He flipped a page. “She beat the snot out of it.”
“Could you please be a little less flippant?” Lord Otto sighed.
Nial pointed to the television monitor, and it flipped on. He never let the overlords forget his druid power. I watched as the current news came up, and the handiwork I had put in was on full display a moment later.
“Ginter, his fiancée, and a third unknown woman were found dead at his estate this morning. Preliminary reports from the police and the coroner’s office are pointing to a suicide pact the three made. A note left for Ginter’s brother stated that they could no longer handle living in a polyamorous lifestyle and hiding it constantly from public eyes. The note directs his brother, Paul, to take up the torch of justice and run for the seat in the Senate this coming fall. There is no evidence of foul play and the—”
A flick of Nial’s wrist and the screen shut off.
He closed the magazine and laid it on the table as he stood. “Monitor of Challenge is satisfied that the conditions of this Challenge were met above and beyond satisfaction.”
Nial snatched the magazine back up and walked away.
He was so damn arrogant.
“Candidate Gwynnore, we have heard the Monitor’s words,” Lord Pippin said. “Your remaining Challenge will be sent to you soon.”
I glanced at Cato. He’d said nothing. He only stared at me. I wondered if he had a clue how much I now knew. I nodded at the males and left the chamber.
Nial was standing just outside the door. “You’re not telling on him?”
“I’m in the middle of trying to win the crown. When I am the queen, I will have his balls in bronze. And I will make sure anyone who thinks he can defy the Vampire Laws loses his head over it.”
He whistled. “You are a royal snob.”
“That, you idiotic bastard, is the idea.” I marched away from him, flipping him one of my favorite fingers.
I headed for the kitchen to see if there was anything good on offer. After all the blood I had taken, I would have thought food wouldn’t interest me. But I was wrong. I was going to need a really long nap, too.
I meandered through the castle lost in my own head. As much as I wanted Cato’s balls in bronze, for just so many reasons, I was bound to those same laws. I was bound to uphold those same laws, and as queen, I would have to exemplify them.
Betraying the Laws was punishable by death. Immediate death. No judge, no jury. Vampires didn’t have the patience for that. We could sleep for a century, stalk our prey for weeks, but had zero interest in taking time to hear about why someone broke the law.
Even after centuries, I wasn’t sure I was sold on that.
I was, however, well versed in the law. How could I not be? I’d spent most of my life making sure I had every advantage in the world I lived in—and while the physical was important, so was the academic. The Law.
That throne would bemine. For so many different reasons.
I found a few odds and ends from someone messing around in the kitchen earlier. There were many gourmet cooks in the stronghold. That happened when food was a pleasure, and you had eternity to eat. But these dishes were Overlord Pippin’s signature blazing inferno wings, jalapeno poppers, and, oddly enough, crawfish étoufée. Since I had never been a big fan of scalding my mouth while I ate, I opted for a bowl of the étoufée.
As always, anything Lord Pippin cooked was amazing.
This was only melt in your mouth, not melt your mouth, too.
“Ayre dare, missus. You reckon I kin cook dat dere crawdads with sum mount of delicacy?”
My head snapped up.
Lord Pippin leaned in the doorway, black pants, white shirt unbuttoned, looking very much like he was out to seduce someone.
It had worked once on me.
I laughed. “My lord, you never lived in Louisiana, so I think you missed the mark on the accent.”
“What fun are you?” He shooed me away.
“It’s exceptionally delicious, and I wish I could cook like this.”
