by Kallysten
“An oath?” Vivien repeated. “You mean, like my guards?”
Doril nodded. “In times such as these, it is not unheard of for all staff in a castle to swear. And should you require it of me, I would be happy to take the oath.”
The notion troubled Vivien, more so than Doril would have understood if Vivien had tried to explain. She already had issues understanding the oath to protect her that Brad and Aedan had sworn when they’d been only children. She couldn’t imagine asking anyone else to swear as well and tie their lives to hers.
“No oath,” she said with another small smile. “I trust you. And also… I don’t believe I thanked you for coming back to the castle when you heard of my return. So there you go. Thank you. It was brave of you, I do realize that. And I am grateful for your trust in me.”
Had Vivien’s globe still been hanging over them, it might have turned scarlet as she stretched the truth to the point of breaking. No, she was not grateful for Doril’s trust. She didn’t want anyone to put such faith in her when she hardly knew what she was doing.
If she failed, if Rhuinn defeated her in their upcoming duels, then anyone who had shown allegiance to her would be in danger. It wasn’t anything she wanted to be responsible for, but she hadn’t been given much choice. And as she watched Doril practically glow with pride, she realized that her words, although not fully sincere, were appreciated. It made it worth offering them.
“Do you need anything else, my lady?” Doril asked. “Will you need assistance getting dressed?”
Vivien was almost proud of herself when she managed not to grimace. That had been the hardest part for her about having a handmaid, and she intended to dispense with one from now on. Or at least she would dispense with one until Aedan nagged her into submission—again.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied. “Thank you. And thank you for my breakfast. You may go.”
With another small bow, Doril left the room. Vivien turned her attention back to the breakfast tray. The coffee was no more than tepid now; the toast, cold. Still, she was famished, and finished every last bit of food before washing up and getting dressed.
She’d have liked to slide on a tee-shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans, but she reminded herself that everything was about appearances. If she couldn’t dress the part for the people in her own castle and have them see her as queen, who would ever take her seriously?
It meant putting on one of her mother’s dresses, one of the dresses Loree had altered to fit her before she’d revealed herself as a traitor and murderer. Vivien would have to learn not to think of that.
She chose one of the simplest dresses, with sleeves that stopped just past her elbows, a skirt that brushed the floor, and very little embroidery. Most importantly, it fastened in the front. It wasn’t an accident that it happened to be the same shade of blue as Brad’s eyes.
Next, she pinned the QuickSilver insignia over her heart. She’d cleaned off Brad’s blood from the silver the previous night before going to bed, polishing each swirl of the Celtic-looking symbol, and the entire time thinking of the silver tattoo in the same shape that glittered on Brad’s wrist.
Thinking of Brad, too.
When she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t see a potential queen, or the dame in control of everything like she had tried to act for Doril earlier. She only saw Vivien, the girl who was still shaken by her boyfriend dying and coming back to life as a vampire.
She wondered if he’d be there when she came out of her chambers, guarding her door—and suddenly waiting even one more second to see him was intolerable. She didn’t run, but it was a close thing, and her hand was shaking when she opened the door to the hallway.
CHAPTER FIVE
Limits
A little less than half an hour after Doril had left the chambers, the door opened again, and Dame Vivien appeared. Aedan, who had been leaning back against the wall across from the door, straightened up at once and gave a formal bow.
“Blessings, Dame Vivien.”
The look of expectation, or maybe even hope on her features vanished, along with her smile. Aedan had no trouble imagining that she’d thought she might find Bradan guarding her door. He answered the question he was sure she would ask before she needed to voice it.
“Bradan is resting. We had a long night.”
“Oh, of course.”
She stepped out of the chambers, standing in front of Aedan rather than starting down the hallway.
“How is he?” she asked. “I mean… He’s a vampire, I know that, but… His wound? Does he still… hurt?”
How strange that Aedan could still be surprised at how little she knew of their world…
“He’s fine,” he said. “Vampires heal fast. There’s barely a scar left.”
Had he been a vampire before getting wounded, there wouldn’t even have been that much. But he’d been human, and that scar would be the last one to mar his skin permanently, much like the fang scars at the crook of Aedan’s neck, left there by his Maker when she had turned him.
“I’m glad,” Dame Vivien murmured. “I’m glad he’s fine. And glad you saved him.”
She was smiling when she finished. It wasn’t often she granted Aedan a smile. He couldn’t think of any time when he’d less deserved it. ‘Saved’ wasn’t the word he’d have used to describe what he’d done to his brother. Still, he couldn’t say as much now, not to his dame. To hide his discomfort, he offered another small bow.
“Where to, Dame Vivien?”
She gave him an eye roll before starting down the hallway. Aedan followed, one step back and to the side.
“And we’re back to ‘Dame Vivien,’ I see,” she said with a sigh. “You called me Vivien yesterday. I didn’t mind, you know.”
When he didn’t reply, she glanced back at him. She expected an answer, but what could he tell her that he hadn’t already said? He’d noticed how annoyed she became if he pointed out that something wasn’t proper, and decided it’d be wiser not to use that term around her.
