by Lexi Ostrow
A slight crimson crept up her throat and onto her cheeks. “I am. Just this past year.”
So she was truly a babe when the world went to hell but still may have dreamed of a family. “Did you, at one point, have a suitor?”
“Never. My family has no need for money, and I believe they were waiting for an eligible Duke to seek status. My mother fell ill with the first of them. When she decided to pass on, there was little thought to anything save for avenging her and the rest.”
“I am sorry. My family, in all our stretches around the globe, were fortunate enough to have never been caught with the illness.” Nor the fangs till Christopher.
The idea of becoming her family was both weighing on his chest and freeing his soul to fall in love with her. His plan had gone without a hitch for the better part of a week. However, there was no way he could continue if they were to be wed. For one, there was the legal issue of her marrying the deceased. Then, it was almost certain his family would slip up if they supported the endeavor at all. No, this has to end today. Now.
“There is something we need to discuss . . . something I must share. If, when I’m finished, you still wish me to ask, then I would gladly request your hand in marriage.”
Raven’s head shook, sending her glossy black hair swishing. “If you tell me that you are married to a woman and father to a mass of youth in another country, I will strike you.” Fire seemed to live in her emerald stare as her eyes narrowed at him.
Scoffing, he did his best not to show her the statement amused him. “I assure you, it is nothing scandalous.” Though it could lend itself to you thinking less of me.
“Very well, what is it?”
“Raven?” A male voice buzzed through the room, sounding as if he came from overhead.
“Levi!” A smile so large spread on her face Benjamin worried this man was a former lover. “Levi, I apologize, I am engaged with Christopher Abbott from the Electric Guild.”
“Sorry, Raven. This is not something I can hold back.”
Benjamin wished he knew some form of combat, anything if whomever this Levi man was would be telling them there was a dangerous intrusion afoot. He spent his time indoors, tinkering away. He was not a man of perilous feats.
“A courier from the king has arrived.”
“Well, I suppose you must send them in.” She rolled her shoulders back and straightened her stance. “Whatever you were going to say must wait. Thank heavens, I thought to dress myself in a more respectable manner this day.”
“Do you oft receive visitors from his majesty?”
“No, this would be the first since my leadership.”
Before he could ask if she had any inkling as to what was occurring, the door opened. A man his age with a tuft of dark brown hair in a proper suit held the door ajar. The king’s courier entered ridiculous feathered cap and all.
“Lady Raven Nightingale of the Steam Guild?” The messenger appeared to be nimble, albeit much older than they. Salt and pepper hair told the tale of a man who had served the royal family for many years. When he looked up, there was a sharpness in his blue eyes.
“Yes?” The question was spoken coyly as if Raven was not certain she wanted to claim her title as she stepped up the messenger, crossing her arms over her chest. “Allow me to introduce to you, Lord Christopher Abbott of the Electric Guild.”
“My, this is unexpected.” He passed over a rolled scroll. “‘Tis a wonderful pleasure as it saves me a trip ‘cross the city.” Reaching into his satchel, the man removed an identical scroll and passed it to Benjamin – whom he evidently believed to be Christopher without hesitation.
Taking the parchment from the man, he slipped the gold ribbon off as Raven was already unrolling hers.
“It is likely they have the same message,” she stopped as the missive was entirely unrolled. “Lady Raven Nightingale, your presence is requested before the King. Please take an escort with the courier and seek out Palace grounds post haste. You will be returned long before the call of night is upon us.”
Benjamin’s eyes quickly skimmed over his cousin’s summons. “Exactly the same, save for the name.” Panic laced the words. His cousin had been called before the king enough times in the past year that the man would certainly know he was not Christopher. Or perhaps, your likeliness is strong enough, and his memory weak sufficient to remember someone. He choked. Even if that someone was head of the most critical entity aside from the king himself.
“I am unable to attend.” He blurted, his heart racing in his chest.
“There are guards in the corridor. This was not a request.”
Raven looked sideways at him. “Christopher, do not be foolish.”
Don’t fret. You were mere seconds away from informing her of the truth. You can do so in the steam transport, and at the very least, she cannot storm off or dispatch you from her guild.
He sighed, knowing any further action would be cause for suspicion. “My apologies, Lady Nightingale and I were engaged in a bout of . . . sensitive business. We will continue in the carriage.”
“That will not be possible. Lady Raven is a young woman, and I am not eligible to chaperone. Nor would I want such a distasteful role.” He waved his hand as if dismissing the concept. “The Lady will ride, accompanied by guards. There were two means of transport to see that her virtue would not be questioned when seen with me. You will be my guest as I no longer need to waste a trip to the other side of the city.”
“That is not a necessity. Truly, in this world — ”
“Just because I must don a blasted mask to breathe and cannot be outside in the light of the moon does not mean I will let a lady’s virtue be questioned. There are two means of transport. Must I call the guards?”
Benjamin bristled. He could not be separated from Raven. It was unlikely they would find a moment to speak, and there was no way he would appear before the king and lie. He would be beheaded for one matter.
