“I thought you didn’t like Viridis? Now you want to be like them?” I asked, still confused.
Selene growled, more a grumble, and laughed in response. “Auster scum,” she said.
“Hey!” I laughed.
“You lost; deal with it,” Selene replied, entwining our fingers. “But in all seriousness, you are correct—I do not like Viridis or their disregard for our customs.”
“And yet you want to disregard custom,” I replied.
“For you, I would sow chaos in the land, break apart the kingdom, invite our enemies across the sea to our shores, andbreak all known customs and traditions. I would do anything, stomach any loss, to keep you.”
“I don’t want you to lose anything for me,” I told her. “What’s the other option? Besides sowing chaos?” I asked, then added, “You really do choose your words poetically.” I laughed.
“I lay the groundwork—making alliances, gathering future favours, bribes, threats, etcetera—so that I can bring the motion to the Royal Conference to allow my ascent to the throne without marriage. Then the real work would begin—to change our most foundational laws of inheritance. Viridis might be an example, but it only works in Viridis because the other Houses do not see them as a threat and because Viridis’ culture allows such lawlessness. They do not hold significant power or influence. We have ensured such for many generations now. I would be queen—but queen in name alone—without the backing of the nobles of the other Houses. No one wants a bastard claiming rank and title.”
“All this because you want a family with me?” I asked, my chest tightening again. Motherhood was… was something I had yet to consider. When other girls were playing house, I was swimming, gardening, or reading about plants.
“You do not?” she questioned quickly in return, and her body became stiff beside me.
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, you wouldn’t need to change inheritance laws and work so hard or risk so much if you had a pureblood heir,” I explained.
“That’s not an answer,” she replied.
“It’s the only answer I can give right now,” I replied truthfully. I didn’t know what I wanted. I wasn’t unhappy with the idea of one day having a family, but it wasn’t anything I had thought about before.
“If we were to have children, I presumed you would birth them,” she said.
“Why me?” I asked and cringed at how panicked I sounded. She laughed in response.
“You are more motherly by nature. Truthfully, I never cared for an heir. I never thought about it as a positive until recently,” she replied.
“Maybe we could just not think about it right now,” I asked, feeling the subject too heavy. I had to think about it. I had to figure out how I felt within myself. Was nobility the kind of life I would want for a child? Sure, they would never want for anything, but they would lose so much. Every noble I had met, with the exception of Dylan, had been completely out of touch with the ordinary person’s way of life. They were selfish and self-centred, and maybe having too much was just wrong—maybe it corrupted you.
“Very well,” she replied tensely.
“I’m not saying never, Selene,” I said, trying to reassure her.
“I know,” she replied softly. “And I will continue to prepare for all possible future scenarios that I can envision, until a time comes when we must choose.”
10. No One Told Me I Snore.
Persephone Flores
Man at Workwas sort of beautiful, I decided while sitting on the stone bench. It had taken me a bit to get over the nudity, but once I had, I could admit that whoever had carved it had done so in great detail. From the statue’s toenails to the wrinkles around its eyes, great care had been taken to carve every detail.
The morning was cold; my breath puffed in white clouds. Selene had presented me with a long, poofy jacket, that went to my ankles. It was warmer than any item of clothing I had ever owned. Yet the cold still seeped through my boots and managed to touch my hands through the woollen mitts I wore.
“The cold isn’t something a southern girl is used to.” I looked up. A woman—middle aged, tall, dark hair pulled back in a neat bun and dull grey eyes, indicating Ardens heritage—smiled at me before sitting down beside me on the bench. “I’m Adamantia Ardens,” she introduced herself with a brilliant smile and held her hand out.
I reached out cautiously and shook her hand in greeting. “I’m—"
“Persephone Flores, I know who you are, dear,” she cut me off, and I withdrew my hand, a sudden nervousness clawing at my chest.
“I’m afraid I don’t know who you are,” I told her. I took notice that the cold didn’t seem to have much effect on her. She wore knee-high leather boots, reminiscent of Selene’s riding boots, and only a fabric coat—not much thicker than my Sanguis blazer had been—and dark jeans.
Vampire—pureblood, most likely. The clawing nervousness doubled at this realisation. She leaned forward towards me andinhaled deeply through her nose, before leaning back, a blissful smile on her face.
“My dear, your heart beats like a mouse, and your scent—well I was warned it was rather pleasant. Have I done something to make you anxious?” she asked, flashing a toothy smile, fangs and all.
