by T. S. Ryder
One afternoon, when Alastair was gone, she put her hands on her stomach, her palm flat against her flesh as a wave of nausea passed through her. “Is that you, little baby?” she asked the air. It made sense. She and Alastair had been with each other practically every night. This was the logical conclusion of those activities: a baby. She could see it in her mind. It would be a boy who would have Alastair’s dark eyes and hair. She could see him running along the ramparts, her heart swelled at the thought. A baby. She had never wanted one before. They had seemed like too much trouble and work, but that had been in her old life with her abusive father. Now, with Alastair, things could be different. She could have a real family. Or, could she?
She was lost in her thoughts thinking about her baby when suddenly the door to the room opened. Avery sat up in shock. The only person who entered without knocking was Alastair himself. But it was not her lover who looked back at her from the doorway, it was her brother.
Avery was frozen with fear. Her violent, drunk, angry brother was here. Her brother who had more than once tried to sell her away to the brothels in town. Her brother that used to take her food and make her walk alongside the caravans. In an instant, she was a little girl again. She wasn’t the mistress of the Crown Prince, but a scared child.
He was dressed like a guard, but the uniform was ill-fitting. He must have bought or stolen it from somewhere. He removed his helmet and let out a low whistle as he looked around the lavish suites.
“You’ve done well for yourself since our father’s murder,” he said.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. Slowly, her senses were coming back to her and she realized he had no power over her. All she needed to do was to scream and the guards would come running. They would capture Tristan and toss him into the deepest dungeon and he would never bother her again.
“Now, now, don’t go doing anything as foolish as calling the guards,” Tristan said. “Believe it or not, I’m here to help you, sister dear.”
“I don’t want your help,” Avery said. “I want you to leave or I’ll scream.”
“If you scream for the guards and you’ll be dead before morning, killed by the Vampire Princess herself. Trust me, Avery, you want to hear what I have to say.”
“How did you find me?” Avery asked, her voice a low whisper. Myrcel, of course it was Myrcel who was destroying her happiness. She thought of the tiny thing growing in her womb. Could she know already?
“A few of the women from the caravan turned up on the streets. They told me the Vampire Prince had taken a shine to you. I didn’t believe them, but I had to find out for myself. I play cards with some of the palace guards and one of them owed me quite a bit of money. I agreed to make it all go away if he would let me borrow his uniform. I promised not to steal or kill anyone while I was here. I had to see for myself if my idiot sister was the newest whore of the palace.”
She couldn’t stop her cheeks from flushing. A whore, is that all she was? It wasn’t right, he didn’t understand. Alistair loved her. She wasn’t some disposable thing to him. Or was she?
“Have you ever heard the prophecy of Celisa?” he continued. “She was a prophet who lived at the Temple of Four Boulders, five generations ago. She prophesied the break-up of the Varlyn and the creation of the Severed Lands. She knew everything that would happen. She knew about the betrayal by Thorne and the breaking away of the Fire Islands. No one believed her, but she was right.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Avery asked her brother. She should scream or make him leave, but his threat still hung in the air. Myrcel was the only thing that Avery feared. Avery meant nothing to her and Myrcel could kill the nomad and forget all about it by the next day.
“Celisa had another prophecy, one that you fit, dear sister.”
Avery’s heart stopped. A prophecy about her? It wasn’t possible.
“On the seventh full moon of a red year, the only daughter of a seventh son of the lands of Mygie will lie with a Vampire Prince,” he advanced on her as he quoted the prophecy. As she backed away from him, he continued. “Our father was the seventh son and you are his only daughter. Our family came from Mygie. In nine months’ time, she will bear him a son born on a moonless night. Half-human half-vampire, he will be beautiful and terrible to behold. He will conquer the world and reunite the Severed Kingdoms. He shall be the greatest King that Varlyn has ever seen. The world will shudder from his power.”
“That could be about anyone,” she said shaking her head.
“Yeah, that’s the whole point of prophecy, you idiot. Anyone can fit into it. But smart people know to take advantage of that.”
“How am I supposed to take advantage of that?”
“You don’t,” he said, leering at her. “I do.” He walked over to a golden chalice, a trophy Alastair had won. Tristan picked it up, running his hands over the embossed gold, as he held it up to the light to watch his reflection.
“I want money, gold, jewels, whatever you can get me. In return, I won’t tell the Vampire Princess that you are the only daughter the prophecy speaks of. Fortunately, not many have heard of Celise of Four Boulders. Outside of The Sands, the prophecy is not well known. But word could easily be spread. Can you imagine what would happen if people knew? You would be a walking target, little sister,” her brother continued.
“I’m not pregnant,” she said. But her voice wavered. Even she could hear the lie.
“Please, look at you,” he said, disgust dripping from his voice. “Vampires don’t know what to look for, but I do. I can see the curves on you, you’re practically glowing.”
She shook her head and backed away from him, cursing her upbringing. They had been taught at an early age how to read people. They understood signs better, which profited their survival and their thievery.
