“The circumstances of this are highly unusual,” she explained to the audience, “as it is usually customary for the Communion of Blood to be conducted while the bloodspawn-to-be is still a human. However, I wish to make it quite clearly known to all that this is by no means any less sincere or binding of a ceremony.” To Raina, she asked, “Raina Delgado, are you fully aware of the consequences of this historic moment, and the grand commitment which we are about to make to one another?”
Raina lifted her gaze to look at her directly for the first time, her eyes appearing very wide in both fear and awe. Her chin was visibly quivering ever so slightly, but there were no tears in her eyes, and her voice was steady and confident as she replied, “Yes, I am.”
“And are you willing to hereby accept the responsibilities of the role and title that shall be bestowed upon you as you accept my blood into you?”
“Yes,” Raina replied confidently, “I do.”
“Very well,” Duvessa said with a nod. She pulled the long, dangling sleeve of her white silk gown up to her elbow, extending an upturned and bare palm in offering to the blade she held in her right hand. “As you have hereby offered yourself to me, so too shall I offer myself to you. May the shedding of my blood absolve you of your mortal debts, carrying you through death and into immortality.”
Sheathing the blade in the palm of her hand and wrapping her fingers around it tightly, Duvessa drew the dagger out with a sudden and theatrical stroke. With well-rehearsed precision, Ian quickly handed the Grand Duchess the flat black, rounded ceramic bowl as she exchanged it for the dagger, which he promptly re-sheathed in its leather home. Duvessa kept her hand cupped and her fingers curled in until she had the bowl held safely under it, whereupon she inverted her hand and splayed her fingers widely to spread the dual wounds to her palm and let it bleed. The bloodshed was not dramatic, but significant and swift enough to give a fair measure for the purposes of the ceremony. After approximately thirty seconds, she flexed her hand a few times to wring a bit more blood from her palm as the small trickle subsided to a dripping before glancing again to Ian. He wrapped her hand snugly with a black silk scarf and tucked its end under at the back of her knuckles, securing the already dwindling flow of her blood.
“Unto you, my blood, my body, and my life,” Duvessa said as she offered the small bowl to Raina.
She accepted it with visibly trembling hands, and for a moment she feared – perhaps sensing Raina’s own anticipation of error – that she might clumsily drop it, ruining the ceremony. Raina held fast to the bowl, however, and looked into it with wide eyes for a moment before glancing up to her. She knew what to do, surely, as William previously had explained it to her. However, she seemed to be seeking permission to continue. This gesture of subservience and respect was quite touching, thus reassuring Duvessa that she had indeed made an excellent choice in selecting this woman.
“Drink,” the Grand Duchess whispered to her with a warm smile.
Raina lifted the antique bowl to her lips, as so many others had done before her, and tilted it back. She suddenly recoiled a bit, hesitating as she took the bowl away from her mouth. Duvessa’s blood glistened with a wet, certain scarlet smear upon Raina’s lovely lips, and the sight of her almost shyly licking the blood from those already darkly-colored lips was simply enchanting. She had given her blood to many others before, but never before had Duvessa seen such innocence and beauty in the Communion of Blood. As she froze for a moment, her eyes seemed to relax upon the taste of that blood, and she then raised the bowl to her lips again to drink the rest. The muscles of her slender throat worked to swallow the blood without reluctance now, the thirst of her vampiric nature being sated for perhaps the first time ever. Raina drank all that she had been offered, and when she lowered the bowl at last, the heavy-lidded look in her eyes spoke of a thirst for more. Oh, what a dear she was!
“And so it is done,” Duvessa said softly. With a bit more volume, so that all could hear, she declared, “The Raina Delgado known to the world before is now dead and gone. By what name shall the world welcome your rebirth?”
Swallowing again before speaking, she replied, “Raina … Fallamhain.”
“Arise, alive and new … Duchess Raina Fallamhain,” she said, smiling at the sound of many gasps of surprise from the audience.
