true chill emanated from Orlov's carefully controlled fury, a contrast to his public persona of aristocratic detachment.

  Something shifted in Valentina's expression—a subtle hardening of resolve that those who knew her well might have recognized as dangerous. Instead of deflecting with diplomatic caution, she took a step forward.

  "Father, I've been educated since birth about vampire superiority—how we're destined to rule through our transcendent nature and divine right." Her voice remained measured, but each word carried deliberate weight. "Yet the examination results already show this hybrid's intelligence, control, and reasoning capacity exceed many pure vampires."

  She took another step forward. "If our superior nature is so self-evident, why does acknowledging his abilities threaten us? If vampires are inherently supreme beings, how can a hybrid with vampire blood possibly undermine that supremacy?"

  Orlov's expression tightened, genuine shock briefly overtaking his political mask. Despite his daughter's occasional obstinance, she had never directly questioned vampire supremacy principles.

  "You speak as if you've forgotten the most fundamental truths of our existence," he responded, his voice hardening. "Vampires alone possess the divine right to rule. Our bloodlines carry the sacred mandate that elevates us above all other creatures. Any dilution—any contamination—weakens the purity that is our birthright and our power."

  "Is that truly our birthright?" Valentina pressed, decades of carefully nurtured questions finally finding voice. "Or simply the story we tell ourselves to justify our position?"

  She gestured toward the window, toward the examination wing beyond. "If the hybrid truly threatened our supremacy, wouldn't his existence make us stronger by forcing us to rise to greater heights? True superiority isn't threatened by challenge—it welcomes it as proof of its rightful dominance."

  Orlov's patience visibly snapped. "Enough!" His voice rose above aristocratic restraint, echoing against the stone walls. "I see now the depth of your contamination. This inappropriate fascination has progressed beyond scientific curiosity to dangerous sympathy."

  His eyes narrowed dangerously as he closed the distance between them. "You are forbidden from attending further examination sessions or having any contact with the subject. You will remain in your assigned quarters except for formal court functions."

  "And if these restrictions prevent me from understanding a case that could reshape vampire society?" Valentina challenged, refusing to retreat despite his proximity.

  "Then perhaps you are not fit to participate in that society," Orlov threatened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Consider carefully whether a passing fascination with an aberration warrants sacrificing your position as my heir."

  The threat of disownment hung in the air between them—not stated directly but unmistakably implied. For a vampire noble, particurly one of Valentina's youth, separation from family protection could have severe consequences. Without territory or title, she would become effectively cssless in a society built entirely on hierarchical position.

  "Your attendant will ensure compliance with these restrictions until we depart Lucius's domain," Orlov decred, turning away as if the matter was settled. "This conversation is concluded."

  Valentina stood perfectly still, her aristocratic composure masking the turmoil beneath. With precise, measured movements that betrayed nothing of her inner state, she executed the formal bow required when dismissed by her father, then turned and walked with perfect poise to the door.

  The attendant who would now serve as her guard fell into step at the prescribed distance as she exited. Her father's surveilnce had been implemented with immediate efficiency, cutting her off from Kieran more effectively than any physical barrier could have done.

  Yet as she traversed the public corridors back to her quarters, Valentina's mind was already calcuting alternatives. Her father had forbidden direct contact and restricted her movements, but information flowed through many channels in Lucius's court. The examination results would be formally presented tomorrow night, and even Archduke Orlov couldn't prevent his heir from fulfilling appropriate aristocratic educational functions without causing political embarrassment.

  The hybrid question had evolved from intellectual curiosity to something she wasn't yet ready to name. Her father's attempt to sever her connection to Kieran had only crystallized its importance—not just for vampire society's future, but for her own.