“I’ll be back in two days, returning at this time. Your vampire lover will not be here and you will have enough treasure to make me happy. Trust me when I tell you that if you try and trick me, or tell your lover about what I said—word will get out. Even if I am dead or in jail, word will get out. I know what I’m doing little sister. Do not, for even one moment, think you’re smarter than I.”
He turned and left. She couldn’t quite believe it. The words of the prophecy echoed in her ears. Was it possible, could it be right? She was the only daughter of a seventh son and while she didn’t remember lying with Alastair on the full moon of the seventh month, it was more than likely they had.
She pulled out his calendar of the cycles of the moon. Yes, the timing was right. It was now almost the end of the eight month and they had definitely lain together during the seventh. She was pregnant, but not too far along.
She pressed her hands to her stomach. She still couldn’t feel anything there. It was too soon. But was it possible? Did she carry the child who would reunite the lands?
Chapter Nine
Alastair sat across from his father. They were lunching on an ocean-front balcony outside of his father’s room. The sea spray tossed his hair about. They had both fed from two female servants, cute pliant little things, proud to be fed upon by the King and the Crown Prince.
They tasted sweet. Alastair knew that he needed to feed on humans other than Avery. He preferred her healthy and strong rather than pale and weak. He had restricted his feeding to their lovemaking, feeding off his servants the rest of the time. Avery had spoiled him. Even these sweet little servants weren’t enough for him anymore. He only wanted one thing.
“You leave for The Sands in a fortnight. How are the preparations going?” his father asked.
“Well,” Alastair said with a nod. “My men are eager to get back out into the field. They are still drunk on their success from the last battle at the borders. It made them all wealthy men, and now they are eager for more.”
“Good,” his father said as he watched the servants pull up their dresses and leave. Once they were alone, his manner changed. He relaxed back in his chair and gave his son a mischiev
ous grin. “Will you bring your new favorite human with you?”
Alastair was shocked. He stared at his father wondering how the old man had heard. He had struggled so hard to keep Avery his secret. She was always in his rooms. Occasionally she would go stir crazy and beg to go out into the streets, so on those days he would dress her as a servant and Sir Reese would sneak her in and out of the palace.
“There are no secrets in the palace,” his father said with a chuckle. “Trying to keep one is a fool's errand. I’ll be honest, my boy. I was surprised to hear she was still here. Normally you grow bored after a few days.
“She’s different,” Alastair said. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss with his father, yet he could not deny the wisdom of the King. He was the only person who knew what Alastair was going through.
“Do you love her?” the King asked.
“I do,” Alastair said quietly. “She is the only thing that I want.”
His father nodded and reached down underneath his chair and pulled up an elaborately carved box. The box was made of deep dark wood with a delicate rose carved in the top. Alastair opened the box and saw a stunning piece of jewelry. It was a necklace, worn high up on the throat. There was a large red gemstone in the center, surrounded by diamonds on gold chains.
“The Flower of the Court,” his father said. “No has worn it since Alisia passed. Give it to your human.”
“I thought the flower was only for vampires,” Alastair said staring down at the expensive jewels beneath him. He ran his hands over the hard gemstone and imagined himself placing it upon Avery’s neck.
His father waved his hand away. “The Flower of the Court is given at the discretion of the King, or the Crown Prince. It is a marker that the woman who wears it is favored by royalty. No one will touch her. She may come and go as she pleases. That’s what this was made for. Human or vampire, she brings you joy. Ours is a difficult role, you should enjoy the few pleasures given to you.”
“Myrcel will not be pleased. She is already unhappy about Avery,” Alastair continued. It felt strange to speak her name in front of his father. She had been his secret, but soon everyone would know her. She would have status and she could come to dinners and events. She would be protected.
“Myrcel is never pleased and she bares you no sons. A woman should not make her bed an icy chamber. It should be kept warm and sweet for her husband. But when your human wears this, she will be untouchable, even by the Princess,” the King shook his head and stared out over the sea. “You and Myrcel were a logical union. It does not surprise me that there is no love there. I was the one who yoked the two of you together. Now I give you this, that you may experience happiness and love. Make it known that she is yours. Claim her, love her.”
“Thank you, father,” Alastair said.
He carried the heavy box back to his chambers, tracing his hand over the rose carved into the lid. He remembered his father’s Flower of the Court, a stunning vampire named Alisia. She had been kind and sweet. In fact, his mother had been fond of Alisia, the courtesan took pressure off of the Queen.
There was no chance Myrcel would feel the same way. But a Flower was the King’s right and Myrcel would have no choice but to accept it.
Was it possible that Avery was growing more beautiful? She seemed even shapelier than she had before. Her breasts seemed bigger and there was a glow about her face that could not be denied. She sat up when he entered, her eyes wide.
“How is your father?” she asked.
“Well,” he answered. She was on the bed and he sat down next to her presenting the heavy box. “I have a gift for you.”
She looked down at the box and then up at him. Even after all of this time, she never asked for or expected extravagant gifts. He could not help but reach out and caress her cheek.
