The throne room doors creaked open, the sound eerily like the closing of a coffin.
Reina reentered, her steps clipped, and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
Thalia’s eyes trailed past her to the guards filing in, along with five cloaked figures.
“Welcome,” Kamith’s voice boomed out. “On behalf of Her Majesty, Queen Helena Cesiaran of Agripa, we thank you for joining us this evening.”
Thalia glanced at her mother, but she appeared stoic, unchanging, her face shifting to an unreadable mask once more.
The figure in the middle stepped forward, their hood concealing their features. “And on behalf of House Lorenzia, we want to thank you for such a … warm welcome.” Their voice was so cold it sent a shiver down Thalia’s spine. “Although we had hoped negotiations would have been concluded by now.”
“I apologize on behalf of my daughter.” The queen’s voice nearly shook Thalia from her stupor. “She is here, as you can see.”
“How excellent,” the figure said, pulling back his hood.
A gasp went out, and one of the courtiers fainted, their companion catching them in a swirl of purple silk.
Thalia’s stomach bottomed out.
Pale skin gleamed like cut glass, and red eyes met hers. Slicked-back blond hair was pulled away from the smooth planes of the Vampyr’s face, accentuating his deadly beauty.
“Perhaps we can speed up our negotiations, then.” Glimpses of sharp fangs showed behind bloodless lips.
Thalia’s knees locked as her mother tilted her head. “Of course. We wouldn’t wish to delay you further.”
Thalia’s breath seized in her lungs as soldiers stepped forward, carrying six chairs. This couldn’t be happening. There were … there were Vampyrs in her home. There hadn’t been any Vampyrs since that night over thirteen years ago. When she’d watched them rip off the head of her sister—when they’d punched a hole in her father’s chest so hard his spine had splattered to the ground—
Thalia jerked, only to have a gloved hand encircle her elbow.
Reina was at her side, her features hard. “Princess.” Thalia hadn’t realized a chair had been placed near her mother’s throne. “Sit.”
Thalia couldn’t.
She didn’t think she could even take a breath. The remaining four figures revealed themselves, ethereal beauty exposed like the bright side of the moon. From pale ivory to deep ebony to bronzed, the faces of the Vampyrs appeared before her eyes, though Thalia couldn’t quite understand what she was witnessing.
Reina helped her into her chair, her body going numb long before her mind did.
“We want to thank you again for your generous offer, Lord Damien,” Kamith spoke, ever the diplomat.
The middle Vampyr, the pale one who appeared to be Lord Damien, tilted his head. The movement was much too predatory. “And of your own.”
Thalia didn’t know whether she wanted to scream or puke all over the marble staircase. Or better yet, fly across the floor and plunge stakes through all their monstrous skulls.
“The ore you’ve provided will be enough to last us a decade,” Kamith continued, undeterred at the creatures before him.
A murmur broke out through the crowd.
Why was no one reacting? Why was no one screaming and wailing? These monsters had infiltrated their home, had tried to make a deal before—
“We have already broken the dams. The rivers are headed through to your forest as we speak,” the queen stated. None of the Vampyrs reacted, but Thalia jerked.
“What?” Her question was too loud. It echoed around the quiet room, hitting her back in the face. Agripa had blocked off the rivers that fed the Vampyrs’ sacred forest after the tentative peace between them ended over a decade ago. The dark woods allowed them to hunt during the day, and Thalia had been glad to know that the monsters’ sacred forest would strangle and rot just like her heart had.
But now the river was going back to feeding them?
Her mother cast her a warning look.
“Then it seems negotiations have already been sped along,” Lord Damien said, his red eyes flashing.
