“Your social calendar is going to be more full than mine,” Rhazien murmured into my braids between guests. His breath on my ear sent a wild shiver skittering down my spine.
I tipped my chin up and met his gaze. “I’ll let Gorvin know to keep a space reserved for you in my diary.”
He scoffed and winked down at me. “Oh, you’re too kind.”
Gorvin was never out of earshot. Rhazien summoned him to bringwine once already or to interrupt and relieve us from a long-winded guest. He approached us as the final attendee from the reception line bowed and excused themselves. Rhazien shared a private order with him to which Gorvin nodded in response and hurried away.
The weight of the evening was wearing on me. The noise. The attention. The information.
“How are you faring?” Rhazien whispered like I was his lieutenant and we were discussing war plans.
I stood tall and still, trying to impersonate every royal I’ve ever gawked at and stripped down based on their physical demeanor. I admitted through a strained smile, “I feel a bit out of place.”
Observing the room from this heightened position gave me clues as to who was an immortal and who, clearly, was not. If their fangs weren’t present, one way to tell them apart was how they stood. Did they shift their weight often or fidget? Vampires—who were so comfortable in their bodies, and stronger than their human counterparts—could stand perfectly still for long periods of time.
“Trust me.” He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss onto my knuckles. “You’re fitting in more than you realize.”
Heat rose in my cheeks and I tried to ignore a group of nearby vampires huddled together, whispering while they watched their regent dote on me.
“Thank you. Even if you don’t mean it, thank you.”
Rhazien turned fully toward me, taking both of my hands in his. “I do mean it. I want you to feel at home here. I want you to know us, know we’re not the monsters you’ve probably been warned about your entire life.”
My eyes landed on the fountain spouting red liquid and guests helping themselves to what was clearly blood into their ornamental, glass chalices. Not everything had been a lie, but there certainly wasn’t as much public death and human defilement as I’d originally expected.
He leaned down and whispered onto the shell of my ear, “Can I tell you a secret?”
My breath hitched. “Yes.”
He had to stop doing that. I was already working so hard to remain poised, but with each small, assuring touch, he was pulling at the loose thread of my composure.
An abrupt interruption of the music was replaced with commotion from the opposite corner of the glittering ballroom.
“Ughhh,” he groaned, “I apologize. We have to deal with a bit of messy business before the party can resume.”
“Oh?” A dense mixture of fear and intrigue swirled in my gut. What qualifies as ‘messy business’ to a vampire regent?
“Mmm. I don’t relish what’s about to happen, but I do hope it shows you how serious I am about protecting you.”
The crowd parted and Dommik Thorne, looking criminally handsome, strode through them. His black suit was sleek and dashing even without ornate beading or sewn symbols. The simplicity amplified his striking features. I stepped closer to Rhazien when I saw the thing being dragged after him.
Behind the confident commander followed two guards carrying a limp body, its head hanging to the ground and toes dragging against the marble floor. I held in a gasp at the sight, squeezing Rhazien’s arm tighter, but no one else showed obvious distress at the scene.
Dommik, now in front of the platform where Rhazien and I stood together, avoided my gaze. There was a flicker of hesitation before he bowed to his regent.
“Your Majesty. My lady.” Dommik addressed, nodding to each of us.
“Commander Thorne,” Rhazien formally greeted his loyal soldier.
“The accused has pleaded guilty to crimes against your crown and awaits your final judgement and punishment.” Dommik pulled the figure’s head upward, revealing partially healed but battered features. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut peered at me. First with recognition, then a fiery hunger.
“Vaspar Riven, you’ve offended both me and my esteemed guest, Lady Reyva Bergmont. Do you have any words before I put forth your sentence?”
I hadn’t forgotten the way his voice hissed when he spoke, and the echoing ballroom accentuated the sound. “Yes. Of course.”
The crowd waited in perfect silence to hear the defense of the ghostly creature.
“My only regret…” he breathed heavily, “…is that I didn’t drink more from you.”
