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Arc 3: All That Glisters (Part 14)
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 3: All That Glisters (Part 15)
Canus’s decision, as reluctant as it is, seems to please Scintilla. She thanks him and leaves the room, giving me a brief smile on her way out. Meanwhile, Canus begins to explain what I’ll need for court tomorrow. I tune him out, however, listening instead for Scintilla’s footsteps to fade out of hearing. ‘…not greet anyone else with any deference, as you—’ ‘Sire,’ I interrupt quietly, ‘did Scintilla give any other reasons for not going to court tomorrow?’ Canus blinks. ‘Hasn’t there been a suspicious lack of foreign scents lately? She claimed she would be a better guard. Her sorcery has been improving drastically in the past month or so, and she’s always been better at physical combat than you.’ ‘Oh, right,’ I say. ‘If I may, Sire, I’ll see you in the evening? I just remembered that Katy changed her schedule a little, so I need to tell Scintilla about it before she turns in for the morning.’ ‘Have her help you pick out appropriate clothes, then. I’ll instruct you further in etiqu
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Canus stares at me, expression unreadable. There’s the soft wet sound of his throat working, then the barest snick of his lips parting. ‘How much do you…’ he begins to ask, but trails off without finishing. The silence stretches on for a long time before I take pity on him: ‘Remember from my human life? I’ve gotten flashes. When we first met in the café, some of the dinner parties you hosted. That time you took me to a conference in Rome.’ For a moment, I can almost remember the taste of rooibos tea, smell the warm scent of freshly baked lemon cake, see the glitter of the Tiber river at noon. He lets out a soft breath. ‘The early days, then.’ He sounds relieved. I realise that I’d been wrong about something. ‘Why don’t you want me to remember more?’ As much as he’s still in love with Aura, he’s also terribly afraid of her. He shakes his head, refusing to answer. ‘Have you gone back to your flat again?’ ‘When would I have had the time?’ I return. Actually, I mostly haven’t gone ba
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The court receives our company with polite smiles and a careful façade of respect. By virtue of their stations, Chryseus and Canus are able to directly approach the Prince, who looks aged in a way that only vampires can. He can’t have been more than twenty when he became immortal, but, at first glance, nobody would ever realise it. There’s a strange sense of fatigue, of parchment fragility, that is utterly incongruous with his youthful appearance. I pay more attention to his features this time around. His hair is blond, paler than Canus and less saturated than Chryseus, and his eyes are a fathomless green. He shares a nose and a mouth with Canus, and the shape of his eyes are identical to Chryseus’s, down to their long eyelashes in dark blond. All three of them have similar jawlines and eyebrows, and they share, too, an eerie beauty that I begin to suspect is a vestige of their dhampiric heritage. Most immortals are attractive, of course. For one, most vampires go out of their way t
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I give a Canus tight smile before slipping away, ducking out the nearest exit before anyone else can think that I might be free for conversation. The hallway is sparsely populated by thralls, who I ignore as I quicken my pace, drawing on my blood to attract the shadows around me in a shroud of near-invisibility. Chryseus didn’t leave that far ahead of me, but he’s out of both sight and hearing, so I have to rely on the trail of his scent. There’s a noisome mix of vampiric scents all around, but his ozone and tobacco combination is familiar to me. The more I tune my senses to it, however, the more a small part of me wants to revolt. It’s a visceral reminder of that night everything went wrong, more so than anything else I’ve encountered so far—even sparring with Scintilla isn’t as much of a trigger for those unpleasant memories. Chryseus doesn’t go far, ducking into a secluded room that I vaguely remember as a spacious parlour. He’s closed the door, however, so I can’t follow him ins
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The crowd near me has thickened over the past little while, and Chryseus meanders as he makes his way through, a circling vulture in a room of winding reptiles. I perk up once it becomes clear that he’s planning to talk to me, acting as flattered as anyone else might be when singled out by such an important man. ‘Lord Chryseus,’ I say, standing up and making as if to bow. He waves a hand to stop me. ‘Please, not on my account, my dear. After all, we’re practically family.’ I giggle obligingly. ‘I wouldn’t want to presume.’ ‘I thought I’d keep you company for a while. It’s very negligent of my brother to leave you here all on your own, and on your first night, no less.’ He sits down, not in the nearby chaise longue, nor in the three-seat sofa perpendicular to me, but directly next to me in the loveseat itself, the spot that Canus vacated only a short while ago. I tense automatically, and he seems to notice, moving back a little. ‘It’s my own fault,’ I say. ‘I forgot to go hunting
