Black Rook

by Ingrid Seymour

  She glanced up, her eyes falling to my lips. I trembled inside, feeling like a child. Why was she able to disarm me with one simple glance?

  “Thank you, Nyro,” she said very slowly, each syllable like a tender caress.

  I pulled her closer, our noses nearly touching as we stared into each other’s eyes. She felt fragile and too delicate in my arms, even though she wasn’t any of those things.

  “I’m looking for someone,” she said in a whisper that brushed my lips and made a thrill run down my body. Though it wasn’t only the feel of her breath that did it, it was also the words.

  I knew who she was looking for, someone she should have forgotten rather than risk it all to come here and find her.

  I shook my head. She narrowed her eyes in question. What did she hope to accomplish? Why risk herself this way for... for what? The answer came to me as soon as I formulated the question.

  She was here for someone she loved, the way I loved Timotei.

  If anyone could understand that, it was me.

  My thoughts reeled. I tried to think of the right words to warn her, to tell her I’d seen Talyssa, her lady-help, but nothing seemed right, not here. Maybe if we went outside, away from this crowd.

  I was about to ask her if she’d like to go for walk in the garden when the mood in the room changed, like ice spreading over water, like a frigid wind seeping into your bones.

  King Maximus had just walked into the room, a beautiful blond girl on his arm.

  CHAPTER 10

  As if blasted by the frigid presence of the Vampire King, Bianca froze in my arms, drinking in the tableau of Talyssa walking next to Maximus, a delicate white hand resting lightly on the King’s arm.

  She wore a navy gown that complemented her creamy skin. Her blond hair sparkled, a diadem placed over her artfully-arranged curls. She wore no mask, same as the King, and walked with her head held high.

  Maximus was dressed all in black, including his shirt, the kerchief in his pocket, and the cravat around his neck.

  The music continued, but the dancing couples came to a stop and parted a path for the King and his companion. As Maximus made his way to the end of the hall where a throne I hadn’t noticed earlier sat on a dais, he smiled and nodded at his guests as if he were some gentle lord and not a monster.

  Anger as fresh as that I’d felt eight weeks ago washed over me, causing me to tremble. The urge to lunge forward and pound the King’s head into the inlaid floor assaulted me, and only Bianca’s hand tightening around mine stopped me from making a big mistake.

  We had drifted out of the way, herded by the parting crowd.

  I glanced down at Bianca. Her full attention was on Talyssa. She seemed hypnotized, her mouth stiff, her eyes locked. Only her hand seemed alive as it squeezed mine, her fingernails digging into my skin. I clenched my teeth, tugged gently, trying to awaken her from her stupor. But she didn’t and remained as transfixed as before.

  Only gods knew what was going through her mind at the sight of her lady-help hanging from the King’s arm.

  To all appearances, Talyssa seemed content. A small smile touched her lips as she walked, chin up, beautiful figure resplendent in her dress. Her blue gaze was steady. What did she feel? I had no idea.

  A trembling breath escaped through Bianca’s lips as life seemed to crawl back into her. She let go of my hand. Her breasts rose up and down, betraying her agitation. I tried to take her hand again, but she stepped forward, all that she was focused on Talyssa.

  The King reached the dais, climbed the steps, then turned to face the crowd. He greeted us, his expression all glamour and manners, a well-honed lie by a practiced monster. The guests beamed up at him, the ladies curtsying and blushing, transfixed by the vampire’s charm, while Talyssa stood next to him, ignored—a harmless piece on his endless game. Even the men seemed hypnotized by him, something like hunger or jealousy clouding their eyes. How could they be so blind?

  King Maximus turned slightly toward Talyssa and introduced her. She curtsied.

  “So lovely.”

  “Such beautiful, golden hair.”

  “Oh, she shines like a star.”

  The crowd seemed in awe of her, taken by her beauty, but most of all, envious of her place next to the King.

