Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  My eyes narrowed. “Arthur, I understand how you feel—”

  “No, Princess”—he looked right at me—“you do not. You cannot possibly fathom the nightmarish ordeals it took to gain control over the vampires, or the devastation they inflicted upon this earth in a time before Lilithians were even a thought in God’s mind. I was there; I witnessed the terror. I helped write many of the laws that see vampires punished and, yes, our methods are cruel, harsh, but if you could only see what I have seen, you would realize why, by freeing those depraved brutes, you are about to make your first big mistake.”

  “Well, I disagree. It’s a difference of opinion.” I folded my arms.

  “No, it’s that you, my dear, are not listening.”

  “I am. I’ve heard everything you, Morgaine and everyone else has had to say. But this is my decision.”

  “Not entirely,” he said. “Not right now. Until you have taken your vows, sworn an oath, all your decisions must be approved by the Upper House.”

  “Fine then. Once I’m Queen, I’ll free them—at least the ones that deserve to be freed. You can’t stop me.”

  “I would not seek to stop you, but I would hope, after many conversations, you would see my point.”

  I slumped in my seat a little then took a deep breath and looked at the starry sky. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I don’t mean to argue with you. It’s just that…” I didn’t eat, and the ogre Morgaine warned me about had surfaced. “I just don’t like people telling me what to do; telling me I know nothing.”

  He reached across and patted my hand. “You remind me of my nephew, in that sense.”

  “Which one?”

  “David.”

  I looked down at his hand on mine, softening. “So, the imprisoned vampires are really that bad, huh?”

  “Contemptible.”

  “I just never imagined there’d be vampires that did things like that—horrible things. Drinking blood, I get. Killing, I get. But serial killers?” I shook my head.

  “They’re not so very different to humans, Ara. If a human is capable of violence, then of course a vampire is.”

  “Well, I was only planning to free the ones I thought were punished unfairly.”

  “How will you determine that?”

  “Go through each case, I guess. Maybe bring their lawyer back in, discuss each one with him.”

  Arthur shuffled in his seat, clearing his throat. “That would be impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the vampire who sentenced many of the prisoners we keep here is… dead.”

  My stomach dropped. “David?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then—” Ouch. I hadn’t expected that. “Then I guess I’ll have to assign someone else I can trust.”

  “The Loslilian Director of Penalty would perhaps be best.”

  “Who’s that? I thought Morgaine was head of, like, everything Lilithian.”

  “No,” Arthur said with a smile. “Only in Paris. She was brought here purely to torture David. She would not know the finer details of Loslilian prisoners or punishment schedules.”

  “Oh. So, who’s this Director of Penalty then?”

  “Bernard.”

  “Bernard?” I said it quietly to myself. “Okay, well I guess I’ll speak to him.”

  “Very well. But not alone.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s spent far too long trawling those dark corridors, my dear. He has little respect for anything or anyone. I’d not put it past him to be rude.”

  “I can handle a person being rude.”

  “That may be so, but I will not tolerate anyone disrespecting our princess.”

  “Aw, how sweet,” I said, but the light moment faded quickly with a question resonating from deep within my worry-spot. “Hey, Arthur?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you really think I’m going to stuff all this up—you know, wreck everything you’ve built?” I asked delicately.

  He rubbed his face with both hands. “No. I don’t. I just don’t want you to run in with guns blazing, trying to change every law you oppose, all at once. As you spend more time in the community of vampires, you will see, more clearly with each passing day, that there is good reason for everything we have done. Changes do need to be made, but just be careful how you go about those.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “That is all I ask.”

  With the awkward first part of our conversation out of the way, I felt more comfortable to attempt a little probing. “So you knew Drake pretty well, right?”

  “Know him well, yes.”

  “But you haven’t seen him since the attack on the castle?”

  “No. I’ve not even had word from him. I was told only that he was in Rome.”

  “Does he know you’re here at the manor?”

  “I don’t know. He would be aware I have taken my bi-annual leave, but he would not likely know where I have gone.”

  “Won’t he think you should have stayed? You know, because of the whole Lilithian uprising and all.”

  Arthur shook his head. “I have served my time. Friend to the king or not, I must take my leave.”

  “Do you think he’s still alive? Like, after he was stabbed—do you think he survived it?”

  “I would be certain of that.”

  “How could he survive it though, if it was my venom on the sword, how could he live?”

  “There’s no saying it was your venom. It could have been a ruse.”

  I nodded. “True.”

  “Or, perhaps it may be that he is a very powerful being and cannot be killed by venom, as rumors would suggest. I have not only heard stories of his dark magic but seen him use it.”

  “Dark magic?”

  “Yes. He has witch blood.”

  “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “It is.”

  “Can I… can I ask what sort of magic you saw him do?” My eyes widened a little.

  Arthur looked down at his open palm, as if he held something there. “I watched him turn a red rose black—suck the life from it—then restore in the same breath.”