“Yesterday, I was upset,” he finally said, and the words came out with some difficulty. He didn’t like admitting his own weaknesses. “I wasn’t thinking. I’d offer an apology for it, but I know you would be more offended by the apology than you were by my slip of the tongue.”
Her snort didn’t sound dame-like in the slightest, but it was rather adorable.
“Well, at least you’ve got one thing right,” she muttered.
They’d reached the first floor, and with a shake of her head, she entered the library. Aedan, as he always did, stopped at the door. She started to say something about Doril, but fell silent when she realized he hadn’t followed her inside. She frowned as she considered him.
“Why do you always do that?” she asked. “You never come in unless I ask you to.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Can you come in if I don’t ask you to? On Earth, there’s this thing about vampires. In movies and stuff, they can’t enter a house unless someone invites them in. Is it the same thing? Is that why…”
She’d been talking excitedly, but her voice trailed off when Aedan shook his head. He wasn’t sure what ‘movies and stuff’ meant, but she only had half of it right.
“It is correct that I can’t enter a dwelling unless someone there has invited me to do so,” he explained. “But once I am invited inside, I can go anywhere within. I’ve been trying to give you privacy, Dame Vivien. You made it clear that you care little for my company.”
Something passed through her eyes, dark and sad, and Aedan had no idea what it meant. Had he offended her without meaning to? Upset her in some way he didn’t understand? Discreetly, he sniffed the air, but all he caught on her scent was the floral perfume of her soap.
“I don’t mind company,” she said, stepping over to an armchair and sitting down. “I mind people trying to manipulate me and telling me what to do. Not just you, people in general. Now get in here and sit so we can talk.”
Getting in was easy enough, and they ha
d indeed a lot to talk about, but as for sitting… Aedan was about to say he preferred to remain standing when he noticed how closely she was observing him. Now might not be the time to insist on proprieties even more than he already had.
He turned one of the armchairs by the fireplace toward her and sat down, uncomfortable and stiff, yet glad when she gave a nod of approval. In truth, sitting down was something of a relief. Bradan wasn’t the only one who’d had a long night.
“All right,” she said. “First things first. When Doril brought me breakfast, I used the Quickening to make sure she’s loyal to me. I’m going to do the same thing with Elver, and from now on anyone coming to work in the castle will have to prove to me they’re not lying about their intentions. How does that sound?”
Aedan observed her, confused.
“Well, assuring yourself of your people’s loyalty is a good thing, certainly, Dame Vivien. Especially since we need to find you more guards. But I’m not sure what you mean when you say you used the Quickening for that.”
In his mind, he could see Doril walking out of the chambers again. She had seemed no different than when she had first walked in, nor had she seemed hurt or upset in any way.
“It’s like… a lie detector,” Dame Vivien, gesturing with one hand as though it would clarify her words. At Aedan’s blank look, she grinned. “And that doesn’t help you one bit, seeing how that’s an Earth thing. Okay, it works like this.”
She took a deep breath, and her gaze changed, became more focused. Aedan had seen her look that way before when she was channeling. As a vampire, he couldn’t see the Quickening flow out of her, but he could imagine the color sparks surrounding her and magnifying her beauty. He only had time to tell himself he envied Bradan for being able to see that before he remembered: Bradan would never see her channel again.
What Aedan did see was what he supposed to be the result of her channeling: a ball of white light hovering by his shoulder.
“Tell me a lie,” Dame Vivien demanded.
Aedan blinked, his gaze drifting from the ball of light back to her.
“Dame Vivien?” he said, unsure what she meant.
“Tell me a lie, and I’ll show you how my trick works. Here. Why don’t you tell me you enjoy going to Earth?”
Still not certain what this was all about, Aedan did as she asked.
“I enjoy going to the Otherworld.”
It was, as she had guessed, a lie. Next to him, the ball of light turned bright red. She beamed.
“All right. Now say something true.”
“Dame Vivien… I don’t understand.”
The color of the light shifted from a bright red to deep green, and Aedan thought he might be starting to understand. He observed the ball of light more closely, even raising a hand to it. There was nothing there for him to touch, and his hand slipped right through it.
“Red for a lie, green for the truth, is that it?”
When he looked back at Dame Vivien, concern flashed through him, and he sprung out of his chair. Sweat was beading on her forehead, she was gripping the armrests of her chair, and her heartbeat suddenly sounded strained.
“Release it,” he said, dropping down to one knee in front of her. “Dame Vivien, it’s too much. Let it go or you’ll hurt yourself.”
She didn’t seem to hear him, however, and her eyes remained fixated behind him, on the light she was channeling, he supposed. He’d seen people look like that before when too much Quickening flowed through them, taking over their mind. It had happened to him, too, once or twice, back when he was still learning, still growing into his power, still testing his own limits.
Channeling too intensely wasn’t dangerous per se, but it could leave her unable to use the Quickening for a few hours, even a few days, and she couldn’t afford that.
“Look at me,” he said in a urgent tone, laying his hand on top of hers on the armrest. “Vivien, look at me.”
He’d intended to break her focus, but had not realized that, when she turned her gaze to him, she’d direct the flow of Quickening toward him. He gasped as pure warmth seeped through him. He’d felt this before, when she and Bradan had lain together, when love, desire, and pleasure had flooded the bond he shared with his twin and brought him to his knees.
