Page 160 of Blood of the Fairest

I go still, keeping my voice low. "Who?"

"Some Aurefeldan knight whose blood tempted her greatly, like yours. Perhaps you met him in the barracks. He outright offered his blood, but she would not feed on him," he adds with a heavy sigh. "Why must she be altruistic to a fault? It's fucking maddening. If she was anything like me, she would be sleeping with a full stomach."

Part of me is relieved Verena didn't feed on another. If she had, what would have stopped him from becoming too greedy with the pleasure her bite brings?

I do not trust the greed of Aurefeldans.

And yet…

She has not fed from me since the start of the journey here. Eris said she drank blood in the Loomdark, but now she has gone another day with nothing.

The thought of my vantaði trying to fall asleep with such an empty stomach is intolerable.

She whimpers once more, curling in on herself in her sleep. Her breathing grows quicker for a moment, as if she runs from whatever monstrous visions plague her nights.

I reach out to cradle Verena's face and once again use the runes emblazoned upon my arms. They heat rapidly upon my skin, a warning that I have not let the spells rest long enough since using them to put the guards to sleep—but finally, she relaxes into a deeper sleep.

"You should have done that when she wasn't able to sleep at the inns," Eris scoffs quietly.

After placing a featherlight kiss on her temple, I release Verena and blow off the steam now rising from my arms. When I was given these runes as payment long ago, the witch who enchanted them cautioned me to use them sparingly.

"She explicitly ordered me to guard Snow White those nights, but I am held hostage by no such order tonight. I can return again tomorrow to do this once more."

Eris pauses. "Don't return tomorrow night."

I look at him again, inquisitive.

"Just trust me," he says earnestly. "I'll take care of her."

I may not trust Aurefeldans, but I suppose I trust Eris. Still, for a moment, I linger in silence beside the bed.

I should leave. Return to the barracks.

Instead, I give in to the temptation and carefully lie down beside Verena. Close enough that I will sense if her sleep grows fitful again, but not close enough to satisfy my constant, selfish longing to hold her close.

"Wake me before dawn," I murmur before I fall asleep guarding my vantaði.

39

Verena

It’s miraculous what one solid night of sleep and a long bubble bath can do for a woman.

I don’t know why most of my nightmares took a hiatus last night, but pep has officially returned to my step. My dark circles are pretty much gone as I admire myself in the vanity mirror of the luxurious guest room they set up for Queen Rhinestone.

Eris is weirdly absent from the mirror. I wonder where he’s been all morning.

I also wonder how Beowulf is doing in the barracks. I’m tempted to ask one of the Isenmerian guards to go see if my sworn protector has turned into a bear and eaten all of Aurefeld’s knights yet—but I also worry that sending someone might tip off the powers that be and get Wulf sent further away from me.

I slept in pretty damn late before I took my time enjoying the hot bath that was brought to my room by some very nice Aurefeld Castle servants, who only seemed mildly terrified to be near Isenmere’s notoriously bitchy queen.

Now, it’s already evening—almost time for me to head toward the grand ballroom for the first night of the festival.

Where I’m going to meet the Cinderella.

Hopefully.

I’ve already dolled myself up. Hair pinned in an elaborate updo, check. A touch of charcoal around my eyes and lightly scented oils smoothed all over my skin, check. Rubies made to look like blood dripping from my necklace and earrings, check.