Vampire Royals 1: The Pageant

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Vampire Royals 1: The Pageant Page 4

by Leigh Walker


  What happens when a vampire drinks your blood?

  I had no desire to find out. I just hoped there was a chance my friend had survived.

  So it was true. The royal family were vampires. The winner of this contest would marry a vampire.

  WTF?

  “Ladies,” the general said, “follow me.”

  I shivered as we followed him, lambs to the slaughter. We turned a corner and entered what looked like a large, fancy parlor. “Sit down.” The general motioned to the chairs and couches dotted throughout the room. He paced back and forth in front of a roaring fire. I barely noticed the details of the luxurious rugs, tapestries, and furniture surrounding me as I sank down into a chair, its back to the wall.

  I didn’t want anyone to sneak up on me.

  “I’m sorry you all had to witness that.” The kindly version of the general was back, his face lit with sympathy. “But the royal family will not tolerate disrespect in their own home. And they shouldn’t have to.”

  I’d never seen so many girls so silent. No one seemed to breathe.

  “I told the young lady earlier that the rules are to be obeyed. Let Eve from Settlement Four be a lesson to you all. You will speak when spoken to, and you will always be polite to the royal family and the entire staff. Any insurrection will not be tolerated. Is that understood?”

  Everyone, myself included, murmured their assent.

  “Good. The royal emissary will be here in a moment to explain more about the Pageant. The training begins promptly tomorrow morning, and the competition itself begins next week. For now, I want to leave you with a few simple rules. First of all, not a word of what just happened is allowed outside of the palace. If anyone is caught disseminating this information, it will be considered high treason. The guilty party will be sentenced to death.”

  We gaped at him and at each other. I put a hand over my rioting heart, willing it to calm down.

  He paced some more while he continued. “Now, on to the more mundane details. You are to attend every class and training that is scheduled. There are no exceptions. If you are too ill to attend a session, your maids must notify the royal emissary, and you will be screened by the palace physician. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will all be served in the common room, located off the kitchen. You must be present at all meals. You will return to your room each night before the sun sets, and you will not leave until the following morning when the sun has risen. Does everyone understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “During the day, when you aren’t at lessons, you are allowed outside in the gardens and on the grounds, as permitted by the royal emissary. Your personal guards must be notified of your whereabouts at all times. You are allowed to write home once per week, but please be advised that all correspondence to and from the palace is screened for security purposes. Any questions?”

  I had nothing but questions, but I kept my mouth firmly shut.

  The doors opened, and sentinels lined the entrance. A tall, lithe young man with slicked-back black hair strode in, dressed in a deep-purple ceremonial uniform, a cape trailing behind him. He stepped to the front of the room, dismissing the general with a nod.

  The general swept from the room. I was relieved to see him go.

  “Ladies. I trust you’ve had an eventful afternoon.” The man’s dark eyes sparkled in the firelight. Was he joking?

  “I’m Tariq, the royal emissary and the master of ceremonies for the Pageant. I was very involved with the selection of each contestant.” He cleared his throat, then smirked. “Obviously, my choices weren’t flawless.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “I know the general mentioned that discretion about this matter is of the utmost importance. No one is allowed to speak about what happened here this evening—not to your families, not the press, not to your best friend. Any violation of this order will result in your immediate dismissal from the contest, your arrest, and shortly thereafter, your execution.”

  One of the girls in the front row clutched her stomach. Tariq arched an eyebrow at her. “Get ahold of yourself, young lady. This is the big leagues. They require appropriate big-girl panties.”

  I briefly looked at the girl next to me to see if she was as appalled as I was, but she stared straight ahead, her fists clenched in her lap.

  Tariq stalked prettily at the front of the room and continued. “I have high hopes that you and the contestants from the western settlements, who’ll join us later, will all fare well. I will oversee every aspect of the contest, including your branding, grooming, and preparation.”

  He motioned to the sentinels, and they left the room, closing the door behind them. “And now, I’d like you all to relax. You’re safe here with me, and I can promise there won’t be another unscripted outburst like the one you just witnessed.”

  He walked closer, weaving in and out of our seats, pausing to examine each girl. He clucked his approval or tsked with distaste then moved on to the next one. When he got to me, he picked up a braid and eyed it. “Nicely done. And I approve of your traveling dress. Gwyneth, correct? Settlement Four?”

  “Yes. And thank you,” I said, trying to mind my manners. I smoothed my dress. “My mother picked out my dress.”

  Up close, I could see that his eyelashes fanned out and curved seductively and his lips were full and sensuous. His dark hair was combed back stylishly, and he smelled of cologne, foreign and expensive.

  In the dim light of the room, Tariq looked human. But was he?

  “No doubt. I remember your mother from your file. She’s a stunner.” He continued working his ways through the girls until he came back to the front of the room. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? In this session, you are allowed to speak freely and ask questions when I tell you. However, I don’t recommend ever maligning the royal family while you’re here at the palace. Your little friend back there is proof of what can happen. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right.” He put his hands on his hips. “Who has a question?”