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Even though I’ve been expecting something like this ever since I overheard Chryseus’s phone call, I feel as if all my blood has frozen in my veins. They’ve caught Scinty and Katy, and Canus is only—I glance at the time—thirty-five minutes out. I try to estimate the current traffic conditions.its ok. s is otw. hell be another 15 i think. maybe 20.I press send, then immediately add:call him. he can get there faster if he runs.Even as the second message sends, Scintilla’s reply comes in:I can’t hold out that long. They’re already closing in. Ur scent ward is good but they’re doing another full sweep of anti sorc. I don’t think I can resist anotherA second message comes through as i finish reading the first:Even if he runs I don’t think itd be fast enoughThis means that she’s already resisted one or more castings of dispelment sorcery. I’m impressed; I hadn’t realised she’s good enough to do that. My sense of pride for her is overshadowed by the issue at hand, however. My mind whi
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‘What are you?’ Annia gasps.‘Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you,’ I demand instead of answering. And it feels so good, the glow of light flaring around me, sustaining me with its power, that I know I can do it too. I can, and I should.Annia knows too much. She saw me draw shadows around myself, stood by as I successfully spied on her Sire, and now cowers, blinded by the radiance of my light, this strange power that feels like sorcery but can’t be, because my blood is that of an immortal, it’s that of a creature that shies away from all true light, be it sun or fire or even electric bulbs.But I don’t want to. Even as Annia whimpers and cries, I come to the sudden realisation that it’s not her fault. She wasn’t the one who decided I needed watching. She could have told Chryseus at any point before now about how I followed him, but she hasn’t. She couldn’t promise to keep it from him forever, of course, but how could she? He’s her Sire.‘Please,’ Annia says, but I’ve already retracted t
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‘How much do you know of our history?’ Annia whispers once we’re both safely within the sheer darkness shrouded by the grotesquely gilded blocks of ancient stone. A faint scent of ocean and lavender suffuses the space, strangely compelling in contrast with the undercurrent of dust and metal.‘Of our bloodline?’ I ask, then continue without waiting for a confirmation, ‘The first queen of Britain sought guidance from Nox in this shrine, but she only ever had one progeny, her husband—bonded mate, I should say, since they didn’t really have marriages back then.‘Eventually, the queen grew tired of unlife and asked Nox for a way to pass on while also ensuring that her subjects would be well-cared for. Nox told her to have her husband, the original Prince of London, consume her heart, so that his line could rule until someone as worthy as her arrives to take the throne again.’It’s a common story, one that justifies the power that the various Princes of London exerts upon the rest of the va
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‘Please, my lady, there’s no one else!’Strangely enough, the man pleading to me from outside the reception chamber sounds completely mortal. He must have been a thrall at some point, but he can’t be any longer, not with that level of emotion to his voice.‘Simon, let him approach.’Simon gives me a look that speaks volumes of my presumed softness, which I pretend to ignore. To him, this is the first time that I've held court as Canus’s representative, but I’ve done it before, a time or two, back during my first life. It takes a moment, but Simon eventually unbars the door, letting in the human. Only two other petitioners are in the room, and though they seem annoyed, they also make no move to protest as I skip over their non-queue.As the human approaches, I realise that he’s somewhat familiar. I’ve seen him before. At court? No—he looked younger back then, barely more than a teenager, and he’d been immortal when we met, barely more than a newborn and stuck fast to his master, a dark
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Canus and I don’t bother going in the front door. Instead, we peek around to the back. Only when we see a ghastly hole in the ground in the cemetery, raw soil overturned atop the lawn where Katy’s grave must have been, do we continue on inside.The halls are unlit and tranquil, but Canus doesn’t hesitate as he takes the winding turns that lead him to a suite of rooms that I don’t remember ever noticing before. It’s in an entire different section of the estate than the wing where Scintilla and I were assigned rooms. It’s been somewhat hastily refurbished, the must of decades of neglect mixing in with the sharp smell of self-assembly furniture.The door has been left ajar, and Canus and I slip in the small reception area just as Scintilla slips out of what must be Katy’s bedroom.‘Sire,’ she whispers, head bowed.I catch her gaze when she looks up and flash her a supportive smile. She doesn’t return it, but something about her bearing softens just the slightest.Canus jerks his chin tow
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The car swerves—that’s how startled Canus is by my question. When he regains control of it again, his fingers are tight around the leather of his steering wheel.‘Come again?’ he says. ‘I could have sworn that you said—’‘That Annia is convinced that I’m to be the Starlight Queen? Yes, I did. She saw me eavesdropping on Chryseus and didn’t report it to him, as far as I can tell. Lady Chalcea seems to trust her, too.’It’s not until the last sentence that Canus seems to relax a little. I grin to myself. For all that he calls her a spoiled brat, Canus still trusts his sister’s judgement.‘She was the one who took me to the shrine and told me who the Starlight Queen was supposed to be,’ I continue. ‘That is, after I accidentally lost my temper at her.’It feels so easy to tell Canus the truth, like some great burden is being lifted from my shoulders. I once imagined myself to be a practised hand at secrecy, but that was when I still had Scintilla or Chryseus in which to confide. I hadn’t
