Vampire Kingdom 1: The Trade

by Leigh Walker

  “Well, if you won’t answer that, can you at least explain why the gown is necessary? I just saw a goat on a leash out there.” I pointed out the window. “A ball gown seems out of place.”

  “It’s for the Trade,” Mistress Olivia explained. “All the girls wear them for the ceremony.”

  “Well, what’s this ceremony all about? Anthony won’t tell me a thing!”

  She harrumphed again, took the kettle down, and poured the water into a big white bowl. “That’s because he’s a boy and he would rather eat and fight than explain such mundane things as details. He doesn’t want to be responsible.”

  Anthony responded by shoving another cookie into his mouth.

  She motioned for me. “Come and sit. I’ll tell you what I can. First, the Trade. The ceremony is held every spring. It’s sponsored by the royal family.”

  I winced as she picked her way through a snarl in my hair. It smelled from the pond, a dank odor, like it might have moldy leaves hidden in it.

  “Every ceremony is the same,” she continued. “Young women who are of age are brought in from all the villages. They’re all volunteers, proud to represent their families. Dressed in their gowns, they’re assembled in the town square to be honored. The villagers gather to celebrate them. Then the royals come out and give a speech and make offerings. It’s all very uplifting. The candidates are inspected, and the royals might ask them a question or two. Then the royals must decide. It used to be the king’s job, but now that he’s of age, Prince Dominic will choose one of the maidens to take as a sacrifice.”

  I turned to gape at her as she combed my hair.

  “In exchange,” she continued, “the citizens are given livestock and enough grain and seed for crops to last until the next Trade.”

  I kept gaping.

  Mistress Olivia looked at bit worried as she eyed me. “Yes, love? D’you have a question?

  “I’m sorry.” I swallowed hard. “But did you say…sacrifice?”

  7

  An Unexpected Development

  Mistress Olivia sighed. “Yes, I did.”

  Anthony chuckled, and I glared at him. Olivia finished combing and had me lean back in the chair. She poured warm water over my hair, which would have been pure heaven if I weren’t too busy being terrified by her words.

  “We’ve come to value the tradition over the years,” she said. “No one suffers. It’s considered a great honor to be chosen.”

  I blinked up at her as she worked shampoo through my hair. “An honor to die?”

  “The chosen one doesn’t die, not in the literal sense.” Olivia pursed her lips. “She goes to live with the royals inside the castle walls. She will never return to her family, and they are forbidden from seeing her again. She sacrifices her old life. The villagers celebrate it as a gift, a rebirth.”

  I frowned, remembering the prince’s words. Remember to say yes. “But what happens to her after the ceremony? Inside the castle?”

  “Well…” Olivia combed something thick and creamy through my hair. “We don’t really know.”

  Anthony watched us carefully while Olivia rinsed me.

  “How can you not know?” The question came out sounding a bit hysterical.

  She quickly wrapped a towel around my hair and helped me up. “We never see the sacrifices again. So we can’t ask them, can we?”

  “And what do the royals say about it?”

  They shot each other a look.

  “You’ll hear it for yourself at the ceremony,” Olivia said.

  “Is he going to ask me to be the sacrifice?” I turned to Anthony. “The prince? He told me to say yes.”

  He nodded. “He needs to get you inside the castle.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you that when he asks you, you have the right to say no. All the young women do. You have a choice.” Anthony raised his eyes to meet mine. “Just like you had a choice about whether to come to the kingdom at all.”

  “And what do you know about it, huh? You haven’t told me a thing!” His refusal to elaborate on anything, coupled with how elusive they were being about the ceremony, had me more than on edge.

  Anthony shrugged. It was maddening.

  “I’m done with games,” I said as I started towel-drying my hair in earnest. “I’m ready to make a run for it, straight back to the lake.”

  “It’s not my place to answer your questions,” he objected. “Come to the ceremony and see for yourself—it’s why you’re here. If you don’t accept the prince, some other poor girl’s going to have to go in your place.”