  Everyone started shouting at once.

  “Did the queen kill her?”

  “Are they going to eat us?”

  “How am I supposed to focus on anything other than watching out for my neck?”

  “Was that real?”

  “Can I go home?”

  “Do we have roommates?”

  “Is it considered high treason if we talk about what happened amongst ourselves?”

  “How long does the contest last?”

  “What sort of clothes will we wear? Can we pick them out?”

  “Will I have my own stylist?”

  “Is there a gym somewhere?”

  Tariq, clearly taken aback by the onslaught, held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa. Silence!”

  Everyone stopped talking at once.

  Tariq ran a hand through his hair. “I’d forgotten what girls are like. The questions, the hormones. Now, collect yourselves, and raise your hands. I’ll call on you one at a time.”

  Almost all the girls immediately raised their hands, and he called on one near the front. She wore a pink sari, and her dark, wavy hair hung halfway down her back. “I’m not maligning the royal family, but I have to ask—was that real? Is the queen…” She let the question trail off, too afraid to speak the words aloud.

  Tariq nodded. He understood exactly where she was headed. “The queen, the entire royal family, and many of the sentinels here at the palace are different from ordinary humans. Where you and I are ordinary, they are…extraordinary, in the very literal sense of the word.”

  So the royal emissary was human, after all.

  The girl in the sari raised her hand again, and Tariq nodded at her. “And that means what, exactly?”

  “It means they have powers we don’t have, they have different needs, and they are stronger than us. Much stronger.”

  I raised my hand. “Is Eve still alive?”

  Tariq’s gaze met mine. “I don’t know. But don’
t ask about her again. The whole palace is in an uproar about what she said.” He turned and looked each of the other girls in the eyes. “The royal family is staging the Pageant to heal the rift between the monarchy and the settlements. They want to unite us all and bring the settlements into the future stronger. That’s why you’re here. It’s something for the settlers to get excited about—a princess of their own, a princess of the people. But hate speech and prejudice of any kind won’t be tolerated here, just like it’s not tolerated in the settlements. The Northerners conquered us, and they were generous enough to let us live. Now, the royal family’s generosity has extended to this contest, in the hopes that they can bring peace and prosperity to the settlements.”

  More girls anxiously raised their hands, but the door burst open. The prince strode through, flanked by two armed guards. “Tariq, I’m sorry to interrupt, but may I address the contestants?”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” Tariq swept into a deep bow. When he rose, he motioned for us to rise and imitate him. We all mimicked Tariq as he dipped into a curtsy.

  “Thank you.” The prince nodded. Tariq left the room quickly, his sentinels following closely behind.

  Prince Black turned toward us. If possible, his face had gotten even paler.

  “I’m so sorry for what my mother did.” His gaze sought out each of ours. “She’s—my mother, I mean—she’s very old school. She’s proud, and she has a lot of rigid ideas about respect and honor. In her time, no human would dare speak to a…queen…that way. The king and I have spoken to her, and she’s very sorry to have frightened you all. She understands what she did wasn’t, er, very welcoming.” His hands clenched at his sides. “I can assure you nothing like that will happen again during your time here. You have my word.”

  He nodded at us stiffly, clearly embarrassed. “Well, good night. Tariq will be back to see you to your rooms.” He left without another word, and Tariq came in immediately.

  Still shaking, I followed the royal emissary to my room.

  Chapter 7

  Turned

  My bedroom was fit for a princess. The ceilings soared. I could see the stars coming out in the darkening night sky through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Lush gold brocade drapes elegantly outlined the view.

  There was a full-length gilded mirror and an elegant chandelier. A fire was roaring in the fireplace, and the large four-poster bed looked luxurious and warm with its gold-and-black velvet comforter.

  But I couldn’t get excited about my new room. All I could think of was Eve and how the queen had ravaged her.

  I sank down onto my bed. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  There was a knock on the door, and I jumped. A pretty young woman in uniform opened the door. “We’re your staff,” she said in a friendly tone. “Can we come in and introduce ourselves?”

  “Of course.”

  I stood as three maids entered. The one who’d spoken was also the tallest, fair and blonde. She was followed by two younger maids who had to be identical twins. The twins had coffee-colored skin and almond-shaped eyes.

  The three of them curtsied before me.

  “I’m Gwyneth West, Settlement Four.” I smiled at them. “And you never need to curtsy to me again, although I appreciate the gesture.”

  “Yes, miss. I’m Evangeline, your head maid.” The tallest girl nodded. “This is Bria and Bettina, who are also in your service.”

  “Our pleasure, miss,” they said. They smiled so similarly that it spooked me.

  “For the record, I’m Bettina. I always wear a pink ribbon in my hair.” Bettina pulled her braid forward so I could see the marker.

  “And I’m Bria. I wear a blue ribbon.” Her sister showed me hers.

  “Forgive me if I confuse you at first. I’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

  “Yes, miss.” They spoke in unison, which was very unnerving.

