Page 157 of Blood Curse

“It’s yours,” Mara said. “That’s why we’re locking it rather than stealing it.”

He released the knife and walked into the hall.

The choice mattered more than the weapon. He had argued, received a real answer and remained free to leave. The old court would have expected obedience. This one needed enough room for disagreement.

Lenora crossed the lower court carrying a ring of keys. Two human workers followed with folded cloths and buckets of fresh sand. She sent them towards the cellar, then stopped beside us.

“The household staff will finish in twenty minutes and stay out of this part of the house once the bottles open,” she said. “They know which stairs remain clear.”

“Do they know why?” I asked.

“They know a room full of hungry vampires doesn’t improve when humans wander into it. They don’t need a lecture about the Crown.”

“Agreed.”

Lenora looked at Mara. “The west door sticks.”

“I’ll deal with it.”

Lenora passed her the key ring. “Oil it. I’m taking the staff upstairs.”

She left with the same two people she had brought down. She didn’t check Bryony, linger beside me or ask whether the vampires could manage without her. She completed the useful task and removed the humans from danger.

Her footsteps faded while the work continued on every side of us.

Mara watched her go. “I like her.”

“She threatened you with a poker two nights ago.”

“I liked that too.”

A table struck the wall behind us.

“Careful,” Mara called.

The two vampires moving it changed their grip and cleared the corner on the second attempt.

I reached for the next table. Mara put one hand on its edge before I could move it.

“I can organise a room.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you moving furniture like you expect me to vanish?”

“Because helping you isn’t the same as checking your work.” I took the other end. “And because that corner needs to remain clear.”

She considered the space. “It does.”

We carried the table together.

When we set it down, Mara kept her hands on the wood. “Carrying the court doesn’t mean carrying every table.”

“I’m not proving anything.”

“You spent over a century unable to cross a gate. Now you’re trying to stand in every doorway at once.”

“And you spent those years surviving without me. I’m not taking the work back from you.” I straightened the table by an inch. “I’m choosing to do some of it beside you.”