I took his hand and tugged to give myself some space to breathe. He didn’t let go, though, and I tried to move him again. Against my fingertips, I could feel another deep scar—an X on his palm that marked him as mine, cut into his flesh at our marriage ceremony—and his wedding band on his left hand. His dominant hand. The one he’d used to wield the stake when he’d held me in a very different way, in that same castle, not too many months before.
Chapter 1
Antanasia
OF ALL THE grim chambers in the Vladescu castle—not counting the subterranean dungeons, of course—the one that served as a courtroom had to be the worst.
Like every other room aboveground, this one had a fireplace with a blazing fire, but the flames seemed more hellish than cheerful. They cast scary, shifting shadows on the gray rock walls and definitely didn’t do much to warm up the stark décor, which consisted of a semicircle of benches for witnesses, a worn spot on the stone floor where the accused would stand, and a long table, where I sat next to Lucius in a hard, straight-backed chair. The Elders waited in similar seats on either side of us, all of the ten older vampires sitting remarkably still.
Shifting in my chair, I tried—and failed—to get more comfortable.
I should sue the people who designed the My Little Pony Crystal Rainbow Castle I played with in kindergarten. They led me to believe that castles were filled with rainbows and cupcakes and pastel-pink furniture. Not stone and fire and . . . blood.
Turning a little bit sideways, I tried to meet Lucius’s eyes, but he was staring straight ahead, obviously preoccupied. He was also very still, except for his left hand, which absently rubbed his jaw right where he had a small scar. I knew that meant he was hiding tension, and the butterflies in my stomach got worse.
If Lucius is tense, how can I even imagine handling this?
My husband seemed to sense that I was getting very nervous, and he shifted his eyes just long enough to remind me, “Don’t freak out, Jess. We’ve talked about this. It’s part of our duties.”
Well, Lucius had never used the phrase “freak out,” but we had discussed how my new responsibilities included handing down justice, and sometimes sentences of—
“Let the accused come forward.”
I jumped as Lucius’s commanding baritone suddenly echoed off the walls, and turned with a sinking heart to see that we had been joined by a vampire who stood at the back of the room, hands shackled and head hanging low.
He’s a killer, I reminded myself as my mouth got dry. A bunch of witnesses saw him destroy my uncle Constantin Dragomir. And what I’m doing is just like serving on a jury. Regular humans do that all the time!
I glanced to my left, seeking reassurance that I wouldn’t be alone in deciding the fate of the prisoner who was shuffling toward that pale spot on the floor. But my uncle Dorin—the only Elder I considered an ally—wasn’t there, and I ended up meeting the gaze of Claudiu Vladescu, who smirked. Maybe at the growing panic that must have been apparent on my face—or maybe at the prospect of hearing testimony about a murder.
My stomach got queasier. Claudius just like his older brother, Vasile—another evil, vicious vampire, whom Lucius destroyed.
Although I knew I was squirming way too much for a princess, I turned to watch Lucius again, just as he said, in a steady voice that I couldn’t imagine summoning if I had to speak, “Tell your story to this panel, Dumitru Vladescu, and we will decide if you deserve mercy—or punishment.”
I should have given my full attention to the vampire who was about to fight for his life, but I kept watching my husband, who had stood on that circle himself just months before and fortunately been found not guilty of Vasile’s death. Luckily, the majority of the Elders—not counting Claudiu, of course—had believed that Vasile attacked first, giving Lucius no choice but to defend himself.
I never let myself think about what could have happened at that trial, and was glad I hadn’t even known about it until long after the verdict had been handed down.
I continued studying Lucius. How can he even bear to be in this room, let alone coolly direct everything? And if today’s verdict is guilty, won’t he have to . . . ?
“Speak,” Lucius urged his relative. “This is your chance to save your existence.”
I heard both command and compassion in Lucius’s order, but my cold blood suddenly felt like ice. An existence might really end today. I’m not just part of a jury. I’m the judge, and Lucius might be . . .
Fingers gripping my chair, I finally forced myself to face Dumitru Vladescu, who raised his head, so I could see his dark, terrified eyes, because if he was found guilty . . .
“No!”
I wasn’t even sure I’d cried out loud, but the squeal of my chair as I jumped up probably drowned out my voice anyway. “Excuse me,” I mumbled, bowing my head. “I . . . I need to leave. I don’t feel well . . .”
I couldn’t look at Lucius as I stumbled from his side. And I certainly didn’t look at Claudiu or the other Elders, who would be all too aware of why the American girl raised by vegans was rushing out of the room, nearly tripping over her long formal dress.
“Excuse me.” The Elders pulled in their chairs so I could pass behind them. “Sorry . . .”
I knew that I was—again—hurting Lucius’s and my chance of winning a crucial vote of confidence later that year, when the most influential Vladescu and Dragomir clan members would convene at a big summer congress of vampires. A vote that could elevate Lucius and me to king and queen. Yet I couldn’t stay there, even if leaving doomed us to failure.
I practically ran past the prisoner, not looking at him, either. But as I hurried toward the door, I did catch the eye of one vampire I hadn’t noticed before, even though I should have expected her to attend the trial of her father’s killer. My cousin Ylenia Dragomir, eighteen, like me, small and wearing black, sat alone in a corner, blending into the shadows as if she didn’t want anyone to see her face while she heard the story of her dad’s murder recounted in detail.
I wasn’t sure what the verdict on the prisoner would be, but I had never felt so guilty as when I left that room, letting down not just my husband, but the first friend I’d made in Romania.
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About the Author
BETH FANTASKEY grew up in the small town of Montoursville, Pennsylvania, and later moved to the edge of Amish country, near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. She has a master’s degree in journalism, and has written everything from speeches to newsletters, articles to short fiction, but Jessica’s Guide to Dating on the Dark Side is her first book. www.bethfantaskey.com
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