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‘I love you, too, Favilla. Always have, always will,’ he says. It’s as gentle as I’ve come to expect of him, as steadfast and sincere as I could ever wish for. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, and then, as one, we say, ‘I’m sorry.’ We both pause, then open our mouths, then close them upon seeing our actions mirrored in one another. ‘You first,’ I say when I open my mouth again. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about,’ he says. ‘I do,’ I insist. ‘I’m sorry I did that to you. I didn’t mean to. You were never supposed to be the one to find me. I was—’ I pause, realising that it might not necessarily be the best path to follow. I start again: ‘I mean, I know I’m not Aura any longer, that she was the one who made the decision, that she was probably very ill and in a very bad place mentally, but I still feel responsible, somehow, for putting you through that. Please, let me apologise for that, at least.’ He seems to consider it for a moment, but then he nods, mind made up. ‘
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‘It was grandad’s, you know. An antique, though I suppose not quite so antique as you.’ It had a smooth handle worn down by three generations of use, and it kept its edge remarkably well considering it went about a dozen years without anyone bothering to check on it.‘I did keep it, yes,’ Canus confesses.‘It’s pretty, isn’t it?’ I remember how its silver blade flashed in the dim and flickering candlelight. Looking back, I recognise how silly it was to put a tealight in the sink to see by. My thought process had been that, even if some strange happenstance knocked it over, I’d at least be certain that it wouldn’t catch the entire block on fire. I could have used proper lights, I suppose, but I was loath to waste electricity if it was going to be ages before anyone found me. If I were to die, I could at least help spare the planet from a similar fate.At first there was nothing, and then it hurt so much that I could barely slash my other wrist as well. Shortly thereafter, the cold came
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Not much has changed since I last visited less than two months ago. The scent of my human self is worked into every corner, overlaid by a strange sense of corruption. I briefly seat myself on the back of the settee, looking around the cramped space. As Canus mentioned, the kitchen table is missing from its place. Otherwise, the cabinets are all shut, and all the flat surfaces are empty safe for the thinnest layer of dust—no humans, no dead skin cells, no new dust being generated.I grimace and stand up. Walking into the bedroom, I see empty air where previously were the scattered personal effects that Canus had originally deemed too sensitive for me to see. They, of course, are hidden away in my study back at the estate, and, as loath as I am to agree with Canus, I still have yet to page through them properly.‘A bit of a let-down,’ I comment. ‘I thought you said I’d remember something.’Canus says, practically into my ear, ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know where I need you to go.’I jump
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With my new revelation, tracking down three more victims and feeding Canus in between hunting is relatively trivial. It puts a new spin on the act, however. The pain that I derive from Canus’s feeding is no less than before, but now it comes with a sense of vindication. Now, every time he pulls away and licks my blood from his lips, I see the hidden emotions dwelling in their depths—guilt and desire. Suddenly, I feel bad for him. I even feel the barest twinge of sympathy for Chryseus. The two of them have been hit the worst by the bloodline curse, enough so that they’ve been forced to feed on their progeny. What’s more, I suddenly understand that they must hate it, that they must hate seeing the source of their guilt every day, to feed from us time and time again. ‘It’s always like this, isn’t it?’ I ask after I come back from my last victim, healed and more fully sated than I’ve ever been. ‘The guilt?’ Very carefully, Chryseus nods. ‘That’s the real curse, I think. My Father likes
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All thoughts of sustenance escape me. I stand, frozen, watching the bright glint of luminescence that is my mark slip further and further down the corridor before turning in the direction of the tearoom. The bleached white walls and linoleum flooring are dark without her presence, but I don’t even care. I’m remembering back to a conversation I had with Chryseus. It doesn’t count, I said, laughing. Your progeny are all older than me. Then I’ll ask Father for another progeny, Chryseus replied, a glint in his eyes. It’s been decades since my last. He’ll accept. It won’t be the same, I insisted. You wouldn’t get to see them as a child. We can adopt a mortal baby, then. If we ask Father for special permission, I’m sure he’ll agree, especially if we raise it as a witch. If the baby is raised as non-human, then the secrecy laws won’t apply. Okay, I said, heart in my throat. Alright. I once considered it to be the moment I fell in love with him. ‘Favilla?’ Canus asks. I blink. There’s