  “You said that before. But you also said being chosen as the sacrifice was an honor—which is it?”

  “It is an honor.” Anthony’s brow furrowed. “But you have a distinct advantage over the others.”

  I gaped at him. “What does that mean?”

  “You’ve got a better chance at…adjusting to life inside the castle.”

  I stood up. “Tell me why right now, or I’m going to leave.”

  Anthony sighed. “Because the royals won’t touch you. They can’t.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Mistress Olivia patted my hand. “You’re special, dear. Don’t you remember?”

  I wrenched my hand away from her. “No, I don’t remember—I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” I bolted for the door, wet hair and bathrobe be damned.

  Anthony beat me to it, blocking my exit with his large frame. “Not so fast. You’ll want to see this through.”

  “You people are crazy.” It was as if the spell the handsome boy, the supposed prince, and that insane letter had cast on me were broken. “I don’t know why you’re talking about me being special, or trying to put me into that prom dress, or thinking there’s any way in hell I’m going to sacrifice myself to go live in some creepy castle for the rest of my life. Thanks, but no, thanks! I’m out of here.” I dodged around Anthony, but again, he was quicker, jamming his substantial foot against the door so I couldn’t open it.

  “You know when I said you had a choice?” He smiled at me, but it was not a nice smile. “I was being polite. Now go and get your hair done and put on your pretty dress. We need to make it to the square in time. That’s an order.”

  “I don’t take orders from anyone!” I tried to get past Anthony again, but he hissed and stepped forward. Gone was the jovial boy from the beach, replaced by a menace. His large shoulders were suddenly imposing, his big hands dangerous, curled into fists. He came toward me, his teeth bared.

  Two large fangs protruded from his mouth.

  I stumbled backward. “What the—”

  “I don’t like intimidating you like this, but you’re being so bloody difficult.” He stalked closer, fangs glinting, a low growl emanating from deep in his chest.

  I shrieked and looked at Olivia, but she was just watching us, arms crossed against her chest, as if what was happening were nothing more than a nuisance.

  “He’s a vampire!” I screamed.

  “Keep your voice down, my lady. We don’t use that word here. It isn’t safe.” Olivia shook her head. “Now come and let me do your hair. I think Anthony’s made his position about you leaving clear.” She motioned for me to come closer.

  I pointed at the redheaded beast, who was still glowering at me, his big body ready to pounce. “This is… I can’t…” My voice shook. I’d seen enough horror movies to know what happened next.

  “There, there. Be a good girl, won’t you? He won’t hurt you. We don’t want any trouble.” Olivia looked pointedly at Anthony, but he still glared at me. His fangs were still out, and his eyes blazed wildly, as if he had an insanely high fever.

  My whole body quaked as I scuttled toward her then lowered myself into the wooden chair. I struggled to catch my breath as my windpipe started to close. Oh, for the love of God, this is not a good time to lose it! I couldn’t have a panic attack right then—if I did, I would be completely vulnerable. Anthony could acc
ost me, drink my blood, or do whatever other crazy things redheaded vampires did. “Don’t hurt me,” I begged, close to tears.

  He took a step closer. His green eyes were so bright, they almost looked phosphorescent. “Then stop being difficult.”

  I nodded, my head jittering crazily atop my neck. Ugh, don’t think about your neck! Instead of crying or calling for help, I closed my eyes, shutting him out, and focused on getting my breathing under control.

  “There, there. That’s a good girl. No one’s going to hurt you. I promise.” Olivia’s voice was soothing, as if she were talking to a small child. She smoothed some cream onto my face and started applying makeup. “I’ll make sure that you look lovely. You don’t have to be afraid—Anthony just gets his hackles up sometimes is all. It’s his nature. It’s very important that we get you to the ceremony on time. We mustn’t disappoint the prince.”

  When I squinted one eye open, I found Anthony back to normal. His fangs were gone, as if they’d never been there, and his eyes had resumed their normal coloring. He scowled at me. I didn’t dare scowl back.

