by Kallysten
For a long moment, Ciara observed him, her gaze unabashed as she studied him. She didn’t say a word when Aedan recited something about Bloodchildren, Makers, and clans that barely permeated Bradan’s mind. A heavy silence weighed in the room until she addressed him.
“I wish I could say Aedan has told me everything about you,” she drawled, “but I’m afraid he never said a word about having a brother.”
She seemed to be expecting an answer from him, but Bradan had no idea what it might be. He wasn’t going to apologize on Aedan’s behalf. The last time they’d met, Ciara had tried to needle him and complicate his relationship with Aedan; was that what she was doing today, too?
“If you know him,” he answered in a neutral voice, “you know me.”
She burst out laughing at that.
“Oh, you’re funny. And so clueless. Two ways in which you two are definitely not alike.”
Her gaze had turned almost predatory, and Bradan struggled not to shift and show how uncomfortable he was. Was she trying to rile him up? Why wasn’t Aedan saying anything?
After another few seconds, she stood and approached them—approached Bradan; she was still ignoring Aedan.
“I thought I knew Aedan,” she said in a decidedly cooler voice. “But that was before he shamed our clan. Before he broke his oath to the king. Before I knew he lied to me from the moment we first met. And before he made a Bloodchild without my permission.”
Her tone hardened, turning almost bitter as she added, “So, no, I don’t know him.”
Something Bradan couldn’t quite define drifted through the bond, a cross between guilt and resignation.
“I’ve tried to tell you before,” Aedan said, “my oath to—”
“I was talking to Bradan,” Ciara snapped without so much as turning her angry gaze toward Aedan. “I have no interest whatsoever in what you have to say to defend yourself.”
From the corner of his eye, Bradan could see Aedan flinch and bow his head. The same uncomfortable silence as earlier settled on them. This time, Bradan broke it first.
“May I ask a question?”
The bond rang with a sense of alarm. Clearly Aedan thought Bradan would do best to remain silent. But if Aedan couldn’t explain, Bradan had to try.
“Go ahead,” Ciara said with a slight nod.
“He turned me to save me. He had no time to ask for your permission. Would you have given it if there had been time for him to ask?”
Ciara did not bat an eyelash, nor did she hesitate even for a second.
“No.”
Bradan was taken aback. He had expected a different reply—or at least for Ciara to concede the situation had been less than ideal.
“Because he… shamed his clan?” he asked, trying to understand.
Ciara shook her head. “Because you two are brothers. There are rules. Vampires do not turn their blood kin. That’s simply not done.”
It didn’t explain anything.
“Why?”
She sighed. “Like I said, clueless. Or too innocent for your own good. I don’t know which is worse.”
Her jaw clenched, and she turned a hard look toward Aedan.
“Would you care to enlighten him, Bloodchild?” she said in a mocking tone. “Since you are so eager to impart your wisdom to us.”
Aedan shifted where he stood.
“I’m not sure—”
“Tell him why vampires don’t turn their blood kin,” Ciara cut in, and she wasn’t asking anymore; it was an order. “Or this is the day I punish you for shaming our clan.”
“A Maker will usually bed her or his Bloodchild,” Aedan said, the words as bland as though he were reciting a lesson, “as a means to reinforce training about how and when to feed or how to act in regard to humans.”
While Bradan heard every word just fine, they didn’t make sense. Bed? They couldn’t mean…
He grimaced when he realized that, yes, that was exactly what they meant. Ciara chuckled and turned away to go back to the chair she’d occupied earlier.
“Judging from your expression, I’m guessing your Maker hasn’t followed that path?”
“Of course not!” Bradan blurted out. “We’re brothers!”
“My point exactly. Although it didn’t stop Aedan from turning you. I would be well within my rights to kill you, you know. To kill both of you.”
Shock flashed through the bond, so deep that Bradan didn’t even feel fear of his own, only Aedan’s. He turned to him, just as Aedan was taking a step forward and stilling again.
“He didn’t do anything,” Aedan said. “It was all me. None of it was his fault.”
Bradan had never heard his brother sound as scared as he was now. It shook him to his core. Ciara, on the other hand, acted as though she hadn’t even heard him and continued speaking while inspecting her nails.
“That’s what the king suggested I do, but it seems like a terrible waste.”
“Rhuinn knows about—”
Her head snapped up, and she glowered at Aedan.
“I told you to be quiet,” she growled.
When Aedan flinched and took a step back, Bradan could understand why: her words were like thunder, echoing through him all the way down to his bones.
“And he’s still your king,” she went on, “whether you are loyal to him or not. You stand in his palace. You will give him the respect he is owed.”
Aedan lowered his head again and said nothing. Ciara allowed silence to stretch between them once more before she went on.
“Yes, the king knows. I told him. Because I am loyal. I respect the oath I took. And whatever knowledge I possess about his adversaries is not something for me to keep to myself.”
