I looked at her shocked.
“I’ve heard of some high bloods and even a handful of mid blood borns having mistresses, but you make it seems as if that is the norm.”
Dreya shrugged again. I was really beginning to hate that movement.
I gestured into the room. “May I sit with you for a moment?”
She rolled her eyes at me, making me frustrated, but she nodded as she also sat down. She sat at the end of the couch cushion, knees locked together, hands crossed on her lap, looking at me blankly.
I sat across from her on a chair. I continued to stare at her. She really was a beautiful woman. Very unique, even as she sat there in a casual floral dress.
“I made assumptions about you since the beginning.”
“You mean like I’m ‘that scoundrel’s daughter’?” She grinned widely at me.
I grimaced, as I looked away. I ran a hand down my face. “Yes. I judged you as soon as I saw your name on the documents at the Facility.”
“Hmmmm. Because of course I gave you every impression that I was like Mr. D’Avare.”
My gaze snapped back up to hers. “Why do you call him that?” It came out harder than I intended, but there was no taking it back.
“What?”
“Mr. D’Avare. Why do you call him that?”
“Because that was how I was instructed to address him.”
“By whom?”
“Mr. D’Avare.”
“Your father, told you, to call him, Mr. D’Avare?”
“Yes. That is what I just said.” She spoke to me like I was hard of hearing, which I guess it would appear that way since I literally asked her to repeat herself.
I frowned at her. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he didn’t want a daughter. He didn’t want a daughter with red hair. And he very obviously didn’t want me.”
I stared at her stunned. That would make sense. Her father rarely had her come out in public, like she was a big secret. I guess she really was, since not many people spoke on he having red hair. That would have been a hot topic among the vampyrs, even if not for the best reason. I was staring to realize I had entirely misjudged my blood wife.
I shifted uneasily. “You said he wanted you ‘clean and pure.’ Did he ever say why?”
She shrugged.“No.”
I was starting to suspect Mr. D’Avare simply didn’t want his heir out in public to be a scandal for his very precious name. I had made a huge mistake, assuming my blood wife was like her father, and treating her like a pariah. She had appeared eager, maybe too eager, in becoming my blood wife, which I had assumed was for some nefarious reason, when maybe she just wanted to have someone who cared.
I looked over her closely. “What about your mother?”
She shrugged.
“Please stop that!”
“Stop what?”
“That, that gesture with your shoulders.”
“Hmmmm.”