  I closed my eyes again and let Olivia get to work. Perhaps I’d imagined it. Perhaps I’d gone crazy, or maybe I’d gone down into that water and never come back out. Or maybe I was lying in a coma back home, and my brain was hallucinating the situation to pass the time.

  But no matter what it was—my imagination gone wild, madness, a nightmare—I made a promise to myself.

  I would find a way out. I would find a way out of here.

  8

  The Trade

  “Aw, that’s lovely, isn’t it?” Olivia clapped her hands as we stared at my reflection in the mirror.

  I nodded, forcing a smile. Smiling seemed quite ridiculous when a vampire was in the room. “Yes, thank you.” My hair, finally dry, bounced in shiny waves over my shoulders. The red dress and ballet flats Olivia had given me both fit perfectly, another fact I couldn’t wrap my brain around. The gown was stunning, its strapless bodice intricately constructed. Tiny gems lined the fabric, making the crimson gown sparkle. The skirt was tulle, full and buoyant, fit for a princess.

  Yet there I was, wearing it in order to parade down the street to be sacrificed. It was my turn as the goat on the leash, led to the slaughter. Anthony hadn’t spoken another word, but I’d pieced it all together as calmly as I could. Olivia had called the candidates “sacrifices.” Anthony had shown me his fangs, and the prince had asked me to say yes. I knew all too well what the Trade was about. My life—what remained of it—was worth several sacks of grain and possibly some goats for breeding. Why did I listen to that letter?

  “His Highness is waiting for you.” Anthony offered me his arm.

  I arched an eyebrow. “I am not touching you.”

  “Suit yourself.” He sighed. “Think you’re too good for our kind, do you?”

  “It’s not that. It’s that I don’t want you to bite me.” I had the strong urge to smack Anthony or perhaps pinch his ear, but of course I didn’t dare. “Is that sentiment allowed, or does it hurt your feelings too much?”

  He gave me a baleful look. “It does pain me that you think I have so little self-restraint. I have never hurt you. Have I, my lady?”

  I hesitated then shook my head. We’d been alone together for hours, walking to the castle. He’d had every opportunity to do whatever vampires did. I shuddered.

  “Even in the forest, when the guards were close—I only kept you safe,” he reminded me. “I could’ve shown you my fangs then, but I didn’t. I don’t flash them lightly. But I can’t have you escaping and running amok.”

  I looked toward the door, remembering the path we’d taken through the village to get to Mistress Olivia’s. I wanted to retrace my steps and make a run for it, but I likely wouldn’t get far. “What happens now?”

  “We’ll go to the ceremony, and you’ll join the other girls. The royal family will come out and make their announcements. Then he’ll ask you.” Anthony smiled, no sign of a fang in sight.

  “When you said before that I had a choice”—I lifted my chin—“was it the truth?”

  “You always have a choice.” He bowed. “But you must remember that some of them are better than others.”

  I smoothed my dress with my sweaty palms. “What happens if I say no?”

  “You won’t. He’s very difficult to say no to, my lady.”

  Anthony offered me his arm again. Unwilling to upset him further, I reluctantly took it.

  “Miss Victoria.” Mistress Olivia bowed. “It’s always a pleasure.”

  “T-Thank you.” I inspected Anthony as he led me outside. In the sunlight, he looked normal enough, his freckles making him seem harmless, though he was anything but. “Why do you both act like you’ve met me before?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not my story to tell.”

  “Fine.” I sighed as we walked through the village. “If you won’t answer that, how about this… Have you always been a vampire? Are there others?” I wanted to ask about the prince, but I didn’t dare.

  “Not another word,” he whispered urgently, his eyes darting around. “Not out here—we already told you—it’s not safe.”