The same fear Bradan had heard in his brother’s voice now came through loud and clear, obliterating everything even though he remained quiet. Not fear for himself, Bradan knew that much. Aedan had come here with full knowledge that he might die, and he’d accepted that fact. No, he was afraid Bradan would die with him and Vivien would lose the two people who cared most about her in the world.
“Will you do as the king demanded?” Bradan asked. “Will you kill us?”
This time, she answered without taking a moment to think about it.
“I respect the oath I took. But nowhere in that oath does it say I must lead my clan according to the king’s instructions. I will kill Aedan, but it won’t be today, and it won’t be because it was demanded of me. As for you… No, I won’t kill you.”
Aedan’s relief was instantaneous. He believed her. And because he did, Bradan did as well.
“But I can’t say,” she added with a sigh, “that I look forward to hearing you’ve killed humans to feed and shamed our clan even more.”
That, too, Aedan believed, and it was all too easy for Bradan to understand why.
He’d thought it might come to this. It wasn’t something he wanted, but it was what he had to do if he wanted to keep Vivien safe. She’d have to understand that. And so would Aedan.
“If I stay here,” he said, speaking quickly so he wouldn’t get the chance to change his mind, “will you please teach me? So that I don’t hurt anyone?”
Before he was even finished, Aedan’s hand closed on his arm and pulled so they faced each other. The fear was back, this time gleaming in his eyes, deeper than ever.
“What are you doing?” he said urgently.
“What I have to,” Bradan murmured. “You know it.”
“Oh, by all the Quickening…” Ciara was on her feet again, and approaching them. “You already did, didn’t you? Who was it you killed?”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“Her?” Ciara repeated, her eyes widening. “Your dame, wasn’t it?”
When Bradan didn’t deny it, she whirled on Aedan, her words scathing.
“Have I taught you so poorly, Bloodchild, that you couldn’t transmit the most basic of our lessons?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Bradan said. “I didn’t listen. I
didn’t want to listen. But I’m ready to now.”
She studied him, the same way she had when they’d first entered, but somehow this time her gaze seemed to slide in more deeply and see everything he was and had ever been, everything he felt, everything he feared. In the end, she gave a small, slight nod.
“Say goodbye to your brother, Aedan. And leave before I change my mind about not killing you today.”
She walked past them to the door and stepped out, talking to the guards outside.
“Don’t do this,” Aedan murmured, his hand tightening on Bradan’s arm.
Bradan shook his head.
“I don’t have a choice. I can’t learn control if I’m next to her. I need some distance. We can’t risk it happening again.”
Aedan’s hand fell away. He understood. More than that, he agreed. Even so, he looked crestfallen.
“And what am I going to tell her?”
“Tell her it’s my choice. Tell her this is for her. Everything I ever did was for her. Tell her I’ll be with her again as soon as it’s safe. And tell her I love her. Take care of her, won’t you?”
His voice broke on the last words.
Aedan drew him into a tight hug and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I failed you.”
“You never failed me. If anything, I failed you. But I won’t do it again, I promise. Take care of yourself, brother.”
“You do the same.”
When they pulled apart, Aedan turned away without another word. The last glimpse Bradan had of him was of Aedan being marched down the corridor by four guards before Ciara reentered the room and closed the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Unexpected Visitor
As much as Vivien tried not to worry about Brad and Aedan going to Rhuinn’s palace, her mind started to circle through their parting words only minutes after they’d left. She felt as though she’d missed something, as though a question that should have been asked had remained unvoiced, but try as she might, she couldn’t put her finger on it. They’d said it would go fine, they had all but promised it, and she couldn’t believe that either of them would have lied to her to stop her from worrying—Brad because he loved her, and Aedan because it would have gone against his duty.
Or would it? Would he lie to her if he believed the lie was protecting her? He’d once literally picked her up and carried her away from danger despite her protests because he thought he knew better—and in hindsight she could admit it to herself if not to him, maybe in that particular instance he’d been right. Would lying be acceptable to him if it fell under the same heading of ‘keeping Vivien out of danger’?
Her distraction did not allow her to channel well, and she could tell that Olric, with whom she was training, was not impressed by her efforts. Was he already regretting having thrown his fortune in with hers? The thought shouldn’t have stung so much. Hadn’t it been a few days ago that Vivien had not even wanted more guards?
The familiar bell echoing through the castle gave her a convenient excuse to stop, though it did puzzle her. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, maybe half an hour since Brad and Aedan had left. Could they be back already? What did it mean that their visit had been so short?
She had her answer soon enough. Savel hurried to the throne room where she’d been sparring, and informed her that Lord Deltrea of the Lo Mirhea family was requesting the honor of a visit.
Surprise came first; she hadn’t had visitors since before her birthday, when Rhuinn had made it clear that he was displeased with those members of the High Families who were visiting her. Curiosity was quick to follow. When she’d met Deltrea, a young man a little younger than she was, he had accompanied his mother, who was the head of their family and spoke as such. He hadn’t said much at all while Vivien received them. What did it mean that he was back now and, it seemed, on his own?
