My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything - Chapter 303

Chapter 303: The New Monarchy
Red lingered in the office for a moment, her eyes scanning his face for any reaction. “Will you go?”

Ezra set the envelope down on his desk, folding his hands together. “I suppose I don’t have a choice.” He said dryly.

Red smirked, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t want to keep the Lord waiting.”

“I doubt he’s waiting for me.” Ezra laughed.

Red snorted at that. She gave him a final smile and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again.

He glanced at the envelope, knowing this was one obligation he’d have to fulfill. He’d rather spend the night at home with his wives than do this but the City Lord was not a man to be messed with.

James Harlow was the second prince Ezra had ever met, but unlike Griffin, Harlow was different. More powerful.

Ezra didn’t need to be told that James was a full Prince, with all the authority and power that came with the title.

He could feel it. Every time they met, there was an undeniable pull, a magnetic force in the air as if Harlow’s relic was calling out to him, whispering his name like a long-lost friend. And he knew, with an unsettling certainty, that James felt it too.

It was always uncomfortable. An invisible tether that bound them in ways neither of them could explain. The power that Valaren held, buried somewhere deep within Ezra’s soul, always hummed when they were near each other.

A greeting, or maybe a challenge. Fortunately, both of them were princes of the Nightmare Court.

Ezra couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to meet a prince of the Daydream Court. That thought alone sent a chill down his spine. They’d probably have to fight there and then and he was sure he was the youngest prince.

He knew that one day, the two courts would clash. The confrontation was inevitable. That was the way the progenitor had designed the relics. But for now, he was content with not having to battle it out with a prince.

He reached for the envelope, running his thumb over the seal before sliding it into the top drawer of his desk.

It wasn’t something he needed to deal with right now. He’d have to hand it over to Olivia later, have her slip it into her pocket dimension for safekeeping. He wasn’t a Fifth Ring vampire yet and didn’t have his own dimension, but he was close.

Another few years, and he’d reach the power required to ascend safely.

It had been nineteen years since he had arrived in Faewall, and twenty years since his transformation into a vampire. Two decades that had seen seismic shifts in Vampire Society.

When they had first arrived in Faewall, the political climate had been tense and it was when they heard the news that they’d been able to understand what was going on.

The meeting Itachi Yaiba had attended had been at the Ark and there’d been more than one prince in attendance. The outcome of this meeting had sent shockwaves through vampire society.

The Princes, led by Prince Caspian and Prince Arthur, successfully seceded from Vampire Society, officially creating their own government, the Monarchy.

It had been an unprecedented move, and in the aftermath, the Princes had claimed several cities within the Federation as their own, driving away any Council loyalists. Fortunately, Faewall hadn’t been one of those cities.

The Monarchy, now ruled by nine Princes, was a new system. One that divided power between the two courts. Nightmare and Daydream.

The world of vampires was no longer a singular entity under the Council’s iron fist. Instead, it was fractured, the Monarchy now a rival power to the Council’s rule.

Many had flocked to the Monarchists and war seemed inevitable. Everyone expected it. The tension in the air, the undercurrents of conflict brewing beneath every conversation, every move made by either side.

But for now, open battle hadn’t yet come. The reason was simple.

Even divided, the Princes of the Monarchy knew that if they allowed infighting to happen, the Council would sweep in and destroy them before they could fully consolidate their power.

But the creation of the Monarchy had brought more than just political division. It had forced the council to change a few things about Vampire Society.

The Population Law, a once ironclad rule designed to limit the number of vampires under each Count’s control, had been changed. The limit on all Subjects under their Counts had increased from thirty to fifty, and for City Lords, from fifty to seventy.

The need for bodies, for loyal soldiers, had grown as the threat of conflict stood over everyone. And with the new system came a relaxation of the Turning Laws.

Vampires were now allowed to turn others without prior consent from their Counts, although their newly turned vampire would still be subject to the approval of their Count.

Ezra sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes tracing the dull gray stone of the ceiling. He had lived through it all. The changes, the politics, the new laws.

He had spent the first ten years here in Faewall as an independent Subject under James Harlow’s rule, keeping a low profile, trying to figure out why his instincts had led him to this city.

But after a decade of searching, he had found nothing. Nothing that aligned with the strange pull that had first brought him here.

So he had created a new plan. Becoming a peacekeeper had granted him more freedom, more authority, and it allowed him to search the city from a position of power.

But nine years later and with all the resources and leverage at his disposal, he still hadn’t found what he was looking for. The answers, the clues that gnawed at his gut, remained hidden.

And time was running out.

His tenure as peacekeeper captain was almost over. He had one year left. Just twelve months before he would have to step down, hand the reins over to someone else.

After that, his search would become infinitely harder. His influence would shrink, and his chances of finding what he was looking for would gradually grow smaller until he had no chance at all.

Ezra closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to push the frustration away.

He had one year left. He couldn’t afford to waste it.