  A knot formed in my throat. It was rage and incredulity combined, hatred toward the frivolous nobles who cared only for appearances, for the King’s favor to help increase their riches, for the possibility of tasting his blood to become strong, faster, more vital, long-lived.

  The music picked up again as the King sat on his throne, while Talyssa retreated to stand a few steps behind him. Poor creature. She cared for Timotei. She’d helped him when I tried to rescue him, had even attacked Ungur when he tried to hold my brother back. Had she paid for that? Had the King punished her?

  Couples took to the dance floor once more, moving more exuberantly than before, repeatedly glancing toward the King to see if he noticed them.

  Next to me, Bianca’s body seemed to quake. Her jaw was set, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She drew blood, one single drop that beaded up into a perfect red pearl.

  On the dais, the King’s head jerked, his attention drawn immediately to Bianca. She should have cowered, should have glanced down to avoid provoking his scrutiny. Instead, she held his gaze and, shaking with rage, took a step toward him.

  CHAPTER 11

  Smoothly, I stepped in front of Bianca.

  “Another dance?” I asked. “I’d like to converse with you a little more, get to know you.” I used my most seductive voice, one that implied I had but one thing in mind, even if I’d just met her. I couldn’t let King Maximus see that I felt anything more than lust for a female—a beautiful stranger I would be more than glad to ravish, not someone I knew, someone who captured my interest deeply and truly.

  As I stood in front of her, my back to the King, I placed a finger under her chin and forced her eyes to meet mine.

  “Calm down,” I mouthed, gripping her left hand and squeezing.

  I pulled her close, roughly, and spun her in a circle, dancing as exuberantly as the other couples, slowly guiding her toward the door. She fought me, her body stiff, her attention going back to the King and her friend every time I twirled her in a different direction.

  As I circled, I allowed myself one glance toward Maximus. His gaze was luckily not on Bianca, but on me. He gave me a complicit smile as if he approved of my less-than-proper behavior toward a lady.

  Still holding her close by the waist, I released Bianca’s hand and thumbed her lower lip, wiping away the blood. This daring move finally brought her gaze to mine. I nodded slightly and held up my thumb for her to see. She blinked in surprise. Her tongue darted out, licking at the small wound. My insides tightened at the moisture she left behind. I inhaled sharply and twirled her once more, tearing my gaze from her sensuous mouth.

  When we made it to the door, I pulled her out of the ballroom, my arm firm around her back. I resisted the urge to look back once more and see if the King’s interest was still on us.

  Bianca walked with stuttering steps as she resisted my pull, but I managed to guide her to a closed door I hadn’t noticed when I first passed through here. The knob turned as I twisted it.

  Making sure the room was empty, I bullied her inside, feeling terrible about treating her this way, though, for all intents and purposes, I was saving her life. I shut the door behind us and pressed her against the wall, caging her in with my body.

  “Please,” I pleaded in her ear, not daring to say anything else for fear the King could hear through walls.

  She fought me, but only weakly. Tearing away the mask, she threw it to the floor and wiped tears from her eyes. All over again, I was taken by the beauty of her features: her small nose, high cheekbones, and perfect eyebrows. My hands ached to caress her face, but I kept them at my sides.

  Her chest heaved, trapping errant sobs, keeping them hidden from anyone’s enhanced hearing. I nodde
d, letting her know she was doing the right thing, waiting for her to rein in the jumble of emotions that must be wreaking havoc inside her. I could only imagine the courage it took for her to come here. Bloodshade or not, the Black and White Courts were no place for a Trove.

  When she finally got her emotions under control, I slowly pulled away. It wasn’t easy. I wanted to stay close to her. In fact, I wanted to—

  I shook my head, pressed a finger to my lips, even though it was clear she knew to keep quiet.

  Removing my own mask, I turned and glanced around more carefully. We were in a drawing room from the looks of it. Several fully-lit, four-arm candelabra stood in the corners, casting a warm light on the gilded sofas and chairs, marble-top tables, and the large fireplace in the back wall.

