It was such a simple question, yet his answer meant so much. He had so much on the line, so I couldn’t understand why he would risk that to help me in any way. Perhaps I was a little jaded from my years in this castle, but it just didn’t make sense why someone would be so kind when they would get nothing in return.
I desperately wanted to understand his motives, and I knew that deep down, the fact that I was allowing myself to become emotional around him was a testament to this newfound trust that was growing between us. I had a range of feelings regarding those in the castle, but I had never felt a sense of platonic friendship and trust. I wasn’t attracted to Tristan, not romantically, but I couldn’t help but want to embrace the familiar way in which he looked out for me. It was the type of kinship I had been missing as the only child of my family—like if I had an older brother.
Tristan was quiet for a moment as he continued to walk towards my private chambers. I was relieved to see that I wasn’t being sent back down to the dungeon despite my comments at the party earlier. As we rounded the staircase leading up to the landing of my bedroom, Tristan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I can’t help but think of my daughter being in your situation and wishing with every part of my being that there would be some decent person here that would try to help her.”
I felt the emotion that choked him up as he admitted that. It was so raw and honest that all of my hesitations around whether I could trust him or not fell away.
He added, “While I would never want to hurt my family by helping you, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing that I didn’t at least try to help you in some small way. And if my wife ever heard of your situation and found out I didn’t try to help, she’d probably bang my face into a wall.”
A smile tugged at my lips, and I found myself wishing I could meet her.
“Thank you,” I whispered, then shifted the conversation back to what I remembered before I drifted into unconsciousness, needing to piece together what happened between then and now.
“The last thing I remember is three vampyre Lords standing before Malakai and me, refusing to drink my blood no matter what Malakai said to them. There was something different about them.” There was a hint of longing in my voice as I spoke of them, and it definitely didn’t go undetected by Tristan.
“I watched the same three Lords,” Tristan admitted. “I’ve never seen them around the castle before, nor out in the lands of the empire. I was worried that they were going to be a threat, but now I think they’re potential allies.”
Allies? For what? I let out a low hiss and spoke in a panicked voice, not wanting anyone to hear his potentially treasonous words. “Please don’t say anything more until we’re in my room.”
He grunted in acknowledgment, and we proceeded to the end of the long hallway where my room lay. After crossing the threshold and being placed on the end of my bed gingerly by him, I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the soft down feather bed and pillows that engulfed me.
Tristan crossed the room to the side table, pouring me a cup of water and bringing it over to me before sitting in the chair next to my bed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his legs. “Kyella, I’ve been wondering why you’re so important to the Emperor, but after observing the Lords that drank your blood tonight…” he trailed off as I winced at the reminder that I had been fed upon by several vampyres.
So messed up. So damn violating.
Pushing on with the conversation, he resumed, “After they drank from you, I noticed a glow to their eyes—like your blood was physically affecting their energy.”
What?
“So you’re saying my blood gave some kind of boost?” I asked incredulously. Like an energy boost? A power boost? I knew blood obviously fed vampyres, but what did it mean that their eyes were glowing?
He ran a hand over his jaw in thought. “I don’t know what it was, to be honest. But I’ve never seen a vampyre react like that to drinking any human’s blood. Furthermore, I’ve noticed twice now that when the Emperor has given you his blood, you’ve had no reaction to it. It’s a bit peculiar.”
I was unsure of what he meant by that, so I asked for clarification. “What type of reaction am I supposed to have?”
“Well, the law says that Thralls are willing and loyal servants, but how much of that is their own doing versus the control the blood of their Lord has over them? It’s well known that when a human consumes even a drop of a vampyre’s blood, said vampyre is able to control their thoughts and actions, even if in a subtle way.”
My eyes widened, feeling like I was so out of depth with my situation despite growing up in this empire. It would make sense, though, that the vampyres wanted to keep this information from humans considering applying for a Thrall position.
“So Malakai should’ve been able to bend me to his will? Is that what you’re telling me?”
I had never once felt even the slightest sway over my mind, emotions, or actions that were not my own. And if Malakai had that power over me, I knew he would’ve used it. Especially with how I had acted recently in my ‘rebellious’ streak—although I preferred to call it ‘my ongoing fight for the freedom that was ripped away from me by this narcissistic, egotistical asshole.’ No, he didn’t have control of my feelings or actions in the traditional Thrall sense, but he had controlled me by making me feel hopeless and violated.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Kyella. There’s something special about your blood, and it makes sense now why he’s guarded you so closely.”
Between this information and his hope for the Lords to become allies, I was on information overload. So when he switched the conversation, I was initially thankful, until I realized where he was going with it.
“Kyella… I don’t know what to say to you except that I’m sorry you had to endure that. No one should ever feel like their voice doesn’t matter, no matter their species or place in the hierarchy. It is unacceptable what he has done to you and this empire, and I’ll do everything within my power to help you figure out a way to get out of here. To help you escape.”
I’d been trying to lock the memories of tonight away, but it seemed that Tristan wasn’t going to let it go that easily.
My voice quivered as I answered, “Please don’t apologize when you have nothing to do with it, and please don’t ever say you’re going to help me escape again.” Because hope in that form was painful. It was different when I was struggling on my own to do so, but the idea of failing in escape and having others suffer as well—or worse, being successful but leaving Tristan and his family to suffer a terrible fate—didn’t sit well with me.
As he opened his mouth to retort, I held a hand up to stop him, not done with my train of thought. “I cannot bear the weight of your family’s lives hanging over my head, even if I did manage to escape. I would never be able to live with myself if I was the reason for your deaths.”
Leaning back, he tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair in thought. “While I appreciate the sentiment, it isn’t your decision to make. And if I’m right about those Lords, I won’t be in this alone. We could have a true chance at pulling this off.”
He said it so lackadaisically, as if so much wasn’t on the line.
