I didn’t know for sure which room I was in. The Moroi actually kept a bona fide throne room for their king or queen, but I didn’t think this was it. This room was still heavily decorated, conveying an old-world royal feel, with painstakingly carved floral molding and shining gold candleholders on the walls. There were actually lit candles in them too. Their light reflected off the metallic decorations in the room. Everything glittered, and I felt like I’d stumbled into a stage production.
And really, I might as well have. Because after a moment’s surveying, I realized where I was. The people in the room were split. Twelve of them sat at a long table on a dais at what was clearly meant to be the focal point of the room. Tatiana herself sat at the middle of the table, with six Moroi on one side and five Moroi on the other. The other side of the room was simply set with rows of chairs—still elaborate and padded with satin cushions—which were also filled with Moroi. The audience.
The people sitting on either side of Tatiana were the tip-off. They were older Moroi, but ones who carried a regal air. Eleven Moroi for the eleven acting royal families. Lissa was not eighteen—though she was about to be, I realized with a start—and therefore had no spot yet. Someone was sitting in for Priscilla Voda. I was looking at the Council, the princes and princesses of the Moroi world. The oldest member of each family claimed the royal title and an advisory spot beside Tatiana. Sometimes the eldest waived the spot and gave it to someone the family felt was more capable, but the selectee was almost always at least forty-five. The Council elected the Moroi king or queen, a position held until death or retirement. In rare circumstances, with enough backing from the royal families, a monarch could be forcibly removed from office.
Each prince or princess on the Council was in turn advised by a family council, and glancing back at the audience, I recognized clusters of family members sitting together: Ivashkovs, Lazars, Badicas . . . The very back rows appeared to be observers. Tasha and Adrian sat together, and I knew for a fact they weren’t members of the Royal Council or family councils. Still, seeing them set me at ease a little.
I remained near the entrance to the room, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, wondering what was in store. I hadn’t just earned public humiliation; I’d apparently earned it in front of the most important Moroi in the world. Wonderful.
A gangly Moroi with patchy white hair stepped forward, around the side of the long table, and cleared his throat. Immediately, the hum of conversation died. Silence filled the room.
“This session of the Moroi Royal Council is now in order,” he declared. “Her Royal Majesty, Tatiana Marina Ivashkov, is presiding.” He gave a slight bow in her direction and then discretely backed off to the side of the room, standing near some guardians who lined the walls like decorations themselves.
Tatiana always dressed up at the parties I saw her at, but for a formal event like this, she was really channeling the queen look. Her dress was long-sleeved navy silk, and a glittering crown of blue and white stones sat atop her elaborately braided hair. In a beauty pageant, I would have written such gems off as rhinestones. On her, I didn’t question for a moment that they were real sapphires and diamonds.
“Thank you,” she said. She was also using her royal voice, resonant and impressive, filling the room. “We will be continuing our conversation from yesterday.”
Wait . . . what? They’d been discussing me yesterday too? I noticed then that I’d wrapped my arms around myself in a sort of protective stance and immediately dropped them. I didn’t want to look weak, no matter what they had in store for me.
“Today we will be hearing testimony from a newly made guardian.” Tatiana’s sharp gaze fell on me. The whole room’s did. “Rosemarie Hathaway, will you please come forward?”
I did, keeping my head high and posture confident. I didn’t exactly know where to stand, so I picked the middle of the room, directly facing Tatiana. If I was going to be paraded in public, I wished someone would have tipped me off to wear guardian black and white. Whatever. I’d show no fear, even in jeans and a T-shirt. I gave a small, proper bow and then met her eyes directly, bracing for what was to come.
“Will you please state your name?” she asked.
She’d already done it for me, but I still said, “Rosemarie Hathaway.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen?”
“And how long have you been eighteen?”
“A few months.”
She waited a couple moments to let it sink in, as though this were important information. “Miss Hathaway, we understand that around that time, you withdrew from St. Vladimir’s Academy. Is this correct?”
That’s what this was about? Not the Vegas trip with Lissa?
“Yes.” I offered no more info. Oh God. I hoped she didn’t get into Dimitri. She shouldn’t have known about my relationship with him, but there was no telling what information could spread around here.
“You went to Russia to hunt Strigoi.”
“Yes.”
“As a type of personal revenge following the attack at St. Vladimir ’s?”
“Er . . . yes.”
No one said anything, but my response definitely caused a stir in the room. People shifted uneasily and glanced at their neighbors. Strigoi always inspired fear, and someone actively seeking them out was still an unusual concept among us. Oddly, Tatiana seemed very pleased by this confirmation. Was it going to be used as more ammunition against me?
“We would assume then,” she continued, “that you are one of those who believe in direct strikes against the Strigoi?”
“Yes.”
“Many had different reactions to the terrible attack at St. Vladimir’s,” she said. “You aren’t the only dhampir who wanted to strike back against the Strigoi—though you were certainly the youngest.”
I hadn’t known about others going on vigilante sprees—well, aside from some reckless dhampirs in Russia. If that was the story about my trip she was willing to believe, that was fine with me.
