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“A vehicle?” she asked, a little surprised. “Where’s your mount?”
“We took Caelum’s carriage, so I left him at home.” His destrier-style aethersteed with its distinctive red and gold metal design drew too much attention, and he’d wanted to maintain a low profile.
A black hansom cab pulled up to the curb, and Casimir handed Viviana into it before joining her inside. He gritted his teeth as his knees knocked into hers, but the lady of House Stellaris didn’t seem to notice. She hooked a lock of white hair behind herear and turned her face to stare out the window as the cab began to navigate Umbral’s winding streets.
Viviana and Caelum both shared a distinctive white streak that cut across one wing of their otherwise black hair—hers on the right, his on the left. Star-touched, some called them—the twin heirs of House Stellaris that should have never been.
Technically, only one of them was the heir, as female vampires could not have children. Since the curse of vampirism had struck them over two thousand years ago, only male Nightforged were able to procreate, making Noxalis’s surviving bloodlines patriarchal by default.
Still, the fact that Viviana wasn’t the heir of her house didn’t make her any less special. While Caelum was born with the typical abilities of House Stellaris—shadowfire, and a natural affinity for astronomy—Viviana was a seer, gifted with the power of prophecy and foresight. Her ability was wildly unpredictable, her visions as likely to strike during a meditation session as they were during a simple conversation over tea. Yet she was still considered precious not just by their fathers, but by all of vampire nobility. A seer hadn’t been born to House Stellaris since the death of Astellion, Tenebros’s previous incarnation as the God of Night and the Celestial Heavens. She was rarer than a falling star, and fiercely guarded.
Unfortunately for her guards, she was an expert at evading them.
Viviana frowned as she noticed Casimir’s gaze on her face and turned her attention from the window to look at him. “You don’t have to treat me like a child, you know,” she said, her dulcet voice full of reproach. “I know I don’t look it, but I’m two hundred years your senior.”
Casimir rolled his eyes. “Everyone at this court is centuries older than me.” At only seventy-four years of age, Casimir was a baby by vampire standards, especially when compared to his father. Emperor Vladimir was over twelve-hundred years old, andhisfather before him had been alive during Astellion’s Descent—the chaotic period of transition when the Nightforged had transformed into vampires, followed by the Chaos War that had erupted between the three realms. It was honestly a wonder that one of the other Invictus families hadn’t assassinated him after ruling for so many centuries without producing an heir. Casimir supposed he was his father’s saving grace, though the emperor certainly didn’t treat him as such.
“Besides,” he continued, fixing Viviana with a stern look, “I wouldn’t have to treat you like a child if you behaved like an adult. There is a perfectly valid reason your father commanded you to stay at the castle, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Viviana folded her arms, saying nothing. It was a well-known fact that Lady Stellaris’s prophetic ability had also left her with a touch of madness. She had blackout episodes where she was prone to speak in tongues, tear at her clothing, and even dance naked in the streets. These episodes weren’t frequent, but like her visions, they could happen anywhere, at anytime, which was why she was not permitted to roam the streets of Umbral, or go anywhere without an escort.
Her brother, Caelum, was extremely protective of her, but Viviana found him overbearing. Had she refused to go with him out of spite, he would have tossed her over his shoulder and stormed back to the castle with her, and their father would have punished them both—her for leaving, and Caelum for leaving her unattended in the first place. By taking her back, Casimir could avoid all that mess, and if Highlord Ingatius saw themtogether… well, he couldn’t very well object to the Crown Prince himself taking his daughter out on the town, could he?
The hansom cab came to a stop outside the gates to the Iron Spire, and Casimir stepped out so he could hand Viviana down and pay the driver for his trouble. The guards at the gate leaped into action as soon as they saw the prince’s face, opening a small door built into the gate so they could enter discreetly.
“Your Highness,” the guard murmured they passed. “Lady Stellaris.”
As soon as they cleared the gate, Casimir grabbed Viviana’s hand and stalked toward one of the castle’s side entrances. There was enough commotion from servants and slaves running around to carry out last minute preparations that no one paid them a second glance, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks down to Tenebros.
They’d nearly made it to the entrance when Casimir heard the main gates of the castle groan open.
