My old wardrobe took up less than a tenth of the space, and I laughed. The dress I quickly stripped out of was going to take up another tenth of the space. I hung it up. It was a gorgeous dress. I would keep it, even though someone had told me along the way that queens never wore the same formal outfit twice.
This queen did if she liked it.
I unstrapped my weapons and pulled on a pair of leggings and a comfortable sweater. Rearranging myself, and the guns and sword, I felt better. I looked in the mirror and laughed. A warrior with a crown stared back. And that’s what I wanted to be, the female staring back at me from the glass.
I wandered once more, this time to the area where the common vampires were celebrating. There was blood, of course, but it wasn’t decadently displayed alive. There were also trays of food of every kind, and it smelled divine.
It smelled like bacon.
Someone in the masses spotted me and held their cup aloft. “To Queen Gwynnore! Live long and rule well!”
The room raised their glasses and repeated, “Queen Gwynnore!”
That sounded amazing to me, the edges of my lips tipping up in an indulgent smile.
“Whatever are you doing down here among the masses?”
I spun, andof course, Nial was standing there. Cocky, confident, arrogant, and self-assured.
“I didn’t like the other party. It was too elitist.”
“Get used to it. They like that party template. Live blood drained for their pleasure.”
“I don’t have to get used to it, Nial.I’m the queen.”
He raised his glass. “That you are.”
Glancing around, I could see the people here were having a genuinely good time. “What are you doing down here. Shouldn’t you be up there kissing asses and making sure they remember you’ve stolen the power of one of their own?”
“Parlor tricks get old. Plus, they’ll all be down in a few minutes. Exciting news and all that.”
I twisted my lips into a grimace. Time to disappear.
I plunged into the crowds, mingling and greeting people. They curtsied and bowed, but no one made a big deal about me being there. It was the way I wanted it. I wanted to be able to go and dance and drink with the people of the stronghold and the enclaves.
“Ladies and gentlemen!”
I looked at the door where the five overlords stood, clearly blood drunk and still wearing their stupid capes. How they could walk around with those things on, who knew. I had ditched mine as soon as we were off the dais. A lady in waiting had snatched it and gone off with it. They were ceremonial and kept safe, so I didn’t worry about it.
The room settled, and Lord Xenon raised what was basically a crunk cup filled with blood to toast me. “Ladies and gentlemen, we celebrate our new queen tonight!”
The cheer went up again—I would never get tired of that—and everyone took a drink.
Letting the room settle again, Lord Xenon raised his hand this time. “As is our ancient tradition, starting tomorrow, we shall begin the trials for our next king!”
Another cheer, still a thrill.
But my good mood crashed when I saw Nial standing there, smirking. I’d been so absorbed in trying to win my own trials, I’d forgotten that the overlords had already basically picked my king. I blamed it on the rush of constant adrenaline. I wasn’t that flaky.
“Tomorrow, Niallan of Arranmore will begin his trials. He is the official King Novitiate.”
There was no time to react, to let the hate and disgust boil up.
The mountain shook, and the wall behind me began to slough off into the people below.
“Move!” I screamed at the vampires who were about to be crushed.
Instinct kicked in for nearly all of them, and they sped away from the falling rocks. A few of the younger vampires hadn’t yet figured out how to use their powers, and I darted out to catch a few in a strong grip and pull them out of harm’s way. Felicia, Melchoir—whendid they get here?—also did the same. The rescue group was joined by Lord Otto and Lord Pippin.
