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“Eat,” Maximillian said. “Before your food gets cold.”
I opened my mouth, a gaggle of questions on my tongue, but Maximillian lifted the cover off his own plate, revealing a grilled fish fillet on a bed of greens. My stomach growled at the sight of the food, and my mouth watered as the scent of the meat wafted across the table toward me. Anticipation bubbled up inside me at the thought of eating food—real, solid food—and despite myself, I whisked off the plate cover, eager to see what lay beneath.
That excitement deflated in an instant as I took in what appeared to be a bowlful of mush.
“Is this…” I picked up a spoon and poked at the unappetizing looking mash, “… gruel?”
“Root vegetable mash,” Maximillian supplied. I looked up to see me watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Gruel would have been a better choice for you, but we’re in short supply of grains these days.”
I shook my head, bewildered. “I don’t understand. You had me dress in these fancy clothes, and come all the way to your fancy dining room, to eat mash?” Did all humans eat this way under vampire rule? Or was this an attempt for Maximillian to assert his superiority over me? I would have found it insulting if I hadn’t been caught so off guard.
“When you put it that way, it does sound rather cruel,” Maximillian said. He propped his chin on his fist as he stared ruefully at my meal. “I’m sure you would prefer a more exciting meal than this after being locked away for fifty years, Kitten, but I’d rather not watch you projectile vomit all over my dining room. I’m told it’s best to reintroduce food slowly after a period of starvation.”
“Oh.” I glanced down at the bowl of mash again, deflating. Of course. That aetheric machine may have restored most of my wasted body, but that didn’t change the fact that my stomach had been out of commission for a very long time. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
I braced for some kind of sneering retort from the vampire lord, but he only nodded. “I’m not surprised. The realities of recovering from starvation would be the last thing on your mind, given all that you’ve seen.”
I scooped up a spoonful of mash, trying not to scowl. I hated that he was being so understanding, soreasonable.I wanted someone to fight, someone to take my frustration out on, andsince I couldn’t set foot outside this building without having a meltdown, he was my only available target.
But when I shoved the spoon of mash in my mouth, every single thought evaporated as my tastebuds came alive. I expected the mash to be bland, but it had been so long since I’d eaten anything that the subtle flavors were a symphony on my tongue. I closed my eyes, savoring not just the sweet, earthy taste, but the warmth spreading through the cavern of my mouth. The creamy texture was a welcome weight on my tongue, and an eternity seemed to pass before I remembered to swallow.
A ravenous hunger rose inside me as the mash slid down my throat, entering the cavernous pit of my stomach. I shoved another spoonful in my mouth, then another, and then—
“Slow down,” Maximillian said sharply. I ignored him, stabbing for the bowl again, but my spoon scraped against the table instead as the bowl slid away from me. Annoyed, I reached for the bowl, but it scooted farther back, out of my reach.
“Give it back.” I glared at him.
“No.”
I opened my mouth, prepared to threaten him with bodily harm, but a wave of nausea rolled through me, and I clamped it shut.
Fuck.
I sat back in my chair as the weight of the food—so little, only a few bites—suddenly made itself known in my stomach. It pitched, railing against the inconsiderate assault I’d launched at it, and I pressed a hand against it, taking in slow breaths through my nose to steady myself.
Maximillian raised his eyebrows, the 'I told you so'look written across his face plain as day. A hot prickle of embarrassment washed down the back of my neck, but he said nothing, taking a sip from his goblet as he waited patiently for me to regain my composure. My mouth went dry as he licked the blood from his lips, and I glanced away, staring into the hearth instead.
“I think I’ll save the rest for later,” I said, once I was certain I could speak without vomiting.
“A wise decision. I can have it sent to your room later, if you prefer.”
I looked back at him, my lips pursing. “I don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me.”
“Conventional wisdom suggests that when you want something from someone, they’re far more likely to give it to you when you treat them with kindness and respect.” Maximillian leaned back in his chair and studied me over the rim of his goblet. “But aside from that, I find you fascinating, Kitana Nightshade. You have an interesting past, to say the least."
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you rose to be one of the most fearsome warriors in your clan, despite the fact that you are a no-name orphan with no real family background, and that you lack the ability to wield lunar magic—one of the two signature abilities of your clan. Yet it was your shadow magic, stronger than any witch who has come before you, that made you so formidable before you were imprisoned. Your ability to shadow travel, appearing like a wraith in the night to hunt down unsuspecting vampires, is what made you a household name in our realm. Yet despite your magical prowess—or perhaps because of it—the heir to your clandecided to lock you away just as you were beginning to make real headway with your movement against us.”
I clenched my hands beneath the table as the memory of Sebastian’s face flashed in my mind. The regret in his ochre eyes as he shoved me into the sarcophagus. The hot lance of betrayal that speared my chest as he’d slid the coffin lid over my face. The rawness in my throat after screaming his name for hours, and the yawning pit of despair I’d fallen into when I realized that, after everything I’d done for my people, no one was coming for me.
I wasn’t a particularly vengeful person, but I’d spent the past fifty years dreaming of all the ways I’d kill him. Slowly, painfully, bringing him back from the brink again and again until he begged for death.
“I can help you get your vengeance,” Maximillian said softly. “Help you make him pay for his betrayal.”
“I don’t need your help.” I smoothed the skirts of my dress again, striving for calm. “The only reason he was able to imprison me is because he caught me off guard. He won’t be able to touch me again, not once I’m at full strength.”
“Ahh, but what will you do until then?” Maximillian flicked his gaze toward the windows, and the curtains swished open. I flinched as they revealed a bay of windows offering an unobstructed view of the city skyline, and more importantly, the crescent moon hanging above it. “You’ll need to perform the Twilight Communion beneath the full moon in order to refill your magical reservoir, and that celestial event won’t occur for another three weeks. Where will you go until then? Who will you find shelter with?”
