So much perplexed me about the Hive. These weren’t the blood-drenched dungeons of my imagination. Feral demons didn’t wander the halls. The Hive was well-kept. Even those in service, like Alba, seemed in good health and spirits.
“His Majesty is hosting a ball to welcome me here and I’m to memorize as much information as possible beforehand.” I returned my attention to the current page featuring one of the original sisters, Ruelle Eldritch. Her hypnotizing, regal posture, large eyes, and full lips intrigued me. Men have claimed seduction by females far less fair than her. And she was the warrior queen—a woman all other legends were born from. Something foreign within me envied her reputation.
“A ball! How exciting,” Alba chirped before disappearing into my bedchamber. It was exciting, and nausea-inducing.
I turned the page over and came face to face with the regent of the Northern Hive, Eryx Morvain. I read his title again: Northern Hive. There were other Hives.
I rubbed my temples as the onslaught of information engulfed my mind.
Multiple Hives. Multiple regents. Multiple courts. At least one more community, if it was the only other one.
Growing up, we’d only ever heard rumors abouttheHive. Not Hives. My questions gave birth to more questions, and I wished I had a quill to write them all down for Oddo’s next lesson.
In the meantime, the sinister eyes of the Northern Hive regent leapt off the page. While many faces had blended together, his burrowed into my mind. It was terrifying and handsome. Maybe that was a requirement for being appointed regent of a Hive. Although Rhazien wasn’t as terrifying in person as his reputation led me to believe. I shook my head and reminded myself I didn’t know him well enough to make a final judgement.
His portrait glared at me from its page, continually pulling me from the extensive details of the glowering vampire. I wondered if that was actually his face or if the artist had taken certain liberties with the portrait. Either way, I decided I’d learned enough about Eryx for one day and turned the page to someone less intimidating.
I sighed.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Lady Reyva?” Alba offered.
“Vampire history is just too vast. There’s too much to know.” I nibbled at my thumbnail, a terrible habit my mother always hated. As if her ghost had walked in, catching me in the act, I dropped my hand. “Could you—would you mind?—”
Alba’s gray robes floated across the space with an easy elegance. More and more with her mannerisms and movements, Alba revealed her story to me.
“Whatever you need.” Her kind, fawny eyes sent a wave of calm over me.
Had we met before? Perhaps at court? Is Alba her real name? Did she recognize me?
I shook away the inquisitive spiral and simply smiled as I patted the open space next to me on the loveseat. “Please test me. I need to see if I’m actually retaining what I’m reading.”
“Oh my, this text is…extensive,” she said as she thumbed through the pages.
I narrowed my eyes, assessing her reaction. “Are you familiar with vampire history?”
She bobbed her head. “I’ve picked up bits here and there from overheard conversations and have pieced some of it together, but I’ve never studied it.”
As a lady of a house, I knew life could be far more comfortable when you built a relationship with your staff, and the way her eyes devoured every detail on the open page was intriguing. I couldn’t help but ask, “How long have you been of service to the Hive?”
Her brown eyes raised to mine but darted to the fabric of the sofa again, calculating. “Um, well, seven years this Solstice.”
I fought my jaw from falling but couldn’t stop my eyes from widening at her response.Seven years. A blink in time for a vampire. She seemed so young.
“Seven years.” I rubbed my chin then let my fingertips fall down my neck, stopping at my collar as I asked, “How did you end up here? I’m sorry, that’s probably not an appropriate question.”
“No, it’s fine,” she assured. “It’s not a pleasant story, but it’s one I’m at peace with.”
I adjusted myself, tucking my feet beneath me and leaning in, ready for any detail she would give me.
“My father was a gambler. One day, an Illica messenger sent word to Bromport that the Crown was offering a small hoard of coin for any volunteers to go to the Hive. My father practically salivated at the sum. Between my older brother and myself, I was the easier child to give away. So, here we are.”
She spoke so evenly, like she’d become numb to the devastation of being given away. My chest tightened with my heavy heart.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
She blinked away a flash of sadness and said, “Thank you, but it’s okay. It’s a better life here, honestly. Comfortable living quarters, consistent meals, a reasonable amount of freedom outside of service.”
My gut told me she was sincere, but my mind didn’t want to accept it. I’d been conditioned to believe everything about the Hive was horrible and that relinquishing yourself to it was some great sacrifice for the mortals of Atoris. But here was Alba, existing more comfortably under Rhazien’s court than she ever would under the Crown.