With a trembling, damp, clammy hand, Raina accepted Duvessa’s extended hand and arose to the sound of warm applause from the surrounding audience. Raina was keeping a brave face, but the tension within her was so stomach-knotting that even a blink of a glance into her lovely dark brown, almost black eyes was enough to convey two unmistakable words: Help me. Duvessa did her best to give her a reassuring smile as she turned her about so that they could face the bulk of the crowd, together. With a sweeping gesture of her right hand, she presented her newest official bloodspawn, and her heiress by blood, to the world.
The applause was brief, and as it subsided, Duvessa whispered into Raina’s ear, “I’m very proud of you, dear. You are handling this quite well.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a shy glance, before her gaze seemed to gravitate to Brenna, who stood in wait across the lobby.
She gestured to her assistant and nodded toward the direction from whence they had come, telling Raina, “Mary will show you to our room. I will be with you in just a few moments. We have much to discuss.”
“As you wish, your grace,” Raina replied with surprising eloquence. William had given her only a precursory amount of instruction in proper High Court etiquette and ceremonies. Raina seemed to have either studied these things in depth on her own, well in advance, or she truly had been destined for her role.
More and more, Duvessa was coming to appreciate this young woman’s potential. She had feared that her choice had been utterly foolish, having been made in desperate haste. Already, though, she now believed that she would have been hard-pressed to find a better heir or heiress than Raina, even if she had been given much more time to do so. Of course, these were only her initial impressions of the girl – these, as well as the facts that had led Duvessa to consider her in the first place. She had yet to examine and interview her at length. There was a strong possibility that she could learn of one or more details of her that would make her come to regret having drawn such a quickly favorable view of her, but it would take quite a bit to outweigh all that she had so far observed. She was an excellent judge of character … with two centuries’ worth of experience, of course.
Obediently, Raina followed Mary out of the lobby after Duvessa’s sword was returned, only giving one final glance over her shoulder to look at her friend as she left. With a gentle sigh, Duvessa turned to face the clear lesser of her two acquisitions. It was not without difficulty, but she nevertheless managed to maintain her professional smile as she motioned for Brenna to approach her.
Brenna appeared far more confident and relaxed than Raina, almost defiant as she approached with what was perhaps a deliberately exaggerated swaying of her hips. She was no stranger to public observance, not the least bit shy at all about being the center of attention in a room full of strangers. She knew that all eyes were upon her, and she knew how to walk and carry herself with a sexy sense of self-assurance. However, what she hid so well from everyone else and only Duvessa could sense within her was an unmistakable sense of dread and fear that rivaled Raina’s social anxieties. Brenna was not afraid of being the focus of many stares, but rather she feared the cold gaze of one pair of eyes, in particular.
Their last exchange of words had been less than cordial, to say the least. Duvessa was only mildly impressed with what she saw to go with the voice and attitude with whom she had dealt over the phone prior to this occasion. Yes, Brenna was attractive, and yes, she could handle herself in a position of public attention … but the question of whether or not she would be a worthwhile addition to the House of Fallamhain, even as a servant, left Duvessa with many doubts.
Her loyalty to Raina was steadfast, but could the sam
e be said for her commitment to the Fallamhain bloodline? Would her ego surpass her common sense? Could her brash demeanor, crude speech, and short temper be overcome with discipline and cultural enrichment? Essentially, to summarize it all: Would she be a valuable asset or a troublesome responsibility to the House of Fallamhain? Even now, she had not yet decided that. But she had, at the very least, decided what needed to be done.
Duvessa tightened her grip upon the sword in her hands, visualizing exactly what she wanted to do with it. Brenna stopped at approximately ten paces’ distance and dropped to not one but both knees, placing her hands in her lap and bowing her head solemnly. The gesture appeared distinctly Asian, like a subservient common peasant approaching an empress. It pleased the Grand Duchess that Brenna was willing and able to publicly acknowledge not only her status as a Commoner before a High Court, but also her appropriate exhibition of submissiveness in remorse for her prior actions. While it would have pleased her even more to literally have this Commoner groveling at her feet and begging for mercy, such a display of regret and humiliation was not appropriate for this particular forum – among the High Court, yes, but not in the presence of humanity.