“Christopher,” Raven’s hand came down firmly on his forearm. “Whatever this conversation we were to have was, it can surely wait.” Leaning in, she whispered as near his ear as she could get. “Do not cast suspicion upon yourself. I have rather a fond interest in you and displeasing the king through his servant is not wise.”
He had an entire ride to plot what he would say and mere seconds to say it once they arrived before they would be escorted to the throne room if the king was awaiting their arrival. Listen to her, cousin. You played a dangerous game, and now you must see it through. Christopher’s voice chided him once more.
“Very well,” his knuckles were white from the force of his curled fingers into fists. Everything could very likely spiral into madness if he did not plan concisely what he would say to her and how quickly he would speak the words.
“I am pleased. Come then, and I left my belongings with a delightful young man on my way in, I presume you have masks and goggles.”
“Yes,” Raven smiled, and suddenly she was the bell of the ball. She walked with all the grace of a royal beauty, and he was slightly shocked she had been hiding such a trait from him. “Ours have been left near the entry.” She looked over at him. “Have a safe journey, Christopher.”
Stunned that she would leave without him, he watched as she regally sauntered to her lift with the courier and stepped in, closing the door behind them.
“Does she do that oft?” Benjamin asked the man who’d let the messenger in.
“Give orders and vanish?” he chuckled. “Yes, quite.”
Shaking his head, he walked toward the man, “Levi, I presume?”
“At your service Lord Abbott. Please, allow me to show you to our other lift so that you might join them downstairs.”
Yes, because at this moment there aren’t a million things I would rather be doing than walking into a storm without a coat.
Chapter Thirteen
The king’s timing could not have been less fortuitous. Raven grumbled the thought as she looked out the window. As it was
day, they were arriving in a traditional carriage, complete with horses and ornate golden embellishments. At the very least, she’d at least had a comfortable journey to sulk.
Asking Christopher to propose had been a dash rash, but it had come from the correct place. They needed their guilds to come together and ordering them to do so wouldn’t be enough. Showing the members that through working together, they might find hope once more, that could be enough. Christopher’s lack of response had been startling.
“No, his response had been perfectly practical. You are in distress because your feelings got tied up in this nonsense, and you’re reading his delay as an affront to you.” Saying the words aloud did naught to stop her upset.
“Lady Nightingale,” the coachman’s voice drifted in through the only update to the otherwise timeless transport – a communication system. “We shall be arriving shortly. I suggest making yourself ready so as not to delay the king.
Her stomach rolled at the reminder of what she should have been focused upon. Instead, you were thinking like a young lass and forgot yourself.
For the first time since taking her board’s advice, she was regretting meeting Christopher Abbott. The man was creating distractions of all sorts by merely existing. Once more, her thoughts were on the incorrect subject matter.
“Yes, thank you for the consideration.” Her eyewear lay on the luxuries velvet-wrapped seat cushion and looking at the scoffed pair, and she wished she’d had something cleaner. Members of the ton often had multiple – in a variety of metals – yet she never kept hers on hand. Her work one was plenty, and she felt very uncomfortable about the disarray of the goggles as she slipped them on.
She glanced at her reflection in the window and grimaced at the protective eyewear and decided to forgo it. It was to protect against the steam, not the disease, and Raven wished to be as presentable as possible, so she took them off and slipped them into the bosom of her dress. You’ve never been requested to go before the king, do not embarrass your guild with your head in the clouds.
Raven had not glanced out the window to notice the palace looming overhead, but she had been jolted from her thoughts as the coach slowed to a stop, and the clomping of hooves silenced.
“Well, it is now or never.”
“I shall open your door.” The footman called through the sturdy wooden door.
She did not respond as it was customary for a coachman or footman to open the door. When the door swung outward, her breath caught in her throat. Even with the world as it was, the palace was as grand as ever. Tall turrets stretched to the sky, topped with golden spires and inlaid with magnificent stained glass windows. The white towers and walls were glorious and stood far taller than her guild ever would. Guards stood with masks of polished steel, their eyes shining fiercely through the glass off their goggles.
“Lady Nightingale?” The footman sounded nervous over disrupting her.
“I’m sorry. I have never been before. It is rather lovely.”
“Yes, we have worked hard to maintain the splendor.” He gestured for her to step around him. “This is a side entrance. Please enter, the guard will open the gate as soon as you get to him. It was a pleasure to escort such a powerful woman to the palace.” The man bowed and returned to the carriage.
That was . . . different. Looking to the guard, Raven saw a wrought-iron gate beside him and approached.
“I am Lady Raven Nightingale of the Steam Guild.” She tried to hold her head as high as she could and speak as clearly as possible.
“Please step through to the next guard.” The burly man inserted a key, and the gate opened for her.
She took no more than two steps before seeing a large wooden door, painted white as if to camouflage it, and another guard. “I am Lady Raven Nightingale of the Steam Guild.”
This guard did not speak, and he merely used his skeleton key to open the door and push it in.
“Um, all right then.” Cautiously, she stepped inside and blew out a breath.
