Dammit, I can’t be dealing with a woman like that.I’m here to have fun.Not babysit a ball ache.
I dig in.“Good, because I’m not inclined to guard a spoilt brat of a princess anyway.”
Octavia, Xavier, Stirling and Gabriel all suck in a breath.
Penelope staggers a few steps away like I slapped her.Her brows shoot up.Wasn’t expecting that were you, little brat?I’ll bet no one has ever spoken back to her.Put her in her place.This is the problem with spoilt rich kids.No discipline.No order or structure or rules.She’s just a feral fucking princess.
She glowers at me like she wants to yank my fangs out.I stare just as hard, knowing I’d rather enjoy digging those fangs into her cheeks—and not the ones on her face.But I won’t because Octavia owes me for behaving.I swear it’s about time we found the bar, I heard this place is dripping with Sangui Cupa.
The silence is so thick it could drown a bag of kittens.No one moves until Morrigan snorts out loud like a small pig.She bends double and bursts out laughing.“Oh my god, please, Mother.They’re simply perfect for each other.”
I smile, smug, nodding agreement.
Until her words repeat in my mind, and the smile falls rather rapidly off my face.
Wait.What?No.
The nod turns to a virulent shake.
To my utter horror, Queen Calandra cracks a smile, the drying blood flaking off as she tries and fails to suppress a laugh.
“What is happening?”Penelope shrieks.
Morrigan—now crying with laughter—wipes the tears away.“This might just make up for the dinner.Goodnight, Mama.I’m going to get showered.”
With that, she drags Stirling off, and two guards follow after them.
Calandra, hesitant, steps forward and takes my hand.
“I need an oath, if you will.I know it’s unconventional, and as much as she’s a pain in my royal arse, I adore my daughter.Both of my daughters.And, well, youarea vampire.So.If you’ll excuse me, while I can see that you’re physically qualified…”
She tentatively pats my bicep.
Patsit.
Fully flat palmed, like I’m a fucking dog.
What in the ever-loving fuck is happening here?
Calandra steps back.“I do require some level of guarantee.”
I glance from Octavia to the queen, my expression screaming ‘help me’.Gabriel would have read it, but he’s not so subtly using his book to cover his mouth, which, I suspect, is laughing in time with the bounce of his shoulders.Prick.
It’s Xavier that comes to my rescue.
“Your Majesty,” he starts, that familiar silk gliding through his tone.
“Xavier,” Octavia growls.
Xavier clears his throat, takes the compulsion out of his voice and tries again.
“Your Majesty.We are here to begin peace negotiations.What good would it do for us to take on the role of bodyguards only to allow harm to come to your daughter?I fear that may spell the end of any relationship our kinds could have with each other for yet another millennium.”
“Well said,” Octavia says, clapping him on the arm.
Scarlett interjects this time.“I’ve fought beside them all.Well.Maybe not the bookworm.But Octavia, Xavier and Dahlia, in particular, are exceptionally talented in the art of war.I vouch for her.”
I have to fight off succumbing to the compliment because, of course, I am exceptionally talented at war.
