She tilts her head. ‘Like what?’
‘I want my family to be handsomely paid for my devoted loyalty. Titles, land, and coin.’
The queen considers. ‘Your parents are already very wealthy. How many siblings do you have?’
‘Eight—four older brothers and four younger sisters. I am the middle child.’ She would know this if she had ever bothered to ask me anything about my life.
Her eyebrows shoot up. ‘Eight! That is quite a few.’ She hesitates, and I know I have her cornered.
‘Say you will do this for me. Or I will tell everyone that, and I suspect this is the truth, you and Lord Dudley have plotted to have Lady Amy murdered.’
To her credit, the queen does not even bother to protest the accusation. She knows I’ve checkmated her.
‘Yes, yes, the entire Everill family will be handsomely rewarded for your sacrifice,’ she says witheringly, throwing up her hands in defeat. ‘How I shall explain this to my Privy Council, God only knows.’
I grin like a cat who’s been given a bucket of cream and incline my head. ‘I am sure you will think of something, Your Majesty, since you are so clever.’
I barely have time to freshen up in my chamber before I amsummoned to the dining hall for my royal taster duties. It is only when I ingest a mouthful of pigeon pie and sip a cup of wine in front of the court that it becomes clearer what I now have to endure—the disgusting taste of human food and drink! My body hungers only for blood. Resisting the urge to spit the mouthful on the floor, I catch Darius’s eye.I will visit you in the queen’s chamber tonight, after you have changed places with her.He smirks.Swallow your mouthful of human muck, and I promise, you shall enjoy true sustenance.
***
Darius comes to me through the secret door late that eve, when I am settled in the queen’s chamber. He allows me to feed from his wrist. Afterwards, we copulate briefly in the stately purple-tinged room, the fire burning low in the grate. It is an altogether satisfying experience, and Darius is an excellent lover. But after he takes his leave, I lie awake, pondering in the endless hours of night.
A few evenings later, we are lying together, our pale bare legs entangled in the silk sheets, when he says, ‘Have I displeased you in some way?’
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘You have barely spoken tonight, apart from a groan when you tasted my blood and a moan when you climaxed.It does not make for a veryfulfillingencounter.’
I sigh inwardly. I do not want Darius to be grumpy with me, for then he may not come at all. ‘Forgive me if I seem melancholy. I have a lot on my mind.’
‘Would you like a friendly ear?’
‘Ah, yes ... If you are of a mind to listen.’
Darius places his hands behind his head, settling back into the pillow. ‘Then tell me your woes, sweet lady. And do not leave anything out, or I will know.’ He taps his temple, and I smile thinly. Him reading my thoughts whenever he chooses is one of a long list of complaints I have about being a vampire. But I will begin with the most important: the worry that is plaguing my mind.
‘My monthly courses have not arrived. Please tell me I can still bear children?’
Darius is silent for a moment, then states matter-of-factly, ‘No. I am sorry, but bearing children is not something a female vampire can do.’
A deep sadness overwhelms me at hearing his words. Yet no tears fall because crying is also denied to me.
I clench my fists. ‘W-what about falling in love and getting married? Can a vampire do that?’
Darius huffs a laugh. ‘Are you proposing?’
I shift my toes away from his. For although Ilikehim well enough, I do not feelthatway about him. ‘No, I amnot. I am just ... curious.’
‘There is nothing to prevent a vampire from loving someone, another vampireora mortal. But vampire marriages are rare, and vampire-human marriages even rarer.’
‘Oh.’ I contemplate this. ‘But not impossible?’
Darius rolls over to face me. ‘No, not impossible. Especially because you have time on your side.’
He smirks and rubs his large member against my upper thigh, the evidence of our coitus leaving a sticky smear. ‘If you have not found a mate in the next two hundred years, I will seek you out and propose myself. For as much as I like my freedom, I may want to settle down then. And I do rather enjoy your company.’
My mind reels. Not at being married to Darius, as I know he is jesting. No, it is at the sheer amount of time he is talking about. Two hundred years! Reality sinks in. If no one burns me at the stake or cuts off my head, then I am facing an excruciatingly long existence, and two hundred years will be the start of it. If I cannot find true love, I will be doomed to walk the earth for eternity—alone! Oh, how shall I bear it?