The quarantine chamber was made of glass, showcasing the magnificence of the castle as the filtration system would cleanse the space before allowing her inside. As magnificent and ornate as the Steam Guild was, the castle was more so. Painted portraits taller than she mixed with photographs of the same size and were all hung on the wall set in glorious golden frames with tiny detailing on each. Suits of armor stood, one every five or so meters, along the wall, and she could see herself in their polished metal even from a distance. A richly plush golden-yellow rug was under her feet as she stepped in, and she turned to close the door to find the guard had done so.
Her eyes continued to roam the chambers until she spotted two seats at the far end. The backs stretched nearly to the ceiling, and though she could not see any color, she knew the royal family’s colors would be donning the seat cushions. What she could see was the hands of the King and Queen resting on the arms of their thrones. The glass door slid open, and suddenly she was mere steps from the rulers of her city. Dazed, she unclipped her mask and slipped it off. Uncertain of where to place it, she held it in front of her body.
As she approached, she began to walk around to the front of the thrones to be before the royals. Both sat, regal and straight as arrows. The king’s busy black beard was all she could see of his face, as the rest was behind a scroll. His jeweled crown sat centered on his head, fluffing out the black hair under it even further and giving him an appearance of a lion. The queen’s gown flowed off the seat as a river flows its course, the blue fabric bright and beautifully dyed. Her face was not hidden, and wide brown eyes were filled with a panic Raven couldn’t help but notice.
Slowly, with the smallest steps she had ever taken, Raven crossed the quarters to stand at a respectable distance from the thrones. Though she had only ever curtsied at balls and had not attended one in the past three years, she knew the motions.
“Your Majesties.”
“Lady Nightingale, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry to bring you at such a rapid pace. It was essential. Not many know of the direct door, and we trust you will keep it that way.” The queen’s voice was elegant and did not match the concern in the depths of her eyes.
“Raven!”
She turned, surprised to see Christopher entering after her, but she had not known when he’d left to know when he would arrive.
“Your Royal Majesties,” Christopher quickly spat the greeting as he bowed. When he lifted his head, his face was pale.
Likely due to that shout in the presence of their rulers.
The king spoke without lowering the scroll. “Thank you for coming. I apologize for the appearance that I am hiding behind this parchment, I am reading a brief from the Captain of the Guard and will split my attention until I am through.”
Both she and Christopher nodded even though the man was not looking.
“I have called you here because your country needs you, your king needs you. The vampires have been growing in aggression. They are angry for what we did when the blood demand grew too high. They came to me, a particular leader, and killed my guards to gain audience with me. I was able to meet with him safely thanks to the invention of the Steam Guild. Which is why you are here.”
Raven watched as the man’s hands moved up the length of the document he read. It was rather impressive that he was able to focus on two tasks at once so expertly. She knew the cage he referred too and was proud she had helped her brothers come up with the device.
“I did not comply with their demands to simply give them victims every time they called. I am the King of London, and I answer to no one.” His voice boomed, echoing in the vast emptiness of the large throne room. “Unfortunately, I was unprepared for their levels. Last eve, they returned and attacked here inside the palace in the gardens for a second time.”
He paused, dropping the scroll to the floor. His eyes fell downcast, sorrow radiating off him in waves. Raven did not miss the way the queen ran her hand over her husband’s back. They had wed for pol
itical ties, though it was tangible that a bond had formed between them.
“I did not investigate how they breached our walls the first time. I presumed treachery had occurred. One guard on duty did not lose his life in the most recent assault, and he reported back. They came from the skies.” Pain ravaged his voice, allowing Raven to feel his hurt. “I failed my people. I will not do so again.” He scoffed in a slight effort to conceal the way he cleared his through, ridding the emotional response from his body. “My guilds have been declared the finest in the world. Countries send their brilliant inventors. I need an alliance. I need,” he lifted his head and paused mid sentence.
Eyes that were softened with remorse narrowed in suspicion, nearly turning into thin lines that matched the stark slash of his mouth. Raven felt her heart thudding powerfully in her chest. Fear climbed up her leg and wrapped around her body like a boa constrictor as she presumed one of the ill had somehow hidden in the castle and was now making itself known. A voice in her head screamed at her to take Christopher’s hand and pull them to safety.
“You!”
King Clearance’s voice boomed out, seeming to shake the panels of stained glass. Her vision was tunneling as fear threatened to lull her into a blackout rather than face another monster. Every part of her being was pulsating, bracing for the moment when she would meet death again.
“You are not Christopher Abbott.”
Gasping, she forced her eyes open and looked from the king to Christopher. Sweat beaded at Christopher’s hairline, making the blond seem almost gold. She watched as he swallowed and saw the way he almost didn’t breathe.
“You, young man, bear an impeccable resemblance to Christopher Abbott as he would have looked five years ago. You have his eyes and his cheekbones, but you do not share his slender build or the wisdom and privilege he had in his similar hazel eyes.”
“Christopher?” his name was a squeak on her lips.
“Where is the true leader of the Electric Guild? He is the one who will create and enforce the alliance I am calling for. I’ve let your guilds squabble like babes for long enough. I had no wish to force you together, but the time has come, and I need Christopher Abbott.”