Her heart was in her toes by the time her bath was finished with, blood pounding in her ears as she was forced into the bridal lingerie. It was white, frilly, and far too lacy for her tastes. It hardly covered all that much, but then again, she didn't have much to cover. Her build was almost that of a typical female vampire – relatively flat-chested, dark haired, and slim. The only thing she was missing was the height. She was annoyingly short for a vampire. Leviathan was relatively tall, and that meant she came up to chest height on him when she should've been at least shoulder height. It also meant she would forever be forced to look up at him. Swallowing a yawn, she approached the mirror, eyeing up her dress from the corner of her eye as the resident make-up expert, and the hairstylist hired for her wedding set to work.

Most other girls would have likely been squealing with excitement by that point, but Kaliana just felt resigned. She wanted to throw in the towel and call it a day already. Her stomach was twisting itself into knots, and all of her confidence had vanished down the drain along with the rest of the bathwater. The poking and prodding of the various hair ornaments wasn't helping either. She felt like she was about to be put on display, and the knowledge that she was having a traditional vampire wedding didn't help. Blindfolds, ribbons, and blood were involved in the traditional sort, each having their own select meaning.

Kaliana was almost certain she wouldn't make it down the aisle without embarrassing herself at least once. She was horribly clumsy and being deprived of her sight meant she'd have no choice but to rely on Leviathan far too much. Knowing the git, even for as short of a time as she had, she knew he would probably find it amusing if she fell flat on her face.

Blinking tiredly, she rested her head back, sighing as she shut her eyes in an attempt to calm herself down as best she could before the ceremony. The chair was comfy at least, she mused, tuning out the hustle and bustle of the room as best she could as she closed her eyes.

But when she next opened her eyes – she was lost.

Gone was the room she had been in when the maids and stylists had been hurrying about in. She was alone. Frantic, Kaliana looked around, wondering what was going on as she stared at the world dyed in purple. Her entire world was bathed in a purple light. The walls glimmered, a thick, silvery liquid dripping down from beyond the ceiling above.

Something trickled down from her mouth, and Kaliana tasted blood all of a sudden. Her hands went to her lips, and her eyes widened as a silvery smear coated her fingers. The silvery liquid was blood, she realised with a start. But what creature had silver blood? Kaliana didn't have an answer for that.

Instead, a loud screech sounded alongside the flapping of numerous leathery wings.

They came from the ceiling, hundreds of them. Bats. Not just any bats either – purple eyed ones – and they swarmed around her like a column even as she ducked away from them. Desperate to get rid of the screeching creatures, she hurried over to the window, hauling open the panel of glass in a rush. They left with loud screeches, fluttering out and over to the next tower of the castle. But it was as she waited by the window that she noticed it.

A fourth moon in the sky, glowing with a purple light.

"Astalla," a voice whispered, haunting and eerie in tone. "Her lost children come."

"Princess?"

Her eyes snapped open once more, glancing up at Rochel's concerned face before she lurched for the nearest bin, emptying her stomach right then and there. It was the nerves. It had to be nerves. Why else would she have such a weird dream? She had never had a nightmare so vivid before.

"Get the mouthwash," the Head Maid ordered, helping her sit back up, rubbing her back all the while. "The wedding will not be cancelled... the queen won't allow it, not after all the preparations that have been made. There's no time to waste..."

"Well, at least ya didn't throw up during the ceremony?" Rochel offered, a tentative smile on her face.

Kaliana smirked. She would have loved to see the look on Leviathan's face if she had thrown up on his shoes. He deserved something like that. Then again, they were going to have to shuffle up the aisle together, blindfolded as some sort of symbolic gesture of trust, so maybe it was better Leviathan's shoes were kept clean for the time being.

She rinsed her mouth out – eager to be rid of the taste of her own vomit – only able to watch as her lipstick and gloss were carefully reapplied. It all had to be perfect, or so she was told. The dress came next, every tick of the clock bringing the fast approaching ceremony that much closer, her stomach twisting itself tighter with every tock. Her chest felt tight, though that might've had something to do with the innermost layer of the dress which was being tightened around her right that very instant. Each layer made the dress that much heavier. Kaliana swallowed, feeling like she was about to drown in the heavy silks as the last part of the dress was wrapped around her.

It was a bone white colour, thick and glossy as it fell over her almost non-existent cleavage and down to her toes, shimmering in the light whenever she moved about as if thousands of tiny little sparkling jewels had been sewn into the fabric. The sleeves were elbow-length, and tight around the skinny sticks she called arms. A large, dark silver ribbon was tied around her waist, fixing itself into a bow at her back, the tassels falling down to the backs of her knees. It was beautiful – she looked beautiful. Kaliana smiled. Even if she was getting married to that bastard of a prince, at least she looked good. In fact, it was probably the best she'd looked in years.

Her hair was artfully styled up, tied back in a fancy bun, the hair piece attached to the mesh-like fabric clipped neatly into the front of her updo. She could feel the veil whenever she moved, though unlike fae weddings, it was never to cover the face. They had a damned blindfold for that. Her hands bunched the silky fabric of her skirts. Everything was moving far too quickly for her liking. Only a few days ago, she'd still been living in blissful peace in the countryside, and now she was about to be married to one of the highest powers in the land.

She bit her lip, uncaring as she ruined their glossy coating. Why did the world hate her?

A knock at the door had her heart racing, bile rising in her throat, but she forced it back down. As if she'd give Leviathan the privilege of seeing her nervous. Rather than the prince though, one of his knights greeted her at the door instead. The one who wore glasses – Caleb.

He was dressed neatly in blacks and golds, the insignia of the Royal Guard neatly stitched into the shoulder of his sleeve. A sword was strapped to his waist – ceremonial, but still very usable. Kaliana wondered whether she would be able to use it to escape. She doubted she'd get very far if she tried. Her running speed was far slower than the rest of her kin, so they would be on her in seconds.

"Lady Kaliana..." he said, staring at her with unflinching brown eyes. "I have been sent to escort you to the hall."

She scowled, knowing what was coming as she waited silently in front of the door. There was only one thing her outfit was missing, and that was the blindfold. She closed her eyes, soon feeling the slight weight of the thin slip of fabric. Her world turned alarmingly dark, considering it was a white blindfold – embroidered with silver stitching in places – and unfortunately it did its job all too well. She was almost as helpless as a toddler finding their feet for the first time.

A small silvery clasp tightened against the back of her head – the same one spelled with Leviathan's blood, and that meant he would unfortunately be the only one able to remove the slip of fabric binding her sight. She was blind until he deigned to take it off – and, knowing him, he'd no doubt be an absolute annoyance and leave it on as long as possible.

"Let's just get this over and done with," she grumbled, grabbing a hold of the proffered forearm of her escort, resigning herself to her fate as she stumbled out of the room. She just wanted to go back to sleep already – preferably without a handsome git at her side.