“The Mages?” Lord Damien nodded, and Thalia chewed on her lip. “You were formed from those pockets of magic by the Mages to be personal soldiers—until they realized you couldn’t be controlled and instead began to kill those around you for sport.”
Lord Damien’s eyes flashed, and Thalia slipped her hand into the slit of her dress, feeling the iron stake Reina had given her next to her knife. “Control is an interesting thing. Your story may allude to usbeing controlled, yet for the Vampyrs, we were no better than their slaves. They cursed us to fear the sun, then created iron so they might protect themselves against their own creations.”
“What happened after?”
Lord Damien didn’t even blink as he said, “There was a great war between the Vampyrs and the Mages. Humans seem to have forgotten about it, for it was before even you were called out of the magic.” Thalia refused to dwell onthatinformation. “Eventually, peace was forged. The Houses rose to ensure protection for Vaccarium and protection for the Vampyrs against the Mages.”
“Where are the Mages now?”
Lord Damien flashed a guarded look. “The Mages are of no concern to you.” His robe billowed as they moved deeper into the castle.
“What about the prince?” Thalia said when they stopped before closed oak doors.
Lord Damien slid his ruby eyes to her. “What of him?”
“What is my new husband like?”
“You didn’t seem inclined to find out much about him once your mother sealed your fate.”
Thalia picked at the nails around her thumbs. “I was … resigning myself to that fact. But political alliances are as old as this world. I have accepted the fact that this treaty is something that will helpbothour peoples.”
“Indeed.” Lord Damien paused. “The prince is often away from court.”
Interesting. Her mother never left court. What sort of troubles could plague the Vampyr world that would cause even their prince to disappear?
Thalia kept picking at her nails, the skin pulling, pulling, pulling—
She hissed as she picked too deep, a ruby droplet welling.
Thalia froze, slowly lifting her gaze to Lord Damien, his attention straight on the blood on her finger.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He glanced at her, his face carefully blank—unresponsive. She waited for him to transform, to lunge at her, but he did nothing. “If you think a small droplet of blood is enough to tempt me into rippingout your throat, then you know very little about the self-control we have to master.”
Thalia swallowed as the Vampyr inclined his head. “Your bedchambers. You shall remain here until someone summons you in the morning. The courts are eager to meet their new princess.”
Thalia glanced at the closed doors, then back at the Vampyr. “Are there to be guards?” None had been lining the halls, something that immediately put her on edge. In Agripa she couldn’t go two feet without a patrol walking by, ensuring all was well.
Lord Damien cocked his head. “You shall have Cassius.”
Thalia stiffened as Cassius seemed to step out of the shadows, his face hard.
Where he’d appeared from, she had no idea, but his preternatural silence was unnerving.
“He’s fulfilled his duty, hasn’t he? I am here, am I not? Delivered unscathed? Surely I don’t need a proxy anymore.”
“Until you’re presented before His Highness and a true ceremony takes place, you’re still bound as law. Cassius will remain with you and ensure no harm befalls you in the meantime.”
“What sort of harm?”
Lord Damien didn’t answer. “Rest well, Princess.”
Then he seemed to glide down the hall, not glancing back.
Thalia looked to the closed doors again, then to Cassius, who stood in the dark hallway, arms crossed over his chest. “Well?” he said, nodding to the door.
Thalia gritted her teeth, the dagger and stake strapped to her thigh her only comfort. But the sooner she went to bed, the sooner she could wake up and meet the prince, which meant the sooner she could be unbound to the traitor constantly at her back.
