“Nuances you have clearly failed to cater to, Your Majesty,” snapped the new wife of the shifter king. “You bulldozed her into submission!”
The vampire contingent stirred, and the Athan and guards stationed around the room’s perimeter matched the uneasy shift in temperament, warily looking around and tensing.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from one of the benches directly below me.
“I have words to say on this matter, if it pleases Your Majesty.”
Princess Joanna, Fallon’s older sister and one of those who had gone to save Violet from the vampires when the Varns had found out about her father, had risen from her seat and patiently waited for Ll’iriad’s permission to continue. She looked calm and comfortable, even with such a formidable and volatile audience. He nodded his permission.
“As an ambassador for my kingdom, I spent two weeks in the second dimension, before and after the turning. What I saw pained me, but I refuse to be silenced. The Lady Heroine Violet Lee has been subject to severe emotional and physical abuse from which she is unlikely to recover, at the hands of those who claim to care for her, human and vampire. At the hands of a kingdom and people we now harbor! This,” the young princess said, half turning to her father, “is known to be the truth.”
Michael Lee threw himself to his feet. “You accuse me of abuse against my own daughter!” I had never seen the man up close—the Athan wouldn’t let him near me, and I was surprised that he had even been allowed to attend the council—but I thought his eyes looked black, and they bored into Joanna like he was trying to burn a hole right through her. She stared back, defiant.
“If you want an abuser, look no farther than that scum.” He pointed a finger at Kaspar Varn, who was already being visibly restrained by another vampire of a similar age who was much more tanned than any other fanged dark being present. “My daughter has Stockholm syndrome, from his torture! That’s what’s wrong with her!”
“Of course you’d believe that! You will never accept our relationship!” Kaspar yelled across the room, not bothering to wait for a microphone to be passed down to him.
The Athenean king wisely sprang up to his feet. “There are serious criminal accusations being made, and it is not the purpose of this council—”
“You cannot, in any case, accuse the man tied to a Heroine of being her abuser! It’s ludicrous!” The vamperic king was on his feet, too; the two monarchs briefly glanced at one another, too quickly for me to catch their expressions.
“Of course, the immunity of the prince; an immunity that means he has never been prosecuted for the murder of my son!” I didn’t recognize the man wrapped in red, who had so abruptly joined the debate, but his words told me he could only be one person: Ilta Crimson’s father.
“Your son was the shit below a hunter’s boot!” Kaspar threw back. “He abused his power as a seer and assaulted Violet, I didn’t! And what about others? My sister and Lord Fabian Ariani, they bullied her, or her ex, Joel; everything I did was done with consent—”
“And you should hear the names Violet’s sister calls her!” Kaspar’s younger brother Cain added.
“Violet Lee was kept willfully ignorant of the enormities of her situation! You cannot claim consent from someone who had no idea her sex life was the topic of argument within a political system she had never even heard of. Educate her, inform her, then claim she has some autonomy in all this!” Antae, the great seer and academic, had risen from his seat among the Damned to shout all others down. There was momentary silence, and then noise, deafening noise; a roar that bounced off the ceiling, people shouting and arguing. Shouts of “Order!” were ignored, and the guards moved swiftly into the center of the room and tensed.
I stood up.
Those immediately around me instantly fell silent. And then those next to them hushed. And those next to them . . .
Microphones and cameras pointed at me, waiting.
I waited, too, until all had noticed me.
And then I proceeded to walk out.
Edmund didn’t say a word. He just followed me down the steps, through the aisles, and into the main thoroughfare. The guards nervously parted for us, their movement the only sound apart from our footsteps, which were embarrassingly lonely.
Am I being immature, walking out? Do I look stupid? Is this the right thing? I just can’t tolerate it any longer!
But then a third pair of footsteps echoed in the chamber, and I knew they were Fallon’s, from his heavy, slightly irregular gait. But, to my astonishment, he wasn’t alone for long. Others were joining him, though I didn’t dare look back to check who.
Kaspar Varn drew almost level with me even as Lillian Lee scrambled out of her pew on the very same side as him . . .
More joined: Lisbeth; my childhood friends James Funnell, Codine, and Raine; Eaglen’s daughter, Arabella; Alya and Adalwin Mortheno, and Richard, flanking us . . .
“Autumn?” Edmund tentatively began in my head as we approached the door.
I held my head a little higher. “If they won’t debate like adults, I shan’t sit among them like one.”
The banner bearers startled at the door, so suddenly opened, and jostled to resume their positions as I marched back beneath the coats of arms, doing exactly what I had dreamed of a couple of hours before: leaving. Once I was out in the open entrance hall, I turned, finally giving in to the curiosity.
“Lords of Earth,” I breathed. Around thirty people had followed me out and were standing expectantly.
Aside from those I had seen leaving their pews, three other Varn children were there—Lyla, Cain, and Jag—and the group of vampires I shared a wing with: Fabian, Felix, Charlie, and Declan, and the American, too. Nervously placing herself between them and Edmund was Charity Faunder; next to her, Violet’s sister, almost in tears.