Thinking fast, she asked Savel to drop by the kitchen to talk to Doril, then allow Deltrea to Pass Through and take him to the reception room. She walked out with him to go there herself, Olric on her heels. As she took a seat, she tried to remember what Aedan had taught her about receiving members of the High Families.
She had to get this right. He wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she made a mistake. As it was, he would have probably criticized what she wore and suggested she put on something more dame-like than the simple, unadorned dress she wore and the scarf at her neck, but it wasn’t as though she had time to change.
And she was spending too much time around Aedan if she could predict what he was likely to say…
“Dame Vivien?” Olric said quietly as she was rehearsing her greeting in her mind. He continued when she gave him a questioning look. “I apologize but… What am I supposed to do when you receive someone? I’m sure Aedan or Savel meant to teach me at some point, but they haven’t yet.”
Vivien tried to stifle a flash of annoyance. It wasn’t Olric’s fault that he was new at his job. For that matter, she was new at hers, if it could be called a job, and constantly feeling as though she were barely fooling everyone around her. If only Aedan had been there…
The thought took her aback; more often than not, she wished she could see less of Aedan. She’d never caught herself wishing for his presence before.
Trying to remember what Aedan had done and where he’d stood when she’d received visitors before, she explained it to Olric as quickly as she could, so that by the time Savel knocked and pushed open the wide doors, introducing Deltrea, they were both waiting for him.
She rose, welcomed Deltrea by his full name, and they both sat down. Vivien just had time to notice that his clothes seemed much less elaborate than the first time she’d met him when Doril came in as though on cue, carrying refreshments.
She could do this, Vivien realized as she poured the tea. She’d been doing fine until now, and as long as she watched what she said, there was no reason for her to embarrass herself. In all the time she’d been on Foh’Ran, this was the strongest she’d ever felt that she might belong here and wasn’t merely playing pretend the way Aedan and Brad wanted her to. She couldn’t wait for Brad to come back so that she could tell him.
It was the thought of what he’d say that made her smile as she took a sip of tea and asked Deltrea, “So, tell me, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company?”
A flicker of surprise lit Deltrea’s dark eyes, and Vivien soon understood why.
“How refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t stand for idle talk and goes straight to the matters of importance,” he said with a thin smile.
She interpreted this as meaning he had expected small talk before they got to the reasons of his presence. Ten minutes ago, maybe, Vivien would have reproached herself for her blunder. Right now, though, it didn’t feel so important.
“I would apologize for my directness,” she said, “but I have much on my mind at the moment. My first duel with Rhuinn is in two days, as I am sure you know, and I can’t say I expected visitors before the outcome of that first battle is known, if not much later.”
Deltrea nodded once and set his tea cup down.
“Had I been the head of my family,” he said gravely, “I am sure my advisors would have counseled against visiting you at this time. And while I look forward to the day I’ll take my mother’s place, I intend to enjoy every freedom afforded to me until I do. Including visiting whomever I please whenever I want without worrying about consequences.”
He gave her a charming smile before leaning forward and adding, “Especially when the company is as delightful as at present.”
So, that was his game, Vivien thought. Aedan had warned her before her first official visit that High Families would be interested in marrying her off to one of their heirs in hopes of reaching the throne. Her future was precarious right now, but it seemed that the Lo Mirhea family was still hedging its bets. She smiled back coyly.
Two could play that game.
* * * *
After Aedan Passed Through b
ack into the castle, he remained still for a moment, standing in the middle of the room and feeling disoriented. Bradan’s absence felt like a missing limb.
Aedan had anticipated he might not come back to the castle today—might not survive a meeting with Ciara—and that Bradan might have to return on his own. He’d worried about what would happen then, when he was no longer there to make sure Bradan’s instincts did not endanger their dame. At no moment had it occurred to him that he might be the one coming back on his own.
Of all possibilities, it might be the one that would keep their dame the safest, but the feeling remained, like a gaping wound oozing blood, that something was wrong, terribly wrong. Bradan should have been here, at his side; his brother, his Bloodchild, his fellow guard…
“Aedan?”
He started at the sound of his own name and raised his eyes to see Savel standing by the door. Of course. He was the one who had let him Pass Through. He acknowledged him with a nod of his head and started forward.
“Where’s our dame?” he asked; his words sounded like cracking ice. “I need to speak to her.”
And say what, he didn’t know, but he’d have to find the words.
“She’s in the reception room,” Savel said. “She’s receiving a visitor.”
Aedan’s head snapped up at that and he stopped mid-stride, staring at Savel.
“A visitor? Who?”
“Lord Deltrea of the Lo Mirhea family. He arrived after…”
But Aedan wasn’t listening anymore. He hurried down the corridor and toward the reception room, faltering when his hands sought his knives and found only empty sheaths. Part of him knew his dame had to be safe. Olric had to be with her, for one thing, and for the other, no one would have dared raise a hand to one of the participants committed to a duel.