  I looked around, too, but no one was near. What is he so worried about? Don’t the villagers know what he is? They were the ones sacrificing themselves, after all…

  Anthony urged me forward, interrupting my reverie. “When we get to the celebration, you must go and join the other girls on the platform. If one of the guards asks you what village you come from, tell him Margate. If anyone asks you who brought you here, say you volunteered and came with one of the convoys. Otherwise, speak to no one. And don’t say another bloody word about anything else.”

  My heart thrummed as we made it to the square, which was empty. I could hear a crowd up ahead, with music and people cheering. Anthony increased his pace, and I struggled to keep up with his long strides. The street cut through what looked like tenement buildings; I picked up the hem of my skirt so it wouldn’t drag on the muddy walkway.

  We passed through the neighborhood and finally reached the crowd, which was gathered in another large square. Hundreds of people stood waiting, dressed in their colorful robes. Canopy tents lined the outskirts of the gathering, where people traded trinkets and sold food. Delicious smells of meat and stews wafting from pots cooking over fires. Musicians played a merry tune. “It’s a celebration,” I whispered.

  Anthony gave me a quick look. “Of course it is. It’s considered an honor to be chosen as the sacrifice. One life for the lives of many—that’s the way they look at it.”

  A stage stood at the opposite end of the square. Twenty or so young women, all roughly my age, were assembled on the platform. The crowd stared up at them worshipfully, and some of the audience clapped and cheered.

  He led me closer, down the side of the onlookers and up toward the stage. The girls looked beautiful, dressed in ball gowns, curls and braids carefully arranged in their hair. Although a couple of them were clearly fidgeting, the rest of the candidates looked poised, enjoying the attention of the crowd, savoring their moment in the spotlight.

  “Haven’t these girls heard of The Hunger Games before?” I leaned closer to Anthony. “Or like…Dracula?”

  Confused, he scrunched his face. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.” I took a deep breath as we neared the platform’s stairs.

  “Here we are.” Anthony nodded toward the stage. “Go on.”

  “I’m just supposed to walk up there?” I peered at the other girls, my nerves mounting. “Don’t I have to register?”

  He looked confused again. “It’s a bit more relaxed than that. You just need to be in the right age range and wearing a proper dress. Everyone who wants to volunteer is welcome.”

  I bet. “Don’t I need proof of citizenship or something?” I looked around nervously, hoping I’d missed a rigorous checkpoint with an official who would immediately recognize that I was a foreigner with no business
being up on that platform.

  Anthony scoffed. “Stop stalling. The prince knows exactly where you’re from, and that’s all that matters. Now get up there.”

  I released his arm and mumbled, “Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck—you need to behave. Remember what the prince said. Say yes.” He gave me a crooked smile, still no sign of his fangs.

  Despite my heart pounding in my temples, I held my head high as I climbed the stairs to the platform. The villagers stared. I saw one woman nudge her neighbor, and they both gaped up at me. My red dress stood out amongst the other girls’ gowns, which had more subdued tones, mostly dark greens and blues. I wedged myself next to the very tall, pretty girl on the end, and she arched an eyebrow at me.

  “The stage is already full.”

  “There’s enough room for me, especially if you move over a little.” I pointedly looked at the empty space next to her.

  She tossed her curly toffee-colored hair as she reluctantly moved over a few inches. “Don’t crowd—I need the prince to see all of me.”

  I looked up at her. She towered over me in her high heels. “You’re six-foot-two. He’ll see you.”

  “And I’m sure he’ll see you.” Her gaze raked over my gown, making me self-conscious. “You’re making quite a statement in that dress, aren’t you?”

  I looked down. “I didn’t choose it.”

  “Humph.” She tossed her curls over her shoulder again. “His Highness doesn’t like showiness. He prefers a subtler aesthetic, like his mother’s. She’s a real lady. Real ladies don’t need to shout, in voice or in style.” She smoothed the fabric of her navy dress, the expression on her face quite superior.

  “Um, that’s great and all.” I leaned closer to her. “But can I ask, why do you want to be picked? Aren’t you…” Afraid? I caught Anthony staring up at me from the crowd, but I ignored him.