“The gift is inside the box,” he said with a gentle chuckle. “Open it.”
Her eyes went wide and she gasped, placing her hand on her hollow of her throat as she stared at the jewels. He could see the shining red rubies reflected in her grey eyes. She shook her head.
“It is too much, My Lord,” her voice was a gasping breath as she looked between him and jewels over and over again as if she couldn’t believe it.
“You have not called me My Lord in a long time,” he said as he removed the elaborate necklace. “Let’s not fall back on old habits. This is not just any ordinary necklace. This is only worn by The Flower of the Court.” She looked up at him in confusion. “The Flower of the Court is the title of the King or Crown Prince’s official mistress. It protects her. It allows her to go anywhere she wishes in the castle. My father gave it to me. He knows about you and he approves. This is yours now. You are my flower and now everyone will know it.”
“But what about...” it was as if she couldn’t say the name.
“You need not worry about Myrcel. She knows what this means and she has no power over it.”
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “It’s too much. I don’t deserve this.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. He stood up and moved behind her. He brushed her hair aside and leaned down and kissed her, feeling her heartbeat and warmth beneath his lips. He placed the necklace on her, wrapping it around her throat and clasping it at the back of her neck.
She touched the gems with her fingers, parting her lips in the most evocative way.
“Avery,” he said sitting back down in front of her and taking her hands in his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said and she leaned towards him. He kissed her deeply, feeling the necklace underneath his hands when he touched her.
“My flower,” he whispered into her ear.
She pulled away from him and opened her mouth as if to say something, but then she just shook her head and pulled him into a hard hug. She clung to him, her hands clutching him and holding him tightly as if she would never let him go.
“I love you,” she whispered over and over again as he kissed the crown of her head.
This was so perfect. This was so right. After Myrcel, he never thought he would experience love. He thought his life would be filled with her cold bed and the occasional night at a brothel. Now he had this wonderful warm woman in his arms and he was never letting her go.
Chapter Ten
Avery couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. The necklace Alastair had given her was the most expensive thing she had ever seen and now she was actually wearing it around as if it were nothing. It glittered and shone in the light. She turned her head this way and that admiring her glamorous reflection.
She still hadn’t worn it outside of the rooms. She knew that was the whole point, but she was too scared of Myrcel and her brother’s threats. She didn’t know what to do about it. She should tell Alastair, but she wasn’t ready for him to know of the prophecy. It would change everything. She would no longer be his simple human companion, but something else, something bigger. Her life and the life of her baby would be out of her control.
She placed her hands on her belly. If this baby was the fulfillment of the prophecy, it would always be in danger. Even inside of her. She loved the little thing more than she ever could have imagined. She would have done anything to protect it. She didn’t care about the prophecy, she cared about her baby. But she would be the only one who did.
Alastair would soon be leaving on his expedition to The Sands. She had begged him to take her along. She knew how to survive long journeys and she would help, not be in the way. He finally agreed, but if he knew she was pregnant, he would never let her go. He would make her stay here. She would be trapped in the palace run by a princess who hated her, she would be alone and unsafe.
There had been pregnant women on the caravan. They had survived and given birth to healthy babies. Avery could do the same. By the time she was showing, they would be halfway there and it would be too dangerous to send her back alone.
She just needed to make it to their departure. They left in twelve days. Sh
e just needed to keep the pregnancy a secret, stay away from the Queen and avoid her brother for twelve days and then everything would be alright. Twelve more days.
There was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Avery said, quickly removing the necklace and putting it back in the box. It was too much, too fine. She wasn’t ready to be seen in it.
A servant entered the room, a tall, strong female vampire. Avery looked at her in confusion. She carried nothing in her hands other than a long black piece of cloth. “What are you doing here?” Avery asked.
The vampire gave her a cruel smile and then suddenly she was advancing. She was terribly fast and strong. In a moment, the black fabric was over Avery’s head and she was being wrapped up in it. She screamed, but the fabric muffled her voice. In mere moments she was trapped, her arms pinned to her sides.
She struggled as hard as she could, but it was no use. She was confined in the fabric and the strong arms of the woman. She was lifted off her feet and tossed over the vampire’s shoulder. They made a left-hand turn at the door and then they were hurrying somewhere.
“Help! Let me go! Someone help!” Avery struggled, but it was in vain. She fought as hard as she could, but it was futile. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew who had her. Myrcel. It had to be. She thought of the little thing growing inside of her. Did Myrcel know? What was she going to do? Why hadn’t she told Alastair? If only she had told him, he would have protected her. How long was he going to be gone? How long would it take for someone to know she was missing?
They were going down, she could feel as they descended a steep set of stairs. The dungeon, that was where they were taking her. Down and down they went as the air around her grew cold and damp. She could hear someone far off moaning in pain.
Finally, they reached level ground. The vampire took a few steps and then threw Avery roughly onto the cold, wet floor where she was unraveled from the fabric until finally she was free.