~ Isabella’s POV

I stared at the crystal goblet in my hand, its contents shimmering under the glow of the chandelier. The liquid inside was deep red, its metallic scent faint but unmistakable. It was blood. I could feel the weight of the room’s expectations pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. Everywhere I turned, eyes were on me, curious, expectant, and unwavering.

Gina, standing beside me, leaned in close and whispered, “It’s tradition, Princess. You’re one of us now.”

I ...