A tiny part of him was glad he already was on his knees. Another part reveled in the contact, as elusive as it was: this time it was his, truly his, and not an echo of what belonged to his brother. More than anything, though, he knew that he had to stop this. Stop her. Now. Before he embarrassed himself in front of her. Before she realized how deeply she affected him.
“Please, stop,” he said, and his words were no more than a whisper. Of its own accord, his hand closed over hers. Such a small touch when he wanted to feel all of her… “Vivien, please.”
And he didn’t know what he was pleading for, didn’t even realize that he’d called her by only her name twice already, didn’t know anything anymore except that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, the only woman he’d ever loved, and she was looking at him as though seeing him for the first time, as though—
“Vivien? Aedan? What’s going on?”
Dame Vivien’s gaze lifted off Aedan, and with it, the Quickening. All Aedan could do was watch as she practically jumped to her feet, pulling her hand from under his and brushing against him as she surged forward toward Bradan.
Fear flooded Aedan and washed away every trace of desire. He stumbled to his feet, and turned in time to watch his dame throw her arms around Bradan’s neck, much as she had the previous night. Aedan ground his teeth, closed his fists, and moved closer, ready to intervene.
He’d meant to talk to her about this, and try to explain how difficult it could be for a newly-turned vampire to interact with humans, but it was too late now. What could he do? Pull her away from Bradan?
No, he couldn’t lay a hand on her. It wasn’t right for him to do so. He’d only touched her hand moments ago to pull her out of her channeling. And his mind had been too jumbled to think straight when he’d called her by her name. He had a grip on himself now, and even the feelings of need and love transpiring through the bond didn’t distract him. Nor did they conceal from him the hunger rising in Bradan.
When Bradan’s arms started to close around their dame’s waist, Aedan cleared his throat, drawing Bradan’s eyes to him. A deep frown and a quick shake of Aedan’s head were enough to remind Bradan of what was proper—and more importantly, what was safe.
With a tense smile, Bradan took a half step back. Reaching for Dame Vivien’s hands, he unwound them from around his neck and held them in his, bringing each to his lips in turn to kiss her knuckles.
“How are you?” Dame Vivien asked. “Do you feel all right? Aedan said your wound is healed.”
Aedan felt a sting at her words. Did she not believe him that she had to ask the same question to Bradan that Aedan had already answered?
“I’m fine,” Bradan assured her. “I should be asking you that. Were you channeling just now? You looked…”
His eyes flashed toward Aedan; they were pure silver. There was no doubt in Aedan’s mind that the bond had carried how much Dame Vivien’s channeling had affected him. Why else would Bradan have walked in on them at that very moment?
“You looked like you were channeling a large flow of Quickening,” Bradan finished.
“I was,” Dame Vivien said, then interrupted herself and frowned. “Well, no, not at first, but something happened. It was… weird.”
“Weird how?” Bradan asked.
He was still holding one of her hands and drew her back to her chair before sitting across from her in the chair Aedan had vacated. Aedan stood a step to the side, a slight discomfort slithering over him that neither seemed to recall he was even there.
“I was doing this new trick I thought of,” Dame Vivien said. “Like a lie detector, except with the Quickening doing all the work. I got a bit lightheaded when I was doing it on Doril earlier, but when
I did it on Aedan, it was just so hard to keep it up. And then I tried to stop channeling, and I couldn’t. It was like…” Her eyes flicked toward Aedan. “Like the Quickening was holding me, instead of me holding the Quickening. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“Yes, it does,” Aedan replied before Bradan could say a word. “It happens sometimes when a channeler overextends their channeling. The more you practice, the more Quickening you’ll be able to handle, but there’s always a limit. A point beyond which you can’t step. And if you try, you lose your control over the Quickening. It flows through you, undirected, until you either manage to release it or you exhaust yourself and pass out.”
Bradan glanced at him, and a flare of irritation surged through the bond. Aedan returned that look flatly; he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. What was up with Bradan?
“You never said that could happen,” Dame Vivien told Bradan, and while there was no reproach in her voice that Aedan could hear, a tiny frown furrowed her brow. “Is it dangerous? Can it hurt me?”
“Not hurt,” Bradan assured her. “It could exhaust you to the point that you can’t channel for a few days, but that’s all. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t get to it. There’s so much I needed to teach you; I had to start somewhere. What was it you said about a lie detector?”
As so often happened when the three of them were in the same room, Dame Vivien’s attention focused entirely on Bradan as she answered. Aedan was used to it, and he didn’t mind all that much—or at least, he told himself he didn’t mind. It allowed him to keep a close eye on Bradan and be particularly attentive to what filtered through the bond.
Bradan’s love was first and foremost when he cautioned their dame about that truth-and-lie trick of hers, but as they talked of the necessity of it, something else grew, becoming louder, harder to ignore: hunger.
Aedan didn’t say anything, but he stepped closer to Bradan’s chair, ready to intervene if needed. Of all the threats he’d ever imagined he’d protect their dame from, his brother had never been one of them.