Despite his better judgment, Casimir found himself turning toward the sound. “Oooh,” Viviana cooed as they watched a midnight blue carriage pulled by two aethersteeds roll into the courtyard. “Maximillian has finally arrived. I’ve been dying to meet his little pet.”
“Oh?” Casimir lifted a brow. What was so special about a single human to merit the seer’s attention?
“I heard he’s presenting her as a candidate for the Descendency,” Viviana said as the carriage came to a stop outside the stables. “It’s been over fifty years since Desdemona passed, so I’m excited to see who he’s finally chosen as her replacement.”
Casimir narrowed his eyes as a footman rushed to open the door for the arriving vampires. Lord Starclaw emerged first, the moonlight glinting against the top of his distinctive blue-grey hair. Of the four house heirs, Casimir had always found Maximillian the most tolerable—he was level-headed and practical, and tended to lend more reasoned viewpoints to debates and discussions regarding statecraft. The crown prince didn’t always agree with Maximillian’s recommendations, but he respected the vampire male for his consistent efforts to put the welfare of his subjects—vampire and human alike—over his personal needs and desires.
There was a strange sort of natural order when it came to vampire procreation, and Casimir wasn’t certain whether Tenebros himself had implemented it, or if it was enforced by the universe itself. Natural born vampires such as Maximillian and Casimir could only produce four vampire children at one time—any attempts beyond that number resulted in the death of the human every time, with no known exceptions.
Maximillian’s youngest vampire childe, Desdemona, had been killed during the War of Eternal Night, and he had loved her deeply enough that he had elected not to replace her, much to the consternation of his father. It was generally encouraged for vampires to replace their children as soon as possible, because each successive generation could produce more vampires than the one before. A child of a natural vampire could produce seven more children, and those offspring could produce ten more, and the number continued to increase exponentially all the way down to the sixth generation, which could produce unlimited numbers, though the Turning success rate was far lower. Those vampires tended to be the weakest, with no magic to speak of, but they made excellent fodder for the emperor’s military.
It was a surprise indeed to see that Maximillian had finally made the decision to replace Desdemona. And Casimir found himself curious to see who the Psychoros heir had chosen.
Lucius, Maximillian’s oldest childe, exited the carriage after Maximillian, his sharp amber eyes sweeping the surrounding area for threats. They found Casimir’s at once, and he inclined his head fractionally before continuing his assessment. Casimir nodded back, appreciative that the vampire had respected his unspoken need for anonymity by not drawing attention to him. He watched as Lucius strode over to the footmen unloading the carriage trunk to bark orders to them, while Maximillian returned to the carriage door, offering his hand to the woman still inside.
Casimir wasn’t sure why, but he held his breath as she emerged. Her hair, black with brown highlights and wavy, cascaded around her shoulders, a stark contrast against her pale, moonlit skin. The bodice of the midnight blue velvet gown she wore clung to her figure, accentuating her curves before flaring out into a flowing skirt that swirled around her ankles. The gown, combined with her hair, seemed to absorb the surrounding light, making her appear as if she had stepped out of the night itself. As she raised her head, Casimir noticed a beauty mark just beneath the corner of her left eye, enhancing the striking features of her square-shaped face. Most arresting were her violet eyes—a shade Casimir had never seen before.
As the crown prince stared at the woman, he became aware of a tug in the center of his chest. It was as though someone had hooked a finger into his torso and was trying to pull him forward. Frowning, he placed a hand against his solar plexus, wondering if perhaps he had a cramp. But the strange sensation persisted.
Before he could decide whether to act on the impulse to move closer, Viviana seized his arm. Her claws shredded the sleeve of his jacket, and he whirled just in time to see her eyes roll back into her head, her spine wrenching as though she’d been speared by a bolt of lightning.
“She is the one who will awaken you,”she rasped in a voice much higher and breathier than her usual dulcet tones.“The one who will open your eyes to the deadly truth your mother buried within you.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and she collapsed like a stone as whatever entity that seized control of her body vanished. “Viviana!” Casimir caught her by the shoulders before her knees could hit the ground and hauled her upright, shock and confusion whirling inside him. “Lady Stellaris, are you all right?”
Viviana’s eyelashes fluttered as she came back to herself, and Casimir exhaled in relief as her inky eyes found his in the darkness. “Well, that was interesting,” she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to clear it. “I haven’t had one of those in a while. What did I say this time?”
