He nods grimly. “Where we kill Hitler. Yes. It is a very accurate account. The human authors actually got most of it right.”
I stare at him for a moment. The Crown Prince of Krovenia is reading a history book about his ancestors murdering a human dictator because it relaxes him. Hmm.
I reach into the basket Madam Petrova left at the side of my chair. She has, I see now, also stocked it. Bless that woman. There are two books in the basket. A small bag of Krovenian shortbread cookies wrapped in cloth. A spare cardigan in case I get cold. A pair of warm wool socks. I pull out the book I have been reading lately, a military romantic suspense paperback. Hot alpha Navy Seal saves brave heroine from a crazy stalker. Great story. I have been on a romantic suspense kick for the last six months and I am not ashamed of it.
I open it to my bookmark.
Viktor glances over. “What are you reading?”
I turn the book toward him so he can see the man chest cover.
He studies it for a moment, then his eyebrow rises. He shakes his head with a rueful smile and returns to his Hitler-killing chapter.
I return to my Navy Seal.
Lily breathes softly between us.
Eventually I stop reading.I’ve been rereading the same paragraph for twenty minutes. My mind has gone somewhere else. I keep remembering our conversation from this morning, before we found out Lily was sick.
I look at the little girl who is still struggling past her fever, and at the handsome Krovenian sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, intently reading his book.
He told me all about the Blood Calling this morning, admitting that he wanted me as more than simply his daughter’s nanny. And then he listed all of the reasons why he has not been actively pursuing me but has been in denial of this Blood Calling. At least now I know I was right, this man wants me as much as I want him. I think, in fact, he was trying to say he basically wanted to marry me?
But now my brain, free of the immediate fire of that conversation and worn smooth by the long hours of sitting still, is turning that last piece over and looking at it from every angle.
I think about Claire.
Everyone in America knows the Claire story. I mean,everyone.It was on every news channel for weeks. The American maid who married the vampire king of Krovenia. The whole thing felt like Princess Grace of Monaco, Queen Noor of Jordan and Meghan Markle all at once, except with fangs. There were profiles of Claire’s hometown. Interviews with her old high school teachers. AVanity Faircover. People I knew who had never opened a magazine in their lives were suddenly experts on Krovenian royal protocol.
And Claire got pregnantimmediately.
The world media tracked it like a national pregnancy. Tabloids speculated within weeks of the wedding. Within months it was confirmed. Baby Prince Alexei William of House Draven was born within the year. The first half-human, half-Krovenian royal child in modern memory.
And he wasadorable.
Every photo of baby Alexei went viral. Round cheeks. Tiny fangs. Pale silver eyes when he smiled. The internet collectively melted. There were memes, t-shirts and knitted hats.
Sure, there were Krovenian purists and human conspiracy theorists who were furious. There are always furious people. But the vast, overwhelming majority of the world thought baby Alexei was the cutest thing the two species had ever produced.
I set my book down quietly on my thigh and do the math. Claire got pregnant withinmonthsof becoming queen. This means that if I chose Viktor I would get pregnant immediately. Birth control would almost certainly not work against the Calling. The biology is designed to produce offspring. The body would override anything pharmaceutical that tried to interrupt it.
I glance up.
Viktor is watching me. He has been watching me for a moment, I realize. His book is still open on his lap but his dark eyes are on my face. His expression is unreadable in the dim lamplight. He does not ask what I am thinking. He just looks at me. Steady. Patient. Waiting.
I drop my eyes back to my book.
I love him. I have fallen in love with him. I do not know exactly when it happened. Maybe in the kitchen. Maybe in his study yesterday.
I press my lips together.
It’s now past midnight.Viktor recently checked on Lily’s temperature again and checked in with the Doctor. Madam Petrova has long ago gone to bed. The fire in the small hearth has settled to embers.
Lily breathes softly between us.
I wring out a fresh cool cloth and press it to her temple.
Viktor speaks quietly. “Hazel.”