  Evangeline stepped forward. “It’s our job to keep your room clean, help prepare you each morning for your lessons, and help you dress for special events.” Her eyes sparkled.

  “Special events?” Tariq hadn’t mentioned any special events. He’d been too busy trying to convince us we weren’t all going to die.

  “Yes, miss. For the balls and any special dates with the prince.”

  My stomach twisted at the thought of being alone with one of the royals. “Oh.”

  “Miss, if I may…?” Evangeline started.

  “Please speak freely.”

  She pointed to herself and to the twins. “We’re human too. And we’ve never had any trouble with the royal family. Isn’t that right, girls?”

  The twins nodded earnestly, and Evangeline continued. “There was one kitchen cook who had a problem with the royal family’s…er, heritage, and she said something nasty once, right in front of the king. He fired her on the spot and sent her packing. But he didn’t touch her. He wouldn’t do something like that. Neither would the prince. But the queen is different. She’s very old—you’d never know it by looking at her—and she’s very proper. I mean to say, she’s Northern proper. She’s still not used to our ways.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “So she occasionally eats rude humans?”

  “No, not at all, miss.” Evangeline shook her head vehemently. “She’s never hurt one of the staff, and there are several hundred of us here. But we’ve been through sensitivity training, and we know not to speak like…like that young lady did.”

  Sensitivity training so they don’t insult the vampires. Now I’ve heard everything.

  I dug my nails into my palms. “That young lady was my friend, and she was expressing her opinion. Not something she should’ve been killed for.”

  Evangeline’s eyes were wide. “No, miss. Of course not. And I’m so sorry about it. My point is that the queen had never heard words like that spoken under this roof. I don’t think she could control herself. Where she comes from, it was so disrespectful that she had to act to save her family’s honor.”

  I sank down onto the bed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  Evangeline came closer. “I was hoping it would, but I can see I’m only making things worse. My point is that I’ve been here for two years, and I’ve never seen anything like what happened tonight.”

  “They mostly leave us alone,” Bettina offered. “We work during daylight hours, and when the sun’s down, we go straight to our rooms unless there’s an event. But none of us have ever had any trouble that I know of.”

  “Does the queen have human maids?”

  Bria shook her head. “She brought her own maids from the North, which I think means she’s pretty self-aware.”

  I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “Well, that’s good, I guess. Do you know anything about their…feeding habits?” I’d begun wondering if they kept a supply of humans in the pantry.

  All three maids shook their heads. “They don’t eat human food. But they drink wine.”

  “But you keep a full kitchen staff?”

  They nodded. “They feed us very well. That’s why most of us took the jobs. Most of the staff came from Settlement Eight.” Settlement Eight was notoriously poor, with perpetual freezing weather and crops that refused to grow.

  “We came here out of desperation,” Evangeline admitted. “But they’ve treated us incredibly well. I swear it.”

  I nodded. Either these girls were brainwashed, or the royal family didn’t regularly dine on civilians.

  There was another knock on the door, and Evangeline furrowed her brow. “Yes? Who is it?”

  “The prince.”

  The girls looked at each other, shocked. “Yes, Your Highness! Just a minute!” They flew about the already immaculate room, fluffing pillows, straightening chairs, and stoking the fire. Bettina quickly fixed my hair and pinched my cheeks so they’d have color.

  “Ow!”

  She winked at me, then all three of them stood to the side as the prince swept in with two of his guards.

  I stood and curts
ied. “Your Highness.”

  He bowed, rising slowly, forcing me to confront his broad, handsome face and square jaw. The firelight bathed him in gold tones, making it look as if he was lit from within, a golden, smoldering god. “Miss West. I’ve come with news of your friend.”

  “Please.” I motioned for him to sit down, my heart thudding.

  He sank into the closest chair, looking too large for it. “I’m so sorry about what my mother did. She’s mortified, if it makes you feel any better.”

  “It doesn’t.” The sharp words were out of my mouth before I could retrieve them.

  He sighed, his face puckering into a frown. “I’m not surprised. Her actions were unforgivable.”

  He sounded sincere, but the last thing I was going to do was let my guard down. “You said you had news?”

  “Eve is in the medical ward.”

  “She’s alive?”

  He nodded, but his jaw was taut. He flexed his fingers then clenched his hands into fists.

  “Is she going to make it?”

  “She will…live. But she won’t be as she was before.”

  I shook my head, not understanding. “What does that mean?”

  “It means my mother drank too much of Eve’s blood. Your friend did not survive her human life.”

  I looked to my maids, but they stared straight ahead.

  “You said she would live—”

  “But not as a human,” the prince interrupted gently. “She won’t be the same.”

  I pulled at the collar of my dress. The room was suddenly stifling hot. “I don’t understand.”

  His dark gaze met mine. “She’s been turned.”

  His words did not compute. “Turned, like you turn a roast in the oven?”

  Evangeline looked at me funny but quickly turned away.

  The prince winced. “No. Turned as in turned into something else. Are you okay, Miss West? You look pale.”

  “Turned into what?” I hiss-whispered, even though I didn’t want to know the answer.

 

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