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“Of course,” I said, taking her arm.
We made our way down the hall, and even from this distance, we could hear the revelry—loud chatter and laughs, screams and shrieks disturbing the night. The crowd was boisterous and likely reckless. I had no doubt our people would take full advantage of the festivities offered. We were all trying to escape the reality of the last week and the knowledge that tomorrow, when we awoke, we would face it once again.
The foyer was crowded with people. Some were drinking, some were dancing, others were fucking. The doors were open to the courtyard where a fire raged, and the air was full of smells, the strongest of which was the rotting flesh of the impaled bodies at the gate, though no one seemed to mind.
“My queen!” a man shouted. “Everyone, the queen is here!”
And suddenly, the crowd gathered began to chant, “Long live the queen!”
They were all drunk and happy, clearly forgetting my earlier departure from court, as Ana tugged me along into the hall.
It was far warmer here and just as crowded. I could only walk because the chanting from the foyer had carried into this room, and those gathered created a path for me—straight to Adrian, who sat at his high table. Daroc and Sorin were among those seated to his left while the chairs beside him were empty—one for me and one for Ana.
“Adrian may eat you alive,” Ana commented as we approached.
I held his gaze, which was darkening by the minute. What had he told me earlier? That he wanted to fuck me before his court?
Adrian stood to take my hand as he escorted me up the steps to my place beside him.
“You look beautiful,” he said as we sat, and I did not speak. “Will you be cross with me all evening?”
Instead of responding, I took a sip of wine.
“So we have progressed to the silent treatment?”
Once more, I was quiet, though not speaking to him took far more discipline than I expected. I wanted to look at him and I had things to say, but none of them were for this space.
I thought that perhaps he had given up on getting my attention when he spoke again.
“Will you not eat?” he asked, and the way he posed the question—warm and gentle—I could not help looking at him. He leaned toward me, a plum in hand. The fruit was dark in color—a rich purple that promised sweetness.
Adrian waited, patient, and I took his hand and drew the plum to my lips, holding his gaze until the skin gave way beneath my bite. For a moment, I let myself wonder if this was how it felt when Adrian took my blood. My mouth was instantly flooded with sweet nectar, and as it dripped down my chin. I gathered it with a swipe of my finger.
Adrian snatched my hand and drew my fingers into his mouth, and as he sucked them, heat blasted through my body.
When he released me, he held my gaze and whispered, “Perfect.”
This was his way of apologizing—but it was not the one I wanted.
The sound of breaking glass and shouting drew our attention to the crowd where a vampire stumbled back, hands clasped around a piece of shattered glass that was embedded in his arm.
“Bastard!” another vampire cried, another shard of glass in his hand. “How dare you drink from my vassal!”
He vaulted from behind one of the banquet tables and pounced, knocking him to the ground. The crowd cheered as the two men brawled, rolling around on the marble floor.
I looked at Ana.
“Are vassals not shared?” I asked.
“Some are,” she replied. “Some aren’t. It is a choice as personal as sharing a partner.”
“Is the offense punishable by death?”
“Yes.” It was Adrian who answered with a frustrated hiss, and he waited until I looked at him to add, “Though I suppose I am just speaking for myself.”
The crowd grew louder and more disorderly as more people joined the scuffle. Before it got out of hand, Adrian signaled to the guards, who moved in, separating the two vampires and dragging them from the room. A crowd followed, still encouraging the fight, and in the relative quiet that followed, someone yelled, “Music!”
A cheery tune began and enough space was made on the floor for people to dance.
