He blinked up at me as if I had made some sort of serious miscalculation. “Your life is worth everything.”
In that moment my heart shattered, every part of me wanted to hold him and let him fight but my better judgment won. There was nothing anyone could do. The Deabru king wanted my life in exchange for allowing his sister to kill herself. He had to know we couldn’t sustain another war. For a demon, the trade was almost…merciful.
I needed to hold my ground, find my composure and tie up my affairs. Clearing my throat I pushed myself to my feet, strode to the heap that used to resemble a desk and found a piece of parchment. I wanted to make sure everything would be taken care of whether I was around or not. If my Maxwell was this tortured, I feared what my blood slaves might do when they heard the news.
No other being could understand the unique connection a vampire had with the people that nourished them. We often pretending they meant little to us for appearance sake, but we were insanely protective of them. Even the idea of other vampires feeding on my slaves pricked me. But I wouldn’t let my feelings cost them the long life and good health that came with being owned.
I offered Max the parchment. “Maxwell, I need you to look after my slaves.” I could feel his eyes on me but I refused to look. If I did, I might break. “They will need to be placed with new owners. I need you to do this for me.” A lump formed in my throat.
“They will need new homes, good homes. I don’t want them anywhere near the southern border. I would prefer them to stay at court if at all possible, but if they must leave I want them as far from danger as possible.”
“I took the liberty of writing down my preferences for them and each one’s personal needs to better assist you.”
I mustered up every ounce of courage I had and looked into his eyes. “I need you to do this for me, Maxwell. Just this one last order.”
His eyes searched mine for any hint of my resolve crumbling, but he would find none. My mind had been made up, the decision was final.
Defeat blanketed his sweet features and his tear-filled eyes fell from mine as he nodded in compliance before slowly taking the note.
The mask I wore had grown far too heavy. Max’s pain was a mere fraction of my own. Biting back the urge to scream, I rushed from the room, the silk train of my dress fluttering behind me.
CHAPTER 21
I headed straight for the carriage. I didn't stop in the halls where Julian used to carry me on his shoulders. I didn't peek into the ballroom where we celebrated the end of the war and my slaves got so drunk I had to carry most of them to bed. And I most definitely didn't look over the balcony at the waterfall where Maxwell and I made love for the first time under the glowing light of a silver moon. The truth of the matter was I loved living and I didn't want to give it up. But there was something I loved more, my people, human and Sanguinese alike. I couldn't let my people die because I was too cowardly or selfish to do what was right.
When the twelve-foot high, golden embroidered doors were pulled open, I expected a lone carriage, packed with the few things I needed on my journey, ready to take me to my destination and a small escort. At first the light of the midday sun blinded me, but as my eyes adjusted I gasped. Filling the garden was every resident of the palace. Every man, woman and child had come to see me off, including my blood slaves. I could tell most had been crying, but as they stood there, they watched with their heads up and their chins high, just as I would wish.
My uncle, Lucius, stood closest to me. Though far older than Julian and I, he appeared around thirty in human years making him look more like my older brother than my uncle. In my brother's absence, he served as regent, a golden crown encircling the twisted locks of his blond hair, indicating his station. As I approached him, he knelt before me. A show of respect for my sacrifice. The rest of the court followed as I made my way past them to the ivory trimmed carriage. I wanted to say something to them, but what could I possibly say?
The footman opened the door and helped me in. I sat down and began to bundle the reams of fabric that made up my accursed dress. No one should be in a hurry to their own execution, but this was just too hard. I needed to get out of the palace before I broke down and made a spectacle of myself.
Once we were past the gates I thought there would be some reprieve, but it seemed as though news of my sacrifice had made it through the city and everyone my carriage passed stopped what they were doing and fell to their knees. Many cried, calling out my name and reaching for me as I rode on. When they got too close, a firm glare from one of my guards was usually enough for them to wilt away.
Things got quieter after we got past the bounds of the city. In the cool country air, I was left to my thoughts. And of course there was only one thing on my mind. How were they going to kill me? The Deabru enjoyed burning their enemies. That would be a particularly slow and gruesome death. I would be hard pressed not to scream as my body tried again and again to heal itself despite being immolated. Given my royal status maybe they would give me a quick beheading. That would be nice and dignified, well at least until after I was dead and my head rolled away. Though I figured the most likely scenario was being tossed from the highest point of the Deabru castle which resided at the top of a mountain. The fall would be long enough for me to get bored on the way down. Given that's how Zuriel's sister died, it would most likely be my fate. And probably one of the least painful, most dignified options I could think of.
I just hoped that whenever Julian came home he didn't blame himself for my death. I knew he would, but that was yet one more thing I had no power over. The only thing I could do was not struggle too much when they tossed me into the volcano.
The journey from the palace to the Deabru castle took a week by carriage. We stopped nightly at forts and keeps that peppered the long southern road, leaving behind the lush green lands of my kingdom to the barren rock of the Deabru. They made their homes high in the mountains, hidden by fog, they were nearly impossible to find until they descended down on innocent villages like starved beasts hunting for a meal. They may have had the faces of humans but their leathery wings and black eyes told their true nature. Something dark and evil. How my brother could have drunk from such a creature let alone fallen in love with her was beyond my understanding.