“And who is this,” the Grand Duchess asked with enough volume for all to hear, “that I should kindly thank for seeing to the safety and survival of my heiress? What is your name?”
“Brenna Douglass, your grace,” she replied solemnly without lifting her face to return her gaze. She spoke only with enough voice to be heard by Duvessa, rather than the crowd.
“Brenna Douglass,” the Grand Duchess declared, so that others may hear her name. “Your deeds were quite brave and selfless. You sacrificed your own blood and risked your own life for the sake of seeing that my heiress would survive her Change, as well as the threat of my enemies’ murderous intentions of conquest. For this, you have my sincerest gratitude.” She paused a moment, lowering her voice enough that only Brenna could hear her. “However, your involvement of the human authorities compromised your ability to properly protect my heiress. Furthermore, your inability to hold your tongue and address me with proper respect has placed your life in jeopardy. These transgressions carry with them a terrible price. Are you aware of this?”
“Yes, your grace,” Brenna replied submissively. Her fear was so thick that it was nearly choking in its intensity, clenching deeply and tightly within Duvessa. She could practically taste her fear. Delicious!
“Are you prepared, then, to accept the consequences of your actions and pay the price for your misdeeds?” the Grand Duchess asked her.
Hesitantly, her head still bowed, Brenna finally replied, “Yes … your grace. I am.”
Duvessa glanced to Ian, summoning him with a nod. He approached and took his place beside her. With a delightful metallic dragging clang that was loud in the almost absolute silence of the lobby full of enrapt witnesses, Duvessa drew her sword and held it aloft, pointing it directly skyward as she handed the scabbard to Ian, wisely then who stepped away with it. Brenna actually flinched at the sound of the blade clearing its sheath. Duvessa then took the broadsword into both hands, holding it at ready. One downward stroke, clean and sure, and she could end this bit of trouble before it became much more of a nuisance.
And so she did bring down the blade upon Brenna, eliciting gasps from some in the audience, but she did so slowly, gently laying the flat of the blade’s tip upon her right shoulder. Brenna visibly jumped with fear at the touch of the length of metal upon her bared skin … not only because it was cold, but because she had expected it first to contact her neck.
The Grand Duchess tapped that shoulder, then the other, then the right once more, declaring, “I do hereby charge you, Brenna Douglass, with the authority of a Lady of the House of Fallamhain, to serve and obey Duchess Raina Fallamhain, and to ensure the preservation of the Fallamhain bloodline. Arise, Lady Brenna Fallamhain.”
It took several long seconds for Brenna to overcome her shock before she finally looked up. Those vivid emerald green eyes of hers were truly striking, all the more so when seen from where she knelt so subserviently before the Grand Duchess. The look upon her face matched the utter disbelief that Duvessa sensed from her as she received the scabbard again from Ian and deftly re-sheathed the broadsword.
“It’s okay, dear,” she told Brenna with a kind smile, “I mean you no harm. Come. Stand with me.”
Reluctantly, Brenna accepted the Grand Duchess’s hand and arose with surprising ease and grace, in spite of the manner by which she had been kneeling. At this close range of arms’ length, Brenna’s height was almost intimidating, but she still seemed quite afraid of her new head mistress … and rightfully so. While she was already beginning to feel greatly relieved not to have been decapitated in public, Brenna still surely had no idea that the Grand Duchess had not truly forgiven her sins completely, nor did she apparently grasp the reality of her sentence. Soon enough, Duvessa thought to herself with a smile, Brenna would come to understand. She truly hoped to be present to see the look upon her face, and to feel the emotions racing through her, when the moment would inevitably come that Brenna realized just what kind of an obligation she had just made for herself.