  “Wow.” That made him so much scarier. “A black-witch-vampire. Maybe my council are right. Maybe we should destroy him.”

  “Did you ever have doubts about that? It was my understanding that you seek to find him and either imprison or kill him.”

  “Not me.” I shook my head. “David’s dead, so we can’t have this prophecy baby, which means Drake has nothing to worry about. So why can’t we all just live in peace?”

  “Hm.” He nodded to himself. “And what does your Private Council think of this?”

  “Well, Mike thinks I’m young and naive—that I just don’t have any idea what I’m talking about.”

  “Mike is young, himself.” Arthur smiled. “You are a bright girl, and I know you do not see good and evil in two dimensions.”

  “No. I don’t. But, isn’t that wrong?”

  “No, Princess, it’s not. The world is so full of philosophy and opinion. And each individual has opposing concepts of harmony and peace. We all defend our beliefs, our perceptions of what is right or wrong, and it is impossible sometimes to know which side to take.”

  “I know. It’s a gray area.”

  “Yes. One may ask himself if he should follow the leader that shares the majority of advocates, or the one whom he agrees with himself. And that”—he grinned, leaning back and making the swing rock—“even I have not answered to this day.”

  “Hm, well, it’s a good question, Arthur. I guess, in the end, you just have to follow your heart.”

  “Some do not have that luxury,” he said. “Humans, especially, follow tyrants sometimes out of force, often just fear but, I believe, mostly naivety.”

  “I think most people know what’s right and wrong, Arthur. And in the end, we all always conquer oppression.”

  “How little you know of history for a girl whose o
wn father is a professor in this field.” He sat forward a little. “What you need to ask is not whether we conquer oppression as a species, but who is the oppressor—who do we overthrow?”

  “The bad guy.”

  “How do you decide who is bad?”

  I shrugged. “Guess it’s a matter of opinion.”

  “And whose opinion counts?”

  “Everyone’s.”

  “But not everyone agrees.” He turned in the seat to face me. “Take Hitler, for example: people followed him, convinced that his madness was merely revolution.”

  “Yes, but in time they rose against him. Good did triumph.”

  “Again, not that I feel this way, but how do you know that was the right course of action? And who decides?”

  “We all decide, Arthur, because bringing pain and suffering to anyone, for any reason, is never right.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked up at him. “The world will not stop fighting for freedom and peace. That is what’s right, and tyranny is wrong. I will always take the path that leads to freedom for my people.”

  “For your people—exactly. And what if the path to freedom would result, ultimately, in the sacrifice of many others? Would you be any better than your tyrannical predecessors for opting to walk it?”

  “Well—”

  “You see? How do you choose a side? What is right? What is wrong, and according to whom?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I frowned. “That’s all separate from me. I’ll find a way to bring the Three Worlds together. We can live in peace. I know we can, and I know I can do it without causing any suffering.”

  “Except to kill those who oppose you.”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then what are you going to do?” he said firmly. “Because you find yourself at the command of an uprising against the vampires, but they will fight back. They will oppose you. Will you imprison them? No, you intend to win them over by releasing them from their Sets to start wars, cause more damage, more deaths?”

  “Arthur…” I shifted awkwardly in my seat, realizing suddenly how ill-equipped I was to be a queen. “This is too much for me. I’m not ready to deal with this yet.”

  “But you must, Princess. You are in a position of power and that brings with it the obligation of decision. You are in no way separate from this.” His voice softened. “In the coming weeks you will be crowned, and then every action you take, every decision you tactlessly regard will ultimately affect the lives of many.”

  “See? This is why I didn’t want to be the queen. I’ve got you telling me I need to make decisions, Mike telling me not to because I have no idea what I’m doing and, inside, what I feel is right doesn’t match what everyone says is right. I’m just not ready for this.”

  “But you have no choice.” Arthur spoke louder. “You will be Queen, you will have to decide what is right or wrong, and sometimes it will be between the lesser of two evils. Sometimes, there is no circumventing the unpleasant.”

  “Why are you doing this, Arthur?” I swallowed a shaky lump of anguish. “What do you hope to achieve by making me feel even smaller, even more stupid than I already do?”

  “I just want you to wake up, my lady, and ask yourself what you plan to do, and why.”

  “I already know why. I just don’t know what.”

  “No. You know what you hope to achieve: peace among all. But you do not ask yourself why that matters, or why you choose to care.”

  “Why do I need to ask that?”

  “Because the answer to the what should always come after the why.”

  His words filtered through me, passing every channel of self-doubt, meeting with the stark blankness of confusion.

  “You must have a motive behind everything you do, Amara. Freeing the prisoners, disbanding the Sets, negotiating with Drake—if you can’t find a good reason why you feel it is necessary, then perhaps it is the wrong course of action.”

  “So, you think I should kill Drake?”

  “I think you should be sure about what you want to do, and why, before you do it.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Arthur.”

  “It is not my job to give opinion, my lady, only to help you find your own.”

