My mother nods.
‘And the others?’ Anger flares in me, white-hot.
‘Vindhof and Ravenko.’
Shit. The two largest armies under our banner. Vindhof and Ravenko are close, their territories bordering each other. I suppose it makes sense, if any of this can be said to do so. ‘Who else?’
‘Darkwing.’
‘Darkwing? But they’re in North America. They don’t even know me!’ There are two Raven families in North America, each holding their own territories; Karanlik in the north, and Darkwing in the south. I’ve never met any of them. But with Mistral, that’s five noble families. Perilously close to the majority of seven they need for the Challenge to proceed.
My mother shrugs, elegant as always. ‘They don’t need to know you, Emelia. They just know what they’re told.’
‘That I’m human. And we killed Mistral.’
She nods, her perfect red lips pursed.
‘So, even though Mistral started a literal rebellion against vampires, the families feel like having a human ruler is somehowworse?’
My mother looks pained. ‘Not all the families. Only those involved in the Challenge.’
Like that makes it any better. ‘Do you think they’ll get the majority they need?’
‘We don’t know.’
I stare into space, thinking. ‘And if it goes ahead and father loses, does that mean…?’
‘At best, it means Oliver becomes Raven. You and I will be relegated to one of the lesser estates. And your father, of course, will be dead.’ She blinks, looking away.
‘That’s thebestoutcome? What’s the worst?’
My mother’s gaze comes back to me, red lining her onyx eyes. ‘It means civil war. And, with things as they are outside our borders, the fall of the House of Raven.’
Well, that sounds like a fun time.
ChapterSix
THE NORTH WIND
Ihead to the War Room just before midnight, massaging my temples against a threatening headache. The absolute fuckingnerveof Oliver and Jacques! I know not everyone is happy with me being crowned. Darkness knows, I have mixed feelings about it myself. Human children born of vampire parents are rare, not because they aren’t born very often, but because they’re usually not allowed to live. The fact that my mother fought to keep me is unusual, especially in a ruling family. I wonder what she saw in me, what she hoped to accomplish by putting a human on the throne. My father said to me, as we sat on the steps watching a rebellion catch fire, that he and my mother had tried to protect me from cruelty, that they didn’t want anyone to think differently of me. I wish, now, that they’d let me bear it, rather than keeping me hidden away. I already grew up feeling like I wasn’t good enough; what difference would a few more insults have made? At least I might have had the chance to stand up for myself, and show everyone who I am. It feels like I’m coming into this on the back foot, having to prove myself even before my mother anoints me. I can understand why Oliver and Jacques want to challenge me. A human girl, responsible for exposing their father’s treachery, ruling over them? I’m surprised they haven’t tried to kill me already. And now I have to sit in a room with the North Wind, another of Mistral’s stupid dangerous schemes, and pretend like I don’t know my father’s life is under threat. Because of me.
Heavy the head that wears the crown. I read that somewhere, once, and it always stayed with me. Now it makes more sense than ever. I’m not even Raven yet but I feel overwhelmed.
Moonlight paints silver shadows on the darkened carpet, the long hallway walls. Bertrand pads along behind me. The War Room is close to the Costume Room, filled with dusty maps and ancient books of strategy, weapons on the wall. A huge central table features a relief map of the world, the four realms mapped in copper and silver, jade and gold, like the one on the wall in the library.
My father waits for us, his hand on the door, a gentle gleam in his eye. There’s an answering glow in my chest, comforting as a warm fire. It seems wildly unfair that we might have just mended the distance between us, only for this to happen. I cannot lose him, not now. I know how strong he is, how talented a warrior. But he’s not infallible.
He opens the door, ushering me inside with a quick glance, brows raised. I hastily school my features into a calm mask. The War Room looks different, tonight. More … alive. Candle lamps glimmer in golden sconces, sparking light from the map on the table. Chairs surround it, carved ebony inlaid with silver, the Raven emblem on the tall backs. Guards are stationed against the walls, including my parents’ personal contingent, flecks of red among the silver on their livery. Bertrand takes his position among them, his massive arms crossed.
Varin is already here, as is Ira. The club-owner bows to me, his hand to his chest, his ice-blue gaze warming. His tattoos are mostly hidden tonight under a tailored black shirt, though there are some visible at the edge of his cuffs and collar, including a flash of red on the inside of his wrist. With him are two humans, a man and a woman, both dressed in tidy yet worn clothing. At my entrance their eyes widen, glancing at each other. The woman’s hands are twisted together, the knuckles white. It’s understandable. Being in a room full of vampires, in the home of Raven itself, must be daunting. I stay close to my father, my shoulders back, my head high, conscious of the part I need to play. I might feel out of my depth, but I can’t let anyone else know.Negotiation is about appearance as much as anything.My father’s lessons float through my mind.It is the same in battle.Arrive as though you’re already the winner. Leave nothing exposed that you do not wish to have exploited.
Mistral started the North Wind rebellion as a distraction to undermine our house, to get rid of my father and me, just so he could be with Mother again. Why he thought a plan like that would work I don’t know. Mother would never have forgiven him. I suppose he was so arrogant he thought he could just breeze back in and save the day, and she would fall into his arms. I wonder whether he really knew her at all.
Yet it did almost work. If Kyle hadn’t been distracted, changing Jessie into a vampire, I would never have been able to expose him to the light and kill him, then escape. The rebellion itself was more successful than Mistral ever thought it would be; I remember him talking to Kyle about it, when they both thought I was unconscious, and his surprise that humans would fight back, and so strongly. Yet another way he underestimated them, and me.
My mother enters the room. Clad in black velvet, severely cut. Her flawless beauty shines in the dimly lit space, like a sharpened blade in the moonlight. Everyone bows, including me. She is Raven incarnate tonight.
‘My lady.’ Ira straightens up from his bow. ‘May I present Jane, and Andrew, of the North Wind.’
