“She’s good at causing a ruckus,” Vyvyan states. She reaches for Vane. “Now, help me to bed. I am tired.”
As Vane helps Vyvyan to bed, suspicion gnaws at me. With Vyvyan gone, Vane stands to gain the vampire kingdom, yet he’s never shown an interest in the throne. Then again, he never told me much about his aspirations or past. Could his devotion to Vyvyan have all be an act, just like it was with me?
The sizzlingof eggs and the aroma of breakfast fill the palace’s poorly lit kitchen, though the comforting scents do nothing to quell my troubled thoughts. With the spatula poised in my hand, I replay last night’s Council meeting, grappling with the unsettling absence of Janus. Gianna slumps at the bar, her head cradled in her hands, topaz eyes glued to me, radiating concern and curiosity.
Exhaustion crushes me as I replay Janus’s last-minute cancelation—which happened just moments before everything plunged into darkness. It was too perfect, too convenient. As president, she controls every shred of classified information, and the thought of her feeding it to our enemies, particularly Stellan, tightens my throat. Could Janus betray me after what transpired against us? I never intended to poison her. But the pieces align too neatly—she could easily exploit this chaos to turn the people against me while projecting the composed, trustworthy leader they crave. Gods, I loathe how paranoid I sound, but in the treacherous game of politics, coincidences rarely exist.
The palace generator hums in the background, bleakly reminding me that while we have backup power, most of the city remains engulfed in darkness. Due to the blackout, I gave mostof the staff the day off to tend to their families, leaving me alone to tackle breakfast. It’s a task I am woefully unqualified for.
“Are you sure you don’t want some help?” Gianna asks.
I face her, the apron secured around my waist flowing around my legs. “I told you; I am cooking your breakfast.”
“It looks like you’re making enough to feed an army,” Gi remarks while surveying the spread of eggs, toast, sausages, and hash browns.
“I might have invited a few friends,” I admit, prodding the eggs with the spatula. “Does this look done to you?”
My father’s ghost sighs in exasperation.I’ve failed you, he jokes.
One of Gi’s sculpted eyebrows shoots up. “Who did you invite?”
Before I can answer, a voice cuts through the kitchen. “Is something burning?”
I turn to meet Bennett’s puzzled stare, and my eyes widen. “Shit! The toast!”
I rush to the sizable multi-slice toaster. Smoke billows from its slots. I choke on the scent of charred bread. With wooden tongs, I remove a piece as black as graphite.
“I am not eating that,” Gianna says.
“I thought charcoal was good for you?” I tease just as the eggs begin to furiously sizzle on the stove.
Bennett reaches the pan before I do, taking the eggs off the burner before they become inedible. He empties the pan onto a plate, cracking pepper over the eggs, and then turns his focus on the sausages and hash browns. His every movement is flawless with expertise.
I watch him, my mouth nearly agape. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
During our relationship, Bennett never offered to cook for me, but it makes sense, given that we both have staff available.
“My parents loved to cook,” Bennett explains as he plates the hash browns.
I nod, a twinge of guilt aching in my chest. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, my mother refused to let anyone in her kitchen, though she usually burned everything, like you.” Bennett laughs, his eyes distant with memory.
Bennett’s wistful tone tugs at my heartstrings, tempting me to abandon my original plan. I had asked him to breakfast to get him to tell me about his connection to Corvina, but now I hesitate. Are they simply friends, or is there something more between them?
Bennett’s lie about Corvina haunts me, but I need him. He’s my link to Janus—the only Council member who can confirm if she’s feeding information to Stellan. Confronting him now would risk putting us at odds. I can’t afford that with the stakes this high. So, I swallow my questions, lock away my doubts, and focus on what matters: Keeping the Council united and the country stable. The truth about Corvina can wait.
“You need an extra plate,” I say. Bennett pauses, glancing over his shoulder at Gianna, who shrugs. He obliges.
We arrange four plates of food, and by the time I am gathering silverware, our fourth guest arrives. Pallas slinks into the kitchen, bypassing Gianna, and heads straight for the plate with his name on it. He snags it from Bennett, who hesitates, confusion wrinkling his brow.
“Why is he here?” Bennett asks as Pallas takes his first bite. His amethyst-colored hair is windswept, as if he walked or jogged here.
I untie my apron.
“I’ve asked you all here to help me spy on Janus,” I say. Gianna chokes on her eggs.
Bennett gapes at me while Pallas continues to eat.
