Page 114 of Of Shadows and Blood

“Please, rise,” I manage to say. Just as they lowered, they all rise and silence ensues. Astonishment reads across some faces. Confusion on others. A few unimpressed.

A quiet servant offers a tray with a chalice of blood to me from the side. Taking it, I warm the metal between my hands and raise it to the crowd. Half a minute passes and I realize I’m just holding this chalice in front of me with a stupid smile on my face.

Oh Gods, they want me to say more?

Saving the day, Sawyer steps beside me and raises his chalice like mine. “On this night of all nights, we celebrate a common moon who is no stranger to each of us. High above, she graces us with the changing of seasons and the birth of newness. Tonight, the royal family and those related raise a glass to new beginnings. Nothing in life is permanent. And as we rest upon our pillows this eve, tomorrow the moon will shine a little dimmer.”

“Thank you,” I strain behind my cup as I bring the chalice to my mouth, cuing the crowd to indulge as well.

“Please…” I motion to the musicians, trying to hide my embarrassed smile. The quartet bows before returning to their chairs and instruments. I at least feel comfort with them. The melody emitting from their strings reminds me of the last dance Cedric and I had.

Sawyer is no longer on the dais, no doubt mingling among the crowd to find a new woman to drive mad. The throne behind me does not feel right to sit upon with Cedric absent, so I wander around the room to make acquaintance with the visitors. Their coats bear the arms of their kingdoms, making them easy to spot.

“Lady Elivienne.” A man dressed in fine fabrics bows to me. “A pleasure to see you once more.”

“Likewise, er…” I trail off, realizing I will not recognize anyone here. My heart sinks into my stomach.

“Jon,” he cuts in, smiling from ear to ear. His tanned skin makes me wonder which kingdom he hails from.

“Thank you for attending, Jon. And your name?” I turn to the woman on his arm who curtsies slightly.

“Hanna, my lady.”

“We are lucky to have you both here. Please enjoy the night,” I add as I walk away slowly. This was to be expected, my confusion. Any conversation with questions is to be avoided. I will play the part.

Carefully, I weed through the crowd though they provide a wide berth as I meander through. No crown is upon my brow but they treat me as if so. Perhaps being the bonded of the strongest king of the continent has its perks. Servants keep an eye on me and provide refills without a request. Along the perimeter of the room are portraits of Cedric’s line. I pause in front of who I believe is his father.

His Majesty, Julian Nexul, King of Lux

The male’s hair is as dark and long as Cedric’s, though more kempt. He wears a similar doublet as Cedric and a detailed coat. Black as night with red threaded embroidery, charcoal fur along the lining. All vampyr look young but this portrait must have been redone later in his life because he looks middle-aged. The expression upon his face tells a story, though, one of hardness. Something inside me reads it, feels it. Perhaps a lingering memory.

“A tough man to please,” a voice from behind startles me. I jump and press my hand to my chest. Turning to face him, I do not hide my displeasure.

“You.”

“A thank you would suffice, Lady Elivienne,” Sawyer replies, taking a sip of his wine. “It’s probably best you do not remember my father, in truth. A nasty brute.”

“My condolences,” I say, remembering the gruesome death both our parents faced. Sawyer is not my favorite but he is not evil. Broken, yes, but not evil.

He finishes his silver chalice and places it on the tray of a passing servant. “Come,” he offers me his hand, looking away at the crowd.

“You’re mistaken – I’m not going anywhere with you,” I reply, taking a step backwards. He turns to look at me and laughs, re-offering his hand. “A dance, Liv. Please do me this one honor.” Our eyes lock and for some reason, I accept his offer.

The musicians begin a waltz as we slowly gravitate to the center of the room. “Isn’t this improper?” I whisper as my hand finds his shoulder. My other rests softly, nearly avoiding touch, in his. Sawyer leads us slowly in a circle, our feet seldom bumping into one another. The formed circle looks at us with intensity, which is something I notice on account of avoiding Sawyer’s stare.

“Improper?” He spins me around before recapturing my waist. “No, but maybe a little scandalous.”

I groan my disapproval, praying for the end of the song. We take a few more turns as more couples join the floor in an organized rhythm. Above us is a skylight showing the beauty of the moon bright above.

“Liv?”

“Sawyer.” I respond, finally looking into his eyes.

“Are you happy?”

“Of course, why would I not be?” Sawyer spins me again.

“Is your mind better? Is there progress?”