“We have reports from both guardians and Alchemists in Russia that you were successful.” This was the first time I’d heard the Alchemists mentioned in public, but of course they’d be a common topic among the Council. “Can you tell me how many you killed?”
“I . . .” I stared in surprise. “I’m not sure, Your Majesty. At least . . .” I racked my brain. “Seven.” It might have been more. She thought so too.
“That might be a modest estimate compared to what our sources say,” she noted grandly. “Nonetheless, still an impressive number. Did you perform the kills by yourself?”
“Sometimes I did. Sometimes I had help. There were . . . some other dhampirs I worked with once in a while.” Technically, I’d had Strigoi help as well, but I wasn’t going to mention that.
“They were close to your age?”
“Yes.”
Tatiana said no more, and as though receiving a cue, a woman beside her spoke up. I believed she was the Conta princess.
“When did you kill your first Strigoi?”
I frowned. “Last December.”
“And you were seventeen?”
“Yes.”
“Did you perform that kill yourself?”
“Well . . . mostly. A couple friends helped with distraction.” I hoped they weren’t going to push for more details. My first kill had occurred when Mason had died, and aside from the events surrounding Dimitri, that memory tormented me the most.
But Princess Conta didn’t want too many other details. She and the others—who soon joined in the questioning—mostly wanted to know about my kills. They were slightly interested in knowing when other dhampirs had helped me—but didn’t want to go into when I’d had Moroi help. They also glossed over my disciplinary record, which I found baffling. The rest of my academic details were mentioned—my exceptional combat grades, how I’d been one of the best when Lissa and I had run away our sophomore year and how quickly I’d made up for lost time to become top in my class again (at l
east as far as fighting went). They talked also about how I’d protected Lissa whenever we were out in the world alone and finally concluded with my exceptional trial scores.
“Thank you, Guardian Hathaway. You may leave.”
Tatiana’s dismissive voice left no room for doubt. She wanted me out of there. I was only too eager to comply, giving another bow, and then scurrying out. I cast a quick glance at Tasha and Adrian as I did, and the queen’s voice rang out as I cleared the door, “That concludes our session today. We will convene again tomorrow.”
I wasn’t surprised when Adrian caught up with me a few minutes later. Hans hadn’t ordered me to come back and work after the session, so I had decided to read that as freedom.
“Okay,” I said, slipping my hand into Adrian’s. “Enlighten me with your royal political wisdom. What was that all about?”
“No clue. I’m the last person to ask about political stuff,” he said. “I don’t even go to those things, but Tasha found me at the last minute and said to come with her. I guess she got a tip-off you’d be there—but she was just as confused.”
Neither of us had said anything, but I realized I was leading him toward one of the buildings that housed commerce—restaurants, shops, etc. I was starving all of a sudden.
“I got the impression this was part of something they’d already been talking about—she mentioned their last session.”
“It was closed. Like tomorrow’s. No one knows what they’re discussing.”
“Then why make this one public?” It didn’t seem fair that the queen and Council could pick and choose what they shared with others. Everything should have been public.
He frowned. “Probably because they’re going to hold a vote soon, and that’ll be public. If your testimony plays some role, then the Council may want to make sure other Moroi witnessed it—so that everyone understands the decision when it comes.” He paused. “But what do I know? I’m no politician.”
“Makes it sound like it’s already decided,” I grumbled. “Why have a vote at all? And why would I have anything to do with government?”
He opened the door to a small café that sold light lunch food—burgers and sandwiches. Adrian had been raised with fancy restaurants and gourmet food. I think he preferred that, but he also knew I didn’t like always being on display or being reminded that I was with a royal from an elite family. I appreciated that he’d known I’d just want something ordinary today.
Nonetheless, our being together earned us a few curious glances and whispers from the diner’s patrons. At the school, we’d been a source of speculation, but here at Court? We were a main-stage attraction. Images were important at Court, and most dhampir-Moroi relationships were carried out in secret. Us being so open—especially considering Adrian’s connections—was scandalous and shocking, and people weren’t always discreet with their reactions. I’d heard all sorts of things since returning to Court. One woman had called me shameless. Another had speculated aloud why Tatiana hadn’t simply “dealt with me.”
Fortunately, most of our audience was content to stare today, making them easy to ignore. There was a small line of thought on Adrian’s forehead as we sat down at a table. “Maybe they’re voting to make you Lissa’s guardian after all.”
I was so astonished that I couldn’t say anything for several seconds when the waitress suddenly appeared. I finally stammered out my order and then stared at Adrian with wide eyes.
“Seriously?” The session had been an examination of my skills, after all. It made sense. Except . . . “No. The Council wouldn’t go to the trouble of holding sessions for one guardian assignment.” My hopes fell.
Adrian gave a shrug of acknowledgment. “True. But this isn’t an ordinary guardian assignment. Lissa’s the last of her line. Everyone—including my aunt—has a special interest in her. Giving her someone like you who’s . . .” I gave him a dangerous look as he grasped for a word. “. . . Controversial could upset some people.”