  A portrait painted in dark hues sat atop the mantel, its surface reflecting the light. I stared at it, wondering who it could be.

  “King Brun,” Bianca said behind me as if she’d read the question from my mind. “I saw a similar portrait at the museum once.” Her voice shook a little, but she managed to cage in the bulk of her emotions.

  I glanced down at her, then back at the portrait. So this was King Maximus’s predecessor—the vampire he had killed in order to get the black throne.

  Like those paintings I’d seen in the foyer earlier, the man in this one appeared human. He cut an impressive figure and appeared tall and broad, far stronger than Maximus did. I scrutinized him longer than I should have, until a certain edge appeared on his face, something cold and wicked that reminded me of the Black King himself.

  The sound of Bianca’s steps behind me broke me out of the trance. I turned. She stopped in front of a small table, looking down at a wine bottle and glasses set atop it. I imagined that at some point when the night grew older and the guests grew tired of dancing, they would file in here to lounge and taste the wine.

  Bianca’s attention shifted, her head swiveling toward a door in the far corner. She glanced back at me, then headed for the door. She was here to spy too, it seemed. I picked up her mask from the floor and followed her lead.

  Very slowly, she opened the door to a long, dimly lit hall. We left the drawing room and closed the door behind us. Dozens of doors lay close at either side. I moved toward the first one and tried to turn the knob. It didn’t move. Sounds came from within, giggles and bedroom voices. Bianca and I exchanged a glance. Her cheeks turned red. Her bosom rose and fell, and I couldn’t help but notice.

  I turned, pushing away the instincts stirring inside of me, and tried the door across the hall. This one opened, revealing a bedroom lit by hundreds of candles, its bed topped with a white duvet and sprinkled with red petals.

  Come in, the room seemed to say.

  I slammed the door shut and avoided glancing in Bianca’s direction, shoving away the sudden desire to push her onto the bed and rip her dress off. My own lust surprised me. No one had ever had this effect on me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  We marched deeper into the hall, passing closed doors, not daring to open them. They all seemed the same and likely were.

  Timotei’s room had been on the first floor before, but he’d been moved. Rook Sanda had made sure to inform me shortly after I became Fourth Pawn. “The King dares you to try to find your brother again,” the Rook had told me, a glint of cruel joy in his eyes.

  Where could he be now?

  Impotence filled my chest, making me feel like raging, like tearing all the candles off the wall and setting fire to this place, if only I’d be able to find my brother before everything burned down.

  Bianca was looking up at me, I suddenly realized. There was a question in her eyes and, for the first time, I wondered why she was back here with me. I was a Black Pawn, and she belonged to the White Court. She was unaware of my reasons for being here and yet she trusted me when she should have been afraid.

  I took her hand, interlaced my fingers with hers. Together, we pressed forward. No words, only quiet glances, and slight nods.

  Two paths forked from the corridor when we reached its end. They were lined with windows that faced the backwoods. We’d traversed the width of the palace. We turned left, kept walking. I took mental notes, memorizing everything.

  I searched for stairs to go up or down to other levels. I saw none.

  They must be hidden, I realized.

  A place like this must have secret doors and passages, levers that made walls slide out of the way. But how could I find them? The palace was so big. It would take days, weeks or more if one didn’t know where to look.

  My frustration grew. I took a deep breath, let it out through clenched teeth.

  Bianca tugged at my arm, her beautiful face bathed in the moonlight shining through the windows. Her eyes wavered with sympathy as if she could read my frustration and understand what caused it.

  She took a step back, tentatively guiding me the way we’d come. I followed her, turning corners, passing landmarks we’d seen before. Like me, she’d memorized our path. As we went, she put her mask back on and tied it with a delicate knot as I watched her hands move dexterously. I replaced my mask as well.

  We made it back to the first drawing room. A few people were there now, drinking wine, laughing. They didn’t pay us any mind as we passed, likely assuming we’d been using one of the many bedrooms down the corridor.