Alfie and Fallon; two of Fallon’s younger siblings and three of his elder: Joanna, united with the man she had just accused; Henry, the other ambassador; and most unbelievable of all, Sie, recluse and heir to the Athenean throne—I have never even said a single word to him in my life!
“The Inter won’t make Violet better,” I said. That’s what I had thought when I stood up, and I had no other words. People followed me out. They followed . . . me!
But I was not going to hang around.
“Make sure they don’t kill each other,” I told Fallon, whose grin faded before I had even turned on my heel.
“What? Where are you going?”
The doors flew open to reveal the waiting press, who must have been following every bit of the action via the cameras. I knew Fallon was pursuing me, from the way they shouted out his name for comment as well as my own.
“I have an idea, for Violet.”
“Do you need me to help?”
I shook my head as I fastened the ribbons of my hat under my chin; Infanta, my beautiful horse, fresh out of quarantine, waiting for me. “Hold the fort for me.”
As I swung my leg over the saddle, Kaspar flitted down the carpet. He ignored Fallon completely and looked up at me. “I never meant to abuse her, if that’s what you think,” he blurted, eyes wide and begging . . . acceptance?
I examined the vampire for only a fraction of a second longer before I tugged on the reins so Infanta turned and galloped away. I had no answer for him, because I didn’t know what I thought.
I had to save Violet from herself before any other.
That evening, the papers called us “the dissenters.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Fallon
Three hours, and Autumn hadn’t returned from Violet’s room. Outside it was dark, but I hadn’t drawn the curtains in Autumn’s living room. Instead, I paced the carpet.
What is she up to? What takes this long?! It was torture compared to her afternoon disappearance, when she had kept her mind constantly open so I knew she was safe . . . at the Athenean University, of all places.
“Autumn!” I demanded in my head, expecting silence. Instead, I was gree
ted with two hard taps on the door.
I turned to Richard, a silent statue in an armchair. His look echoed my thought: That isn’t Autumn’s knock.
“Who is it?” I growled, knowing this wasn’t going to be pleasant company—not at midnight.
There was a pause. “Casper the Ghost. Just let me in.”
My jaw dropped a fraction as my magic gurgled in preparation. Richard was on his feet, scowling.
“What do you want?”
“To talk. I’m not going to kill you, for Christ’s sake, Father would have my soul.”
Even through the door, his accent was grating, like fingernails on a chalkboard scratching out the words “classist, arrogant idiot.”
“Let him in,” I told Richard, ready and waiting to use the same curse Autumn had performed on Felix.
“Chill, chill,” Kaspar snapped as he came through the door, hands raised in the air beside his head. “No, stay outside,” he told his guards as they went to follow him. “I was rather hoping we would be alone,” he finished, looking pointedly at Richard.
I nodded my approval—I could handle a lone vampire, no problem—but knew Richard would be right outside the door, listening to every word.
Kaspar glanced around the room, taking it in, eyes widening a little when he spotted the baby grand piano that had recently been added in the corner near the window. He walked over to it and sat down at the stool, running his fingers across the polished, gleaming keys.
“I assume you haven’t come here simply to entertain yourself,” I prompted when no talk was forthcoming.
“Violet and Autumn kicked me out of the room,” he retorted, beginning to play scales up and down the length of the keyboard. “So I came to apologize,” he said simply, never missing a note.
“Apologize?”
“Yes, you know? To sincerely express regret at an action? You should try it.”
“Apologize for what?” I growled, earnestly wishing I could gag him with a silencing spell.
He very suddenly lifted his hands from the keys and the room fell quiet, apart from the last few notes, which hung as eerie drones in the air. “Autumn told me what Felix said. I didn’t realize he had been such a dick when I attacked you.”
I half raised a shoulder. “Yeah, well . . . it’s done now.”
“Yeah.”
He was studying my reflection in the gleaming wood of the piano. I shoved my hands into my pockets and waited, hoping he would just leave. Sitting there in the light from the moon shining through the window, deathly pale and stock-still, staring at my image . . . it was like a dead man watching me.
“I get angry . . . since Mother died. I get why Autumn is so introverted. You bottle stuff up,” he said slowly.
My arms were as stiff as wood. Is Kaspar Varn talking . . . feelings? “You should try therapy,” I offered, unable to say anything else. “They’ve been great with Autumn.”
He slammed his hands back down on the piano and started playing a beautiful, flowing piece of music that sounded faintly like a waltz. “I just treated her like a human,” he insisted, voice rising with every word and chord. “Like prey! I didn’t abuse her . . . did I?”
His voice was faint at the end, thousands of doubts poured into two words. Inside, I panicked. What am I supposed to do? I’m not a shrink!
“I don’t know enough about your relationship to say,” I eventually choked out, blushing right through to my eyes.
“No, you don’t,” he agreed and the music began rising again. “But nobody thinks about how it could be turning that made her like this. It was too soon; too rushed. She wasn’t ready . . . maybe . . . maybe she isn’t cut out to be a vampire. Maybe she is just too human.”
“I—”
“She feeds off your Autumn. She’s always telling me about Autumn’s heartbeat, how it slows and speeds up when she’s with you, like a broken clock that cannot keep time, she says. Sometimes I think she pretends that heartbeat is hers, that she’s human again.”