“And that’s why they actually wanted me there to describe what I’ve done. To convince people in person that I’m competent.” Even as I spoke the words, I still didn’t dare believe them. It was too good to be true. “I just can’t imagine it, seeing as I seem to be in so much trouble with the guardians.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just a guess. Who knows? Maybe they do think the Las Vegas thing was just a harmless prank.” There was a bitter tone in his voice over that. “And I told you that Aunt Tatiana was coming around to you. Maybe she wants you as Lissa’s guardian now but needs to make a public display to justify it.”
That was a startling thought. “But if I do get to come with Lissa, what are you going to do? Get respectable and come to college too?”
“I don’t know,” he said, green eyes thoughtful as he sipped his drink. “Maybe I will.”
That was also unexpected, and my conversation with his mother returned to my mind. What if I was Lissa’s guardian in college and he was with us for the next four years? I was fairly certain Daniella had thought we’d be splitting up this summer. I’d thought so too . . . and was surprised to feel how relieved I was that I might get to stay with him. Dimitri always left my heart full of pain and longing, but I still wanted Adrian in my life.
I grinned at him and rested my hand on his. “I’m not sure what I’d do with you if you were respectable.”
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’ve got some suggestions,” he told me. I didn’t know if it was his words or the feel of his mouth on my skin that sent shivers through me. I was about to ask what those suggestions were when our interlude was interrupted . . . by Hans.
“Hathaway,” he said, one eyebrow arched as he stood over us. “You and I have some very different ideas about the definition of ‘punishment.’”
He had a point. In my mind, punishment involved easy things like lashings and starvation. Not filing.
Instead, I replied, “You didn’t tell me to come back after I saw the queen.”
He gave me an exasperated look. “I also didn’t tell you to go off on a playdate. Come on. Back to the vaults.”
“But I have a BLT coming!”
“You’ll get your lunch break in another couple hours like the rest of us.”
I tried to repress my outrage. They hadn’t been feeding me bread crusts and water during my work detail, but the food hadn’t tasted much better. Just then, the waitress returned with our food. I grabbed the sandwich before she even set the plates down and wrapped it in a napkin. “Can I take it to go?”
“If you can eat it before we get back.” His voice was skeptical, seeing as the vault was pretty close. Clearly, he was underestimating my ability to consume food.
In spite of Hans’s disapproving expression, I gave Adrian a kiss goodbye and a look that told him maybe we’d continue our conversation. He gave me a happy, knowing smile that I only saw for a second before Hans ordered me away. True to my expectations, I managed to get the sandwich down before we arrived back at the guardians’ building, though I did feel a little nauseous for the next half hour or so.
My lunchtime was almost dinnertime for Lissa, out in the human world. Returning to my miserable punishment, I cheered up a little at the joy running through her via our bond. She’d spent the whole day on her campus tour of Lehigh, and it was everything she’d hoped it could be. She loved it all. She loved the beautiful buildings, the grounds, the dorms . . . and especially the classes. A glimpse at the course catalog opened up a world of subjects that even St. Vladimir’s superior education hadn’t offered us. She wanted to see and do everything that the school had to offer.
And even though she wished I was there, she was still excited about the fact that it was her birthday. Priscilla had given her some elaborate jewelry and had promised a fancy dinner that night. It wasn’t exactly the type of celebration Lissa had hoped for, but the thrill of her eighteenth birthday was still intoxicating—particularly as she looked around at the dream school she’d be att
ending soon.
I confess, I felt a pang of jealousy. Despite Adrian’s theory about why the queen had called me in today, I knew—as did Lissa—that the odds of me going to college with her were still probably nonexistent. Some petty part of me couldn’t understand how Lissa could therefore be excited about it if I wasn’t going to be along. Childish of me, I know.
I didn’t have long to sulk, though, because once all the touring was done, Lissa’s entourage returned to the hotel. Priscilla told them they could clean up for an hour or so before heading to dinner. For Lissa, this meant more fighting-practice time. My brooding mood immediately turned irate.
Things got worse when I realized that earlier in the day, Serena had told Grant about Lissa and Christian’s desire to defend themselves. He apparently thought that it was a good idea too. It would figure. Lissa had two progressive guardians. Why couldn’t she have gotten some stodgy, old-school person who would be horrified at the thought of a Moroi even thinking about fighting off a Strigoi?
So, while I sat helpless and unable to smack sense into any of them, Lissa and Christian now had two instructors. Not only did this mean more learning opportunities, it also meant Serena had a competent partner to demonstrate certain moves with. She and Grant sparred, explaining maneuvers while Lissa and Christian watched wide-eyed.
Fortunately (well, not for Lissa), she and I soon noticed something. The guardians didn’t know the true reason Lissa was interested in fighting. They had no idea—how could they have?—that she wanted to go hunt and stake a Strigoi in the feeble hope of bringing him back to life. They thought she just wanted to learn basic defense, something that seemed very sensible to them. So that was what they taught.
Grant and Serena also made Lissa and Christian practice on each other. I suspected there were a couple reasons for this. One was that Lissa and Christian didn’t have the skill to do much damage to each other. The second reason was that it amused the guardians.
Vampire Academy: The Complete Collection: 1/6 Page 142