  When we exited the room, Bianca got ahead of me, hurried to the stairs, and descended them on light feet, her entire body looking as if she wished to fly out of here, soar like a bird through the opened front doors.

  I followed, wishing we could fly away together, disappearing past all the walls that kept us imprisoned.

  CHAPTER 12

  Bianca didn’t slow until she reached the edge of the garden. There, she seemed to collapse onto a stone bench behind the safety of a tall hedge, the will that had kept her body erect seeming to drain out of her all at once.

  “Are you all right?” I whispered, sitting by her side, my hand an inch from her bare shoulder. Inside, I’d held her hand, but here, the idea of touching her felt different. I didn’t dare.

  She tore the mask from her face and turned to me, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “I can’t help her,” she said in a low tone matching my own.

  “I know.” I knew better than she could ever imagine.

  “Talyssa, my...” A sob caught in her throat.

  “Yes, I know. Your lady-help. ” I finished for her.

  She frowned, confused.

  “I remember her,” I explained, “from the market. She was with you the day you called the Sentries on me. I saw her shortly after I arrived here and recognized her.”

  “She... looked so lost,” Bianca said.

  Tentatively, I took her hand. She didn’t pull away, but her eyes were fixed on a faraway point, so I doubted she even noticed my touch.

  “What does he do to her?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Don’t torture yourself.” I had no right to tell her that—not when I spent my sleepless nights wondering the exact same thing about Timotei.

  “He took everything from me,” she said. “He killed Papa and stole Talyssa. Even my home and the inheritance my mother left me went to him.”

  So that was why she’d joined the White Court. She’d had no other choice. Like me. It seemed we weren’t so different, after all. King Maximus had destroyed both our lives.

  “He has my brother,” I said in a rush of breath. “He’s only eight years old, but he’s a Trove. That’s why I joined. I tried to rescue him, but I failed.”

  She pressed her free hand to her mouth. “Oh, Nyro.”

  I glanced away as the back of my eyes stung. The last time I’d shed a tear was when Mother died. I didn’t want Bianca to see me cry. She had her own woes, and I had no business burdening her with mine.

  “Talyssa looks after him,” I said, forcing myself to look back at her, a weak smile on my lips.

  “She does?”

  I nodded. />
  Bianca sniffled, then a smile graced her lips. “That sounds like her. I feel sorry for your brother. She can be quite bossy.”

  I chuckled, glancing down at our interlaced fingers. Her hand was so small in mine. Yet, it felt strong, capable. I moved my thumb in a gentle caress but didn’t dare look back into her eyes.

  “Maybe...” she started tentatively. “Maybe we can help each other.”

  I met her gaze then. I doubted there was anything we could do for each other. She was with the White Queen, unable to come here unless one of these balls was taking place, and she wore a disguise. And what could I do? I’d failed at rescuing one small boy already. I couldn’t add Talyssa to the list and make it harder on myself. I’d only be adding to the list of people I would disappoint.

  “How?” I asked, the bitter word crossing my lips before I could stop it.

  “I... I don’t know.” Disappointment washed over her. She pulled away and hugged herself as a chilled breeze blew through the garden.

  Standing, I took off my jacket and reached over to drape it over her shoulders. She sighed as my warmth enveloped her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  I sat back down. “We shouldn’t talk here. We could try to think of something, but somewhere else.”

  A little hope returned to her expression. “You’re right. Maybe... we could meet. On our free day. One is coming up.”

  “Yes.” I nodded, my heart swelling with anticipation already. I would see her again.

  We shared a smile. Quiet fell over us as we stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Bianca...” I whispered her name.

  She stood abruptly, letting my jacket slide off her shoulders and handing it back. “I should go.”

  I rose to my feet and offered back the jacket. “Keep it. It’s cold and you...” I let my gaze wander over her bare shoulders.

  “I can’t,” she said. “You’re the enemy. Remember?”

  “You can throw it in the garbage when you get near the White Place. I don’t want you to be cold.”