* * * *
Chapter Twenty
Raina’s heart rate had only just begun to settle as she stood in the middle of the hotel’s plush, upscale, dimly-lit suite. She was still nervously wringing her hands when the Grand Duchess and the rest of her small entourage entered. Ian was followed by Brenna, then the Grand Duchess, then William, and lastly Robert, filing into the room and taking their places in the room with an almost rehearsed ease. Brenna moved to stand with Raina, while everyone else seemed to form a circle of sorts around them. With all of the aforementioned individuals, in addition to Jen and Loki, the den of the suite that had otherwise been quite large now seemed almost totally cramped for space.
The mood was not quite stuffy, surprisingly. Lady Mary, who had been Raina’s body double when leaving the hospital, had seemed to regard Raina with the friendliness of a veteran co-worker, having insisted that she drop the formality of calling her “Lady” as she tried to strike up a conversation with her during their brief wait for the end of Brenna’s ceremony. Raina was still too jittery to be much of a conversationalist at the moment, of course. Loki had quite leisurely kicked back on one of the sofas, propping his legs upon Jen’s knees as she sat quite calmly with an elbow leaning upon the beige leather arm of the sofa, idly twirling a few locks of her shoulder-length, wavy, dark brunette hair. Mary cuddled up to Ian affectionately where he stood by the closed front door, perhaps silently asserting her territory to these new members of their House, while William and Robert flanked the Grand Duchess on either side with blank expressions, like two perfectly disciplined guard dogs.
The Grand Duchess paused for a moment after entering, as though for dramatic effect. She was beyond beautiful, almost ethereal in her form and attire. The long, flowing white silk gown that she wore was both conservative and provocative, as it clung to her lithe, supple figure in all the right places without revealing anything unnecessarily. The bottom half of her sleeves nearly extended to the floor, the neckline of the front dipped very modestly down just below the pit of her throat, and her back was adorned with what almost appeared to be a white silk cape, much like a shortened version of the train of a wedding dress. Her blazingly vibrant but naturally colored red hair was tied back into a thick braided tail that had a pair of thin golden ribbons carefully woven into it, and her trademark golden ankh hung neatly in exact place between her pert breasts. Holding her ceremonial broadsword in both hands, she smiled as she allowed the tip of its sheath to butt against the floor before tilting its hilt toward William.
“Well then,” she said with a sigh of obvious relief as William accepted the sword, “now that the worst of this occasion has finally passed, we can afford to unwind a bit. Would either of you care for a drink?”
Raina and Brenna turned to one another and exchanged a glance that wa
s first surprised, then knowing and amused. As one, they both turned to the Grand Duchess with matching smiles and replied, “Absolutely.”
“Lovely. I was assured by the staff of this establishment that our suite would be fully stocked, and I certainly do intend to test it,” she declared as she casually stepped around the sofa upon which Loki and Jen were loafing about. “You both are a tangled mess of nerves right now, and all that anxiety is putting me a bit on edge, as well, so it would behoove me to put you both at ease.”
The Grand Duchess made a shooing gesture at Loki and Jen, and they both promptly arose and stood aside while Raina and Brenna were invited to sit in their place. Without being prompted to do so, William pulled a plush leather chair into position directly across from them, and the Grand Duchess sat down in it without so much as a glance over her shoulder, with the elegant sort of practiced grace that surely came with having been royalty for so long.
Speaking for the first time that Raina could yet recall, Robert declared from across the room with an accent she couldn’t place, “Your grace, we have a bottle of champagne, compliments of the hotel manager.”
Raina glanced over to see him raising a bottle from its ice bucket, reading its label. While she had previously favored to look at William, she could easily admit that Robert was quite appealing in his own right … perhaps even more so, now that she had heard him speak. There was an automatic familiarity about him, something very comforting and soothing. She quickly turned away, however, as it occurred to her from where much of that supposed familiarity originated. Her eyes drifted back to the Grand Duchess, who seemed to have immediately sensed her diverted attention … perhaps even having read her very thoughts. This was going to be very awkward, she thought, being around someone that always knew what was on her mind, no matter how she might try to conceal it.
The Darkest Colors Page 35