Chapter Six
Viktor
Ihave been staring at the same border report for forty minutes.
The document is routine, a semi-annual update on the eastern checkpoint shifts. I have read this same report twice a year, for the last eight years. I could probably recite it from memory. There is nothing in this document that requires forty minutes of my attention, and yet here I sit, in my study, with my coffee cooling at my elbow and the same paragraph stuck in front of my eyes, because I cannot focus on a single word.
All I can think about is Hazel Novak, the sexy human I want as my bride. I want her underneath me, planting my seed inside of her and my fangs in her neck.
And yet I can do none of this and must instead pretend that we only have a friendly, professional relationship for the good of my daughter.
It is very difficult.
A week has passed since that initial family dinner. Every night has been spent at my table, with my daughter at my leftand my daughter’s nanny at my right, separated from me by six inches of mahogany and an ocean of restraint. The great dining room is now alive with laughter and energy. The candelabras have been polished so often they are starting to gleam differently in the firelight.
Madam Petrova is happy with this arrangement and hums to herself in the corridors. The entire household seems to like the new nanny.
And Lily isblooming.My daughter, who two weeks ago barely spoke above a whisper, is now demanding to know what my favorite color is. (I had to think about it. I have not been asked that question in years.) The Princess volunteers opinions about the soup and tells me about the butterflies in the garden. Three nights ago, she made a small, dignified speech about how the Cook’s chocolate cake is the best dessert in all of Krovenia.
The playgroup started on Monday. By Friday my daughter was outside,laughing.I could hear the startling sound float through the open window of my study.
Two days ago, at breakfast, Hazel reached across the table to refill Lily’s water glass.
The inside of her wrist brushed mine when she set the pitcher down.
In that moment, my fangs lengthened and I had to grip the arm of my chair through the rest of the meal like a male steering a small boat through a storm. Thankfully neither Lily nor Hazel seemed to notice, but I’m ninety-nine percent certain that Madam Petrovanoticed.
A week ago, I told myself I had this under control. I’ve told myself the rules I would obey.She is your employee. She has a contract. Lily has bonded with Hazel and you cannot jeopardize this relationship.I have repeated these rules every night before dinner and every morning before breakfast.
But the Blood Calling has not lessened. It hasworsened.
There isa knock on my door.
My secretary, Cardok, enters with a sealed letter in his hands. He places it on my desk. The wax seal is the Council’s, the pressed crest of three crossed swords stares up at me from the cream-colored paper.
I open it and let out a sigh of annoyance. I have told them multiple times that I will not be doing this again and yet they keep trying to arrange my life for me, as if I were a trained animal.
The Council is calling me to a closed session three weeks from today. The subject of the session:the matter of the Crown Prince’s continued unmated status and its implications for the succession of House Draven.Attached is a list of three Krovenian noble females from old bloodlines, all vetted personally by Elder Petra herself. All from houses with long histories of intermarriage with House Draven. I know all of these females. None of them have any interest in me. They consider me dark, quiet and broken. Any of them would be horrified to learn that they were being forced into an arranged marriage with me.
I set the letter down on my desk and stare at it for a long moment. I think of Hazel, the lone female who seems to see beyond my off-putting exterior. She talks to me daily, bringing out conversation from not only my daughter, but fromme. I envision her at my table last night, laughing at something Lily said. Her hand sliding the silver hair clip into Lily’s curls this morning after breakfast. The look of caring and love in Hazel’s eyes as she gazes at my daughter. I suspect my female cares for Lily more than she realizes.
I pick up the offending letter and lock it away in my desk drawer.
My tablet chimes.
It is the King.
I tap on the screen and my older brother’s familiar face fills the screen, he is in his own study at the royal castle, his sleeves rolled up the same as mine. He is the very picture of a busy king in the middle of a working morning. There is a small smudge of something on his collar that I suspect is baby formula. He has clearly been holding Alexei recently.
We speak of the small things first, confirming that Claire and Alexei are well and the kingdom is more or less stable. I learn that Sebastian has gotten into another argument with the captain of the southern forces, which is fine, because Sebastian gets into an argument with the captain of the southern forces roughly every quarter. Maxim is still refusing to attend formal functions unless forced to. The usual.
Then my brother’s expression shifts. He sets something down on his side of the screen and folds his hands. “Madam Petrova called my housekeeper, who called Claire’s lady’s maid, who told Claire that apparently you are having dinner with your daughter now.”
“Yes,” I agree. “For the last week Lily has been having not only breakfast but dinner with me as well in the great dining room. This is helping Lily greatly. She is now talking much more and seems happier.”
“Good. And I’m now guessing the reason you haven’t told me this is because you are also having breakfast and dinner with your new human nanny.”
I look at my brother on the screen. This is a male who survived this same impossible situation. He took a human into his bed and made the entire Krovenian kingdom bend its knee to her.