My stomach churned. “Turning only works one way,” I said quietly.
He stopped playing again and in a blur he was facing me on the stool. “You think I don’t know that?”
I flinched, a little afraid at his sudden turn, but just as quickly as he had erupted in anger he calmed down again, running a hand down the back of his head.
“I’m leaving, tomorrow evening—”
“You’re leaving court? Leaving Violet?” I spat before I could stop myself. I knew the guy was incompetent but to leave? I felt like gouging out his brain with my fingernails.
“I’m going to hunt,” he corrected. “For a few days on the mainland. I need to clear my head.”
“And you think leaving her will help?” I demanded, walking closer to him for the first time. I rounded the sofas and approached the piano, slowing down in case he lashed out like a wild animal. “And she’s still having those dreams of you, even though she doesn’t sleep, Autumn told me. You think her seeing you hunt will make her want to drink blood?!”
He stood up. “I just need to get out of here! It’s driving me crazy!”
I took a step closer. “Then you’re selfish!”
His mouth opened and closed, and then opened again. He shook his head slowly and then turned away to lean against the piano and rest his head in his hands. “No . . . I—I just don’t know what to do.”
I frowned at the hitch in his voice. “Are you . . . all right?” I tentatively approached and touched his shoulder gently, turning him a little. His eyes were dry but his lips were trembling. He briefly looked at me, gray-eyed, and then threw me off and bolted for the door, briefly stopping in the doorway.
“I thought infatuation would solve it all. I was wrong.”
And then he was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Autumn
Just . . . don’t make a habit of walking out of council meetings. That kind of thing only makes an impact once,” the king of Athenea said quietly, his eyes constantly darting between me and his daughter Emily, who was playing at his feet, and the two mischievous twins who kept trying to pull her hair. “But what you did worked. We’re indebted to you.”
He rose up out of his chair, and the three children paused, watching their father with nothing but adoration on their faces.
I stood up, too. “She drank half a liter of blood this morning. I didn’t expect to see change so quickly, but it is a fate-send.”
“Indeed. And you, my lady, you are shining. It makes my family and me so happy to see you growing stronger every day. We’ve all adopted you into the Athenean chaos, I think.”
“This does feel like home,” I admitted with a slight blush.
“I am glad to hear it. Now, come, we should return to the drawing room.” The three children obediently began packing up their toys, and once they were done, the king led all four of us out of the room, my heart swelling with absolute delight when Emily chose to take my hand, squeezing it like I was her sister.
The drawing room was very full—it always was. It was more of a family room, where the Athenean children played and socialized, did their homework, or spent much-needed time with their busy parents. It was near the front of the palace, tucked behind the entrance hall where all were free to gather to catch glimpses of the king when he emerged. It was rare that he did—all the private rooms were interconnected, and I could remember running from one to another with Fallon, as a child, without ever seeing somebody who did not have blue eyes.
Fallon sat with his aunt and uncle in a corner of the room. When I came in, he looked up and smiled, and even though I was in a pair of jeans and a baggy sweater, I felt like the only girl in the palace beautiful enough to produce that smile. I wanted to run over to him and throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him like a parasite . . .
I’m happy. I don’t know why but I’m happy . . .
But I didn’t go over, and instead went and sat with Violet and Kaspar at a small table in another corner. She was pori
ng over a glossy magazine, but I already knew it wasn’t gossip that had captured her interest. She looked up when I pulled up a chair, and briefly smiled.
“Okay?” I asked, even though I already knew she was from the excitement passing across our connection.
“It’s perfect,” she responded, pulling a piece of paper from the back page. “I spoke to a woman from admissions today. She said with my grades I’d get in easy, and I could start in January! Here.” She passed me the sheet and I skimmed what had been scribbled on it—it was about spiritual counseling.
I beamed. “And you couldn’t have picked a better major than politics. It can do nothing but help us.”
From opposite me, Kaspar scoffed. “Yeah, right,” he muttered. Violet glanced his way, her smile faltering, and I took a deep breath. Don’t ruin it, Kaspar. Don’t you dare ruin it.
“Kaspar being weird?” Fallon asked in my mind.
I nodded subtly, assuming he was watching us.
“He was weird with me last night, too.”
I kept one eye on Violet, gauging her reaction—nothing anybody said to me in my mind was private anymore. “Tell me later,” I responded, reminding him to be more discreet. He still couldn’t take in the full implications of this connection.
“So what did you do? I’ve barely seen you since yesterday. Violet’s got a brochure for the university, but I don’t get what’s changed. She’s a different girl!”
I smirked. “She’s applying to a degree program there.”
“Seriously? Wow! But why does that change anything?”
“Do you remember me telling you about how I could see the vamperic queen? She told me Violet and I were alike, and I thought about what my salvation was: education. I didn’t think anything of it until Antae said about educating her . . .”
Violet shot me a brief smile, obviously listening to every word.
“Being a vampire doesn’t mean relinquishing all of your future plans,” I finished, both aloud and in my head so Fallon would hear. “It gives her a goal to live and to drink for,” I added as an afterthought.
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