  I sighed. He was so exhausting. “How will I know when I’ve found it?”

  “When you ask yourself why, and know the answer.”

  “Then I’ll never know which path to take. Because I don’t think I’ll ever approve of killing someone just because they oppose us.”

  “Then ask yourself why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you despise killing?”

  “Because it’s wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it hurts the people left behind.”

  He rubbed his brow. “I have seen many rise to power in my time, all of them with the best of intentions, and it is those philanthropic aspirations that ruin them. You can’t save everyone, Amara.”

  “I—” I stopped and really thought about what I wanted to say, but Shut up and leave me alone seemed to be all that came to mind. Although, that might have been the ogre talking.

  Arthur exhaled and tore his blue eyes away from my face as he brushed his hand through his messy hair. “You’re just a young girl,” he said softly, “and I do not mean to be harsh, but I do care. I care for you as a person and as ruler of a nation. I have lived many years, seen many political changes in the world. I know from experience that winning hearts can sustain dominance for only short periods. You will need cruel methods, possibly even death, to prevent opposition. And they will rise against you. I do not see vampires following willfully, even when you capture Drake and imprison him.”

  “Disbanding the Sets,” I said.

  “Yes. I can guarantee it will win hearts.” He laughed. “But it will see more problems than it will fix.”

  I shrugged. “Probably, but I’m really done arguing about it, Arthur. I’m tired, and I didn’t come out here”—I motioned to the garden—“for a political debate.”

  “I’m so sorry, my dear. That was not my intention, either. But the things you say—your views and opinions—they give me great cause for concern.” He clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. “There will come a time where you must choose a side and defend it. There will be no negotiating some things, and I just don’t want to see you heartbroken when you’re forced to make a decision that will cost lives. And one day, Princess, you will have to.”

  “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I feel strongly about this. I won’t see the demise of vampires for Lilithians to live, and I won’t see the same in reverse. We live in united peace, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “No, there is much, much more to it,” he said with a gentle laugh. “When two sides oppose, they fight until one yields, and—”

  “It doesn’t have to lead to war. No one has to die.”

  “For one, war does not always involve death, my dear, but without death, one side rarely surrenders. You do not wish to kill or be harsh to enforce your reign, but you want to be respected enough to be followed. You can’t buy peace with daisy chains, Amara.”

  “Well, if we have to go to war to achieve peace, then I guess we’ll go to war.”

  “So now you approve of killing to fight for your cause?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. If I have to.”

  He pressed his lips into a thin smile and looked to one side. “I’ve never known a girl who holds such strong values to be so easily led.”

  My mouth dropped. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean…” He sighed heavily. “You disapprove of killing and violence, yet if I were to forcefully disagree, convince you it was necessary, you would acquiesce, despite what you felt was the right course of action.”

  I looked down at my hands. “I’m just trying to get this right.”

  “Then listen to yourself, Amara. Do not allow other people’s opinions to shape you. I can see you clearly have a
great amount of respect for me, and while this is not only sweet but very flattering, it’s also dangerous. Your council has warned you that I may be a traitor, yet you take my word as vow.”

  “I can’t help it, Arthur. I just don’t think you’re the bad guy.”

  He smiled warmly. “Well, that leads me back to the point I was trying to make in the beginning: not that you must either kill or not kill, but to be sure it is what you believe to be right.”

  “And what if I’m wrong?”

  “Then you make a mistake, and you learn from it.”

  “Hang on, if I’m Queen, aren’t I supposed to behead my advisors when things go wrong?” I smirked at him.

  “Well,” Arthur said in a light, laughing tone, “if that’s the way Her Majesty demonstrates strength and governance, then I say behead me.”

  I laughed. “Aside from the fact that it’s impossible to behead a vampire, you know I wouldn’t really do that, right?”

  Arthur nodded. “That, my dear, is what worries me.”

  3

  I quickly learned that Lilithians and Vampires shared one common ground: they liked their traditions and formalities. Everyone at the dining table had remained upstanding until I was seated. I felt ridiculous dressing formally for dinner as it was, but having someone push my chair in, bow at me and then motion everyone else to sit made me just want to hide my face in my hand and laugh at them all.

  The seat mirroring mine—all the way down the other end of the giant table—was the only empty one: a place the king would sit when he returned or, according to my people, when I took a new husband. The knowledge that my David should be sitting there fourteen seats down from me, so far away but closer than he was now, made that chair seem like a vortex, ready to suck my composure up with one breath. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.

  “What’s up, baby?” Mike whispered, leaning in.

  “I’m okay. Just a bit of a headache.”

  “Don’t worry,” Morgaine said from the seat on my left. “Dinner will end soon enough, then we’ll all leave you alone for the next twelve hours. Sound good?”

  I smiled at her and leaned back in my chair. Down the other end of the table, too far away to yell hello to, Eric sent me a warm smile. Arthur looked up at him, following the direction of his eyes, then leaned in and whispered something that made Eric look away.