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Pure, unadulterated hatred bubbled up inside me, but I remained perfectly still, aware that any sign of enmity toward the emperor, especially given my position as a candidate, would doom me. We all waited until the vampire monarch settled himself on his throne before retaking our seats. Silence settled over the cavernous space as he sat back, his eyes roving over the assembled crowd. While the planes of his face were smooth and ageless, there was something about it that was harsh and unforgiving, like the sheer, rocky face of a mountain watching impassively as you foolishly attempted to scale it.
It had been over fifty years since I’d started down the warpath to bring Vladimir to justice for his multiple violations of theAccords. And as I finally looked upon his wicked face for the first time in my life, I felt like I was standing on a precipice, and that my destiny was a single leap away.
A ghostly hand slid down my spine, and I straightened, startled away from my murderous thoughts. Blinking, I turned my head to see Maximillian watching me.Settle,his eyes seemed to say even though his expression revealed nothing.Your time will come soon enough.
I tore my gaze from Maximillian and back to the dais as another vampire climbed the steps to the stage, taking up a place to the emperor’s right. He was a wizened male with white hair, a hawk nose, and blue veins running through his translucent flesh. Pure black robes with crimson vestments embroidered with ebon roots, serpents, and ravens, hung off his skeletal frame, and his eyes, though pure white and devoid of pupils, seemed to see everything as he looked out at the crowd.
A cold, slimy sensation slithered over my flesh as those otherworldly eyes landed on me, lingering for several seconds before moving on.
“That’s Alaric Grimcrest, the High Nexon of The Order of Tenebros,” Marisse whispered to me. “He’ll be leading the Dark Mass on the third night of the Summit.”
I shuddered. I was going to have to listen to this ancient, creepy vampire preach for over an hour? “Sounds like a good time,” I muttered.
Marisse shook her head. “It’s a night you’ll never forget,” she said softly, a haunted look entering her eyes.
Before I could ask what she meant by that, Vladimir Invictus began to speak. “Welcome to the Sanguine Summit,” he said,his deep voice echoing through the amphitheater. His diamond-hard gaze swept over the crowd, and stillness swept over the room, as if the mere sound of his voice had ensnared every person within. “We gather here every year with the blessing of our dark god to celebrate not only our six centuries of unity as one kingdom, but our unquestionable dominion over the human race and our ascension as the rightful rulers and custodians of Valentaera.”
Enthusiastic agreement rippled through the crowd, and Vladimir continued, his voice rising. “For two thousand years we suffered under the oppressive restrictions of the Midnight Accords, cut off from the world that is our birthright. And all because of a curse inflicted upon us for a crime committed not by us, but by the sun god!”
The crowd’s emotions swelled in response to the righteous anger in the emperor’s voice, and the hairs on my arms rose along with their enmity. “The witches sent their vampire hunters to stalk and punish us for the slightest infractions,” he continued, “and the humans reneged on even the slightest of agreements between our kingdoms, leaving us with no recourse!”
My jaw slackened, and I had to clench my teeth to keep my mouth from falling open. Seriously? The vampires thoughttheywere the victims in this story? Despite bathing in rivers of human and witch blood during the Chaos War, and then, in the decades leading up to the Eternal Night, engaging in numerous illegal enterprises, not the least of which included the drugging, trafficking, and experimentation on humansandwitches?
But as I looked around the summit hall, I could see that the other vampires were eating up Vladimir’s impassioned speech. Their eyes were alight with a sick sort of zeal, their expressions ranging anywhere from smug satisfaction, to starry-eyed awe, to a savagehunger that made me want to reach for the dagger strapped to my thigh. The sight of their unified determination and collective thirst was truly unsettling, and my heart sank as I wondered if killing the vampire king would really do anything to stop this war.
“They called us monsters,” Vladimir went on, his voice rumbling through the hall like dark thunder, “and so we became monsters, shedding all former ties to the other realms and turning to the one thing that has always kept us alive—our faith. And our dark god answered by presenting us with the glorious gift of Eternal Night.”
“A gift that we did not waste!” Lysander Bloodmare roared, and the crowd’s voice rose with him in collective triumph.
But I noticed that not everyone in the room shared the high lord’s fervent approval. Casimir’s face was a stoic mask, his arms hanging loose by his sides, and Viviana, the twin sister of House Stellaris’s heir, had an oddly blank expression on her face that was almost comical next to the pride shining in her brother Caelum’s eyes. Lazarus’s expression, of course, was the picture of delight, just like his fellow house brethren. But while Maximillian perfectly mirrored the savage ardor of his fellow vampires, I caught a glimpse of something that looked very much like sadness glimmering in the depths of his starfire gaze.
“Indeed,” Vladimir agreed once the noise had died down. “The long years my court and I have spent plotting and scheming finally came to fruition, and the human kingdoms crumbled like the fragile dominoes they always were. No longer shall we be hunted and scorned by those who are beneath us. Our vengeance is just, our conquest righteous, and once Trivaea is laid bare before us, we will claim our rightful place as the supreme rulersof this continent.In Tenebris, Regnamus!” he boomed, standing and punching his staff into the air in one motion.
In darkness, we reign,I translated numbly as the attendees roared it back.
I couldn’t think of a more appropriate motto if I tried.
23
Casimir
“Now,” the herald intoned, stepping forward as everyone in the summit hall took their seats again. “Let any petitioners come forward with announcements or concerns they wish to bring before the crown and assembly before the official sessions begin.”
As Casimir expected, Maximillian Starclaw rose from his chair. But so did Lazarus, and he moved swiftly, stalking toward the dais with predatory focus before the Psychoros heir could beat him to it.
The emperor’s brow furrowed as the Sanguis Noctis heir executed a deep bow before him. “Your Imperial Highness,” he said, his voice echoing through the chamber, “I stand before you and this assembly to bring forth a grave matter. It concerns the death of an esteemed member of my house, at the hands of a vampire outside of my purview to punish.”
Vladimir’s gilded eyebrows rose, and Casimir found himself leaning in a little, which surprised him. Unlike his peers, he rarely found court politics or drama especially interesting—though he was the youngest, he had been raised here at the Iron Spire, and there wasn’t much he hadn’t seen at this point.
“Who is the victim, and who is the accused?” his father asked.
Lazarus straightened. “The victim is Vinicius Clemante, commandant in the imperial army, and a member of Sanguis Noctis. And the accused…” he turned, jabbing a clawed fingernail toward the Psychoros delegation, “is Lord Maximillian Starclaw.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd as the two vampire heirs locked gazes, staring each other down in a silent battle of wills. But a faint expression of annoyance flickered across the emperor’s face, and Casimir could already tell this conversation would not go the way Lazarus wanted. “This matter has already been brought to my attention,” Vladimir said, flicking his hand in dismissal. “I see no reason to rehash it.”
“With all due respect,” Lazarus said before the spire guards could rush him away, “I do not believe you are aware of all the facts.”
“Is that right?” Vladimir asked, a bite of cold steel entering his voice. The look in his eyes was one Casimir recognized well—Lazarus was treading on dangerous ground. “And what, pray tell, do you suppose has escaped my notice? The disgraceful incident at the airshipyard, the abduction of Lord Starclaw’s thrall, or the audacious theft from the empire’s coffers in the delightful form of tax evasion?”
