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“That is my cue to take my leave.” Cassius kisses me on the cheek, and in the next moment, he’s gone. A soft rush of air swirling in his wake.
I take a deep breath and blow it out, then follow Della. The sun has nearly set, and the gray sky seems to grow heavier by the second.
We climb into the carriage. Suddenly it is too difficult to speak. I can’t tell if Della feels the same or if she’s giving me space to sit silently if I need it.
The curtains over the windows remain drawn. We only travel for a short time before we come to an abrupt stop. We’ve only just left the cobbled streets of the city, and it is far too quiet outside, so I know we haven’t arrived yet.
I pull back the corner of the curtain, chancing a peek out, but see only darkness beyond. Then I catch the rumble of men’s voices. Just as I send a questioning glance toward Della, Lawrence and Bram climb in, joining us.
The driver sets the horses back into motion the moment the door is closed. Looking at both men now, it’s impossible to tell what they’ve been up to or that they could be involved with anything outside attending the coronation.
“Where is Cassius?” I ask.
“He is taking another carriage with my sister,” Bram explains.
Lawrence relaxes back into his seat, a bored expression sliding across his features as he smooths his fingers down his lapels and sleeves, erasing nonexistent wrinkles.
“Many vampires will bring their own humans. As the three of us are not officially attached to anyone else, it will not appear odd for us to bestow the honor on someone to witness such an event or act as a source of sustenance, should we require it.”
Della tenses beside me.
If Lawrence notices as well, he makes no sign of it. He reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small perfume bottle and offers it to Della. She sprays herself, then me, before offering it to Bram. When he’s finished, he passes it back to Lawrence to use the remainder of the lightly scented liquid.
The hollow sound of hooves on wood signals that we are now crossing the drawbridge over the crescent chasm bordering the western edge of Nightwich.
Lawrence lowers the window, letting in a biting wind that steels my breath. He tosses the empty bottle with a flick of his wrist. There’s something about the lack of glass shattering that’s unsettling. I don’t take another breath until we are on solid ground again.
We proceed in a series of halts and jolting starts. I clasp my clammy palms in my lap to keep from fidgeting.
The two vampires don their masks, signaling for me and Bram to do the same. Everyone appears so calm compared to how I feel inside. It makes me wonder if I will be able to do what is needed….
Do they have more faith in me than I deserve?
You are more than capable.Varin’s voice says softly against my mind. It’s the first they’ve spoken since the bath.Remember,I am with you.
Everyone remains seated until a footman opens the carriage door. The men exit first, each reaching in to hand us down. Lights are set in nearly every visible window of the castle. Bleached white branches, made to look like bones and antlers are twisted together with thin silver wire decorate the outside walls.
I suppress a shiver at the stray thought that some might be precisely what they appear to be. I keep my head up, but my eyes downcast, not wanting to examine it close enough to find out.
Lawrence’s arm tightens against my hand hooked into the crook of his arm as we reach the entrance. He lifts his mask and gives his and Della’s names. The sentinel’s cold glare cuts from me to Bram, but Lawrence doesn’t provide ours. His silence must communicate enough because the man nods and lets us through.
It is strange to be within the walls of Nightwich again, feeling both familiar and alien. The din of voices carries out through the arched doors and into the great hall. More sconces have been mounted to the walls and lit, chasing away the shadows from every corner.
The throne room is even brighter, with crystal chandeliers and polished metal branch-like garlands wrapping around every pillar. The air is thick with the scent of honey and is too warm even with half the balcony doors open.
Musicians play near the balcony, the is song upbeat and loud enough for dancing yet not drowning out conversations. Silk and velvet garments of every dark hue swirl in time with the music.
Dancers move in perfect synchronization, not a single misstep as they whirl in tight circles that make up larger intersecting ones.
There are several long tables draped in burgundy and black lace cloth, stacked with platters of food. At the center of each is a different roasted animal, still whole. Bowls with different colored liquids ranging from amber to dark red. Some have slices of fruit, others flower petals, or nothing at all.
Human servants bustle in and out of side passages, adding more and more to the tables until every inch holds some decadent dish.
Several vampires feed on their mortal guests, tucked away in corners, against pillars, and even as they dance.
Upon the dais, Elizabeth sits back on her throne, watching the revelers, fingers tapping to the beat of the music on the arms. Beside her is another throne, slightly smaller and empty.
Atop her head sits the heavy, bone-white crown studded with rubies on its sharp points and along the base of the band. It looks like fangs covered in blood, protruding from red lips. Several strands of pale blonde hair are twisted into knots and cascade over her shoulders in immaculate curls.
