Months had passed since the Senate hearing, just enough time for things to settle and for people to start talking again.
It didn't begin loudly.
It never did of course.
Rumors slipped into conversations, lingered in passing remarks, hid behind polite smiles and unfinished sentences.
But this one spread faster than most.
The D'Arcels were preparing.
Some said it was soon. Others said it had already been decided. No one said it outright, but everyone understood what it meant.
The succession ceremony is afoot.
Within the Witching Hour, the word carried weight.
Not fear exactly, but something close to it.
The D'Arcels had long held their place as the representatives of the vampires. A succession ceremony meant Lucien would soon be replaced—a position he had carried for centuries. And yet, when vampires spoke of succession, it never felt like a simple passing of the title.
There was always something beneath it.
Something they refused to explain.
The Senate had heard it too, of course. They always did. But unlike the rest, they didn't let it show.
Discussions continued as if nothing had changed, as if there wasn't something shifting beneath everything.
"You've all heard it by now, yes?" one of the witches of the senate muttered, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.
"The D'Arcels aren't even being subtle about it. They're preparing in the open."
A brief silence followed before another spoke, quieter this time.
"…We're actually going to see it."
That drew a few glances.
"The succession," a witch by the sides added. "In our lifetime. How exciting"
Another let out a faint breath, something between disbelief and unease.
"It's been what? Centuries since the last one?"
"No recorded witness outside their kind," someone else said.
"Not directly. I've heard some were lucky enough back then. Well, to be fair, they were close confidants."
A pause settled over them.
"…And now they're letting it happen where we can see it."
No one said anything after that. Because that was the part that didn't sit right.
At the center, Mildred Rossi remained still, her gaze unreadable.
"Let them," she said simply.
No elaboration. No concern in her tone. But that didn't mean she wasn't watching. "Besides, a party's a party. It's a nice change of pace."
Outside the Senate, things were far less controlled. Support began to form around the different heirs. Quiet at first, then more openly. Names aligned with names, families with heirs, influence shifting before the ceremony had even begun.
Then someone spoke up.
Publicly.
"I'll support Marielle's line."
The statement spread almost instantly. It came from Persephone, spoken plainly during a gathering between families—a tea party, if one wanted to call it that.
There was no hesitation in her voice. She had said the same thing months ago, back when she and Charlotte met at the Lunarium. Now, she was following through.
"If her child takes the seat, I'll stand with them."
That alone stirred movement.
Persephone didn't speak unless she meant it, and once she did, others followed. Not loudly, not all at once, but enough to be noticed. Charlotte didn't stay quiet either. Of course she didn't.
"You're overthinking it," Charlotte said one afternoon, watching the blood gather in Theodore's palm.
It held steady, shaped cleanly, moving the way he wanted it to. He had already grown past the once-weak and frail Theo to become a happy, joyful person.
Theodore glanced at her.
"…It's fine."
Charlotte took a sip of her coffee.
"It is. But you're making it harder than it needs to be."
He didn't respond right away.
The blood shifted slightly, reacting with him instead of against him.
"…Then what?" he asked.
Charlotte tilted her head a little.
"Stop treating it like it's a separate entity from you."
A small pause.
"It's already yours. Let it move the way it wants to."
The change wasn't obvious at first.
Then the blood settled—not tighter, not stronger—just a bit tad easier. Like it didn't need to be held in place anymore.
Charlotte watched for a second before humming quietly.
"There~"
Theodore didn't say anything, but his hand lowered slightly, more relaxed than before.
Word of that spread too.
Not the lesson itself, no, but the fact that Charlotte had taken a side when she made Theodore D'Arcel a disciple of her coven.
That she was helping him and get stronger.
That alone was enough.
Support shifted once more. The support had ranged from financial backing, quiet promises, and alliances spoken behind closed doors.
The D'Arcel branches began moving, each one preparing, each one watching the others.
Theodore could only notice the small changes.
At first, it was small things. The way certain eyes lingered too long. The way conversations stopped when he passed. The way smiles didn't quite reach the eyes of the ones giving them.
Then came the invitation to the estate. With the succession ceremony, the promised day that Theodore had made with his father, they all head towards the D'Arcel's estate.
The D'Arcel estate was never quiet, but now it felt different.
The air carried something heavier than noise.
Not tension, not exactly.
More like, expectation.
It lingered in the way people moved, in the way conversations dipped the moment certain names were mentioned. Servants passed by without lingering, their steps quicker than usual. Even the laughter, scattered across the estate, felt… choreographed.
Theodore noticed it all without meaning to.
Every glance. Every pause. Every shift in tone when someone recognized him.
It wasn't open hostility.
That would have been easier.
This was something else.
He stood beside Charlotte, Aurora nearby, Emilia just behind them, silent as ever.
"You're staring," Aurora muttered.
"I'm not," Theodore rejected the idea instantly.
"You are."
"I'm observing."
"Same thing."
Before he could respond, a group approached. Not just any random people, they were someone important. Theodore recognizes them as members of the D'Arcel line—older ones.
The kind that didn't need to introduce themselves as they had lived for so long, guiding their head of the estate to the proper way. The space shifted around as they got closer towards Theodore and the others. Conversations nearby thinned out without anyone saying why.
Vampires.
Dressed like they belonged there.
One of them stopped in front of Theodore, a faint smile already in place.
"So… You're the one."
Theodore didn't bow. Didn't look away either. He couldn't when these elders didn't even bother to look at his way before.
"…Guess so."
The man let out a quiet hum, like that answer was enough. "He doesn't look like much."
Aurora clicked her tongue under her breath when the man disrespected Theodore.
"Huh? Why don't you say it to everyone here girl?" The man didn't even glance at her.
The one who spoke first smiled faintly. "Relax," he said lightly. "That wasn't an insult."
A small pause.
His gaze returned to Theodore.
"Just… unexpected." Theodore held his stare.
"…Then don't expect anything."
That got a slight smile out of him.
"I sure won't."
Not praise. Not approval. Just interest.
Another one beside him finally spoke.
"You've been getting attention."
Theodore shrugged a little.
"Hard not to."
"That's the point."
A beat.
Another elder scoffed.
"Someone's confident," he added. "Let's see where that carries you."
The words weren't heavy. But they settled anyway.
They all left with their umbrellas to welcome the other guests.
Aurora shifted closer. Emilia stayed still. Charlotte takes photos of the event. Still unbothered.
"What a bunch of jerks," Emilia said, as Theodore laughed from her comment.
And just like that, they left.
No buildup. No lingering. Just gone.
The space they left behind didn't return to normal right away.
Conversations may have resumed, but were softer.
More careful.
A few glances still lingered where the group had stood, as if expecting them to come back.
Theodore flexed his fingers slightly.
The feeling stayed. Not fear. Not pressure. Just the awareness that he had been seen—and not in the way he used to be.
Aurora exhaled with relief in her.
"Okay, yeah. Still creepy."
"That's normal," Charlotte said.
Theodore frowned slightly.
"That shouldn't be normal."
Charlotte shrugged.
"It is here. They've always been like that whenever I visit," She says checking the qualities of her photos. "Besides, don't let them get to you. They do that to anyone in your family."
Theodore looked ahead again.
"…Right."
Because this wasn't just talk anymore. People were already choosing sides. And he was standing right in the middle of it.