“Did I get angry? I don’t recall that.” At her vexed eye-roll, I smile. “Had you come last night, love, we could have been mating for an entireevening, rather than a few hours. Wouldn’t that have been nice after so long apart?”
I take great pleasure in the way her cheeks flush pink. She lowers her gaze to the water, trying to hide a smile. “Incorrigible, Lord Ashfen.”
“That’s why they call me the Incorrigible Prince,” I declare My fists land on my hips to strike a pose.
“No one calls you that, Master,” Garroway mutters, stealing the moment.
I scowl at him, and Sephania chuckles and splashes water at him in my defense. It isn’t long until the water is making waves in the tub as they slap more at each other. Since they’re naked, slippery, and wet, I have a feeling the younglings are five seconds from resuming our torrid affair in the study room.
So I put a hand out. “Enough gallivanting, little loves. Get dressed and meet me in the ballroom to greet our guests.”
Seph looks over. Her hand stays comically in midair, ready to fling more water at the cub. “What is the reason for calling your court, Skar?”
I lean forward conspiratorially, my voice lowering to a devious whisper. “I have an important bit of information to tell them, which I will share with you if you’re a good girl . . .”
With our plan in hand, I wait for my arrivals in the ballroom, taking my seat atop the dais on the highest of the three levels. Isit at my blackened chair, which looks more like a high-backed throne. It’s ostentatious, surely, yet it does the trick of filling my court with admiration for my wealth and status, and dread for my authority.
Garroway and Sephania arrive first, dressed elegantly in a tight black tunic for the boy and a pretty green gown for my beloved. I can’t stop staring at her curves, the way the snug number hugs her hips and sits precariously close to the edge of her perfect shoulders.
“Ravishing,” I breathe as they approach the dais.
Sephania hugs herself, frowning. “I look ridiculous.”
“Nonsense. You look like a queen.”
Sephania takes her place next to me on her chair, and I rest a hand on her knee. Garroway takes residence at the base of the dais, as my enforcer. Tonight, he is not my manservant or thrall but rather my tight-lipped, handsome guardian. It makes for good theater.
Within the hour, the carriages begin to arrive. My white-robes lead the well-dressed flock of vampires and vampiresses into the wide ballroom, saying nothing as my court arrives. They never say anything, and I wonder if it would’ve been prudent to have Vallan here as my herald, or put Garroway in charge of it.
Alas, it’s too late. By the time the idea has come and gone, all sixteen guests have arrived. It’s about a third of my court—all I could muster in a single evening. The information I share will spread to the other members in short order.
Around half the guests are noblebloods, such as Demilord Tymon Aldion and his tall, gangly noblewife, Aelin. The couple sits at the center table, out from the dais, giving me pleasant nods of acknowledgment as they make their way in. A bottle of Lusher is quickly presented to them by a servant.
Tymon makes a sound of contented surprise. “Ah, my Lord Ashfen, you outdo yourself, sir.” The stout vampire raises thebottle and unstoppers it, pouring a glass for himself. A separate servant brings Noblewife Aelin—his broodstock partner and a girl Sephania used to be acquainted with in Nuhav—a glass of red wine.
I notice Sephania at my side watching the long-haired and long-limbed partner of the demilord with suspicion on her brow.
I lean over, whispering, “Don’t look so remiss to see her, love. Remember you are the powerful one here. She is beneath you and not worthy of your disdain. Showing indifference is key at court.”
She nods slowly and smooths the crease in her brow, sitting back and scanning the rest of the room. I smile, enjoying teaching her the finer points of court etiquette.
There’s another woman here Sephania knows from her time in Lukain’s Firehold: the plump vampiress named Helget, who had the pleasure of ending Peltos’ life at my previous shadowgala, over some prior feud I’m unfamiliar with.
Helget makes her way into the room with her two handsome mates at her side, arms looped in hers. She’s a curious one, this Helget. It isn’t often women are chosen as broodstock and thenturned. She must be supremely ambitious and cunning—or unrivaled in bed—to convince her mates to keep her for eternity.
Other guests make their way into the room, each of them happy to find a bottle of Lusher at their table. Low murmurs of conversation sweep across the room and the party begins.
Besides being a sweet vintage, Lusher has an added effect of calming the drinker. It works well for what I have in mind. I allow time for my subjects to get drunk, talkative, and mollified by the blood.
Out the corner of my eye, I notice a vampire I’m particularly glad to see—a late arrival. Glintov is notable not for any successes or great strengths, but because of his slippery tongue.He was friends with Baringsten, the four-fingered friend of Lukain Mortis and perennial traitor to my court.
I rise from my seat thirty minutes into the ribaldry. Eyes lift to meet me, the conversations dying.
“My friends, I am pleased to welcome you to Manor Marquin once more. You all remember Lady Sephania Lock.” Sweeping to my left, I watch intently to catch the expression of every man and woman in the room. One ill-advised sneer or distasteful glower at my queen will mean their end.
To their credit, everyone nods respectfully at Sephania. A couple of the fools even smile.No thoughts of “Hellwhore” or “Bitch-Queen” now, is there? At least not in the open.
My narrowed eyes brighten with a smile. “I have called on you tonight, my inner circle, to welcome Lady Lock back to court after her agonizing time away.”
