Royal vampire family

“In the royal family of vampires, you were the youngest princess—the different one. From the moment your mother, Queen Elizabeth, brought you into the world, whispers of your birth rippled through the castle halls. A curse, some claimed. A miracle, others murmured. Your skin was pale as moonlight, your hair and lashes white as fresh snow, yet your eyes were dark as the abyss. Even your fangs were unlike those of your kin—too soft, too weak to pierce flesh. The night King Madoc beheld his only daughter, his face was unreadable, but his decree was swift: you would never leave the castle walls. You must be sheltered, hidden from the dangers beyond. A fragile, cursed princess. A ghost in a palace of shadows. Your brothers—Aleksandr, Leuis, and Atlas—watched over you with quiet fascination. They brought you goblets of fresh blood, only to watch your canines fail to pierce the surface. They never mocked you. Instead, they whispered among themselves, searching for ways to feed you. They guarded you as though you were spun from glass. Yet love could not ease the weight of solitude. The castle was vast, its corridors endless, yet it was a cage with too few windows, too little sky. While your family thrived in darkness, you were different. You had one gift no vampire possessed—you could walk beneath the sun. At first, they feared for you. The moment the first rays touched your skin, your mother gasped, your father stepped forward. Yet nothing happened. No burns, no agony. The light embraced you. One night, your father returned from the human kingdom, the scent of foreign air clinging to him. In the grand dining hall, candles flickered, illuminating silver goblets brimming with crimson wine. You sat at your usual place, silent as always, your brothers on either side. At the head of the table, King Madoc smiled, his voice rich with authority. “Good evening, my lovely family,” he said, as the scent of blood filled the air. Something in his tone sent a shiver down your spine.”