But that was the nature of men. They'd lay with a turnip if you carved it into an appealing shape.
And it was the duty of women to bear the brunt of men's poor choices. So as the clouds turned gray and everything I ever cared about was far, far behind me I steeled myself for what was ahead. I would die well, and do my people proud.
When the Deabru stronghold came into view my jaw dropped. Since women did not fight, I'd never been this far south and had only imagined what the castle might look like. I'd always pictured a Sanguinese fort dark and brooding, high up with no entrances by foot. Instead onyx-colored pillars pierced the sky, weaving in and out of clouds that flickered from shades of grey to purple in the fading sun light. Silver accents brought out the natural colors surrounding the castle giving it an ethereal beauty that threatened to steal my breath.
The carriage stopped. My awe inspired gaze dropped from the castle and I was about to ask one of my escorts why we'd stopped when I noticed what was on the road before us. Four winged men, dressed in dark metal armor and wearing the crest of the Deabru royal guard waited on the road next to a black and silver litter curtained with white silk. Behind them were four drakes, saddled and tied to the litter.
We had arrived. Mournfully, the footman opened the door for me and helped me out of the carriage. "May the gods look after you, Princess Claudia."
I placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Thank you." I looked at the ten men who had seen me safely to my execution. "Now you should all head home. You've done your duty." It was time for me to do mine.
Wanting to go with as much dignity as possible, I didn't wear traveling clothes on the last day of my journey. Instead I wore my most extravagant red gown, with a hand-embroidere
d bodice, the v-cut neckline descended down to my belly button as the nine foot train trailed behind me. Several dainty chains of gold hung from my neck. Rubies covered my tiara and were beaded through my hair, clinging to various pale locks like crimson droplets of blood scattered across soft sand. I was not going to step into that barbaric court as anything less than what I was, a princess of the greatest house in the history of the realm.
I walked up to the four men alone and unarmed, even without their wings each of them towered over me. But I showed no fear. "I am Princess Claudia of the House of Corvus. Your king is expecting me."
One of the men gestured for me to enter the litter. I'd expected for their faces to be twisted with hatred, but instead they had the cold detachment of military men simply doing their job. That bothered me more than hate. What was the point of executing me over something which people felt indifferent about? After I sat down and began to gather up my dress, to my surprise one of the guards leaned down to help me. Wide-eyed, I mumbled, "Thank you." As small as the gesture was, it was something I would never expect from a Deabru.
As the guards headed to their mounts I noticed my escorts hadn't left. Instead, they stood at attention watching as my litter was lifted from the ground and towards the sky. As they became specks in the distance beneath me, I realized I'd never lay eyes on my people again.
The litter was lowered onto a giant stone balcony that led directly into the grand throne room. Great stone pillars lined the path between me and the throne, on either side—demons. I guess some might call it a royal court, but dressed in leathers and furs they looked more like beasts than high born. Though the king was different. He lounged comfortably in his throne without a care dressed in a black linen tunic that held few embellishments. The throne next to him was more delicately carved, fit for a queen, though it hadn't been occupied since her death many years prior. I only knew of her legend, a female warrior, fierce as she was beautiful. When she should have been home producing an heir, she was instead leading troops into battle. As a child, I idolized her. I named my prettiest doll after her, though when news came that she'd killed my father on the battlefield, I burned it. It had been so hard not to cry when mother climbed onto father's funeral pyre. After all, I was just a child and lacked the discipline I learned as an adult. But somehow, I managed.
I held on to the image of the little girl watching her world go up in flames, clutching it as if it was a lifeline. I was strong then and I was strong now. I would not cower. I strode past the Deabru "court", every eye in the room locked on me in shunning silence and stopped right in front of the king with my head held high. "I am Claudia Corvus, Princess of Sanguine."
He rose from his throne and approached me. He was ridiculously tall, with broad shoulders that seemed even wider due to the black wings tucked behind him. He lifted my chin forcing me to look into his glassy charcoal eyes. They were bottomless. I could fall into them and never be found. I wanted so badly to look away, but I wouldn't let myself.
"You are very pretty," he said it like I was a horse he wanted to buy.
Or worse... Maybe he wouldn't just execute me. Maybe he'd make sport of me first. No. He couldn't. I was a princess! If he dishonored me in that way, my uncle would be forced into war regardless.
My stomach sank.
He could have his revenge and his war. Why didn't I see that before? Was it because it was hard for me to imagine that level of evil?
"We didn't hurt her, your sister. She died by her own hand." Maybe if he knew we treated our royal captive with respect, he'd do the same.
He released me. "You don't think I have spies in your court, vampire? They might not have been able to get her out, but they were able to get me news of her condition and if she had been harmed I would have brought that gaudy golden hut down around your heads."
Hut? Did he call my ancestral home a hut? Anger flickered across my expression before I could bury it. It was obvious he had noticed as he wore a long satisfied grin.
"If you knew we played no part in her death, why would you ask for me?"
He walked back and forth in front of me, his eyes trailing down the split in my dress. "I wouldn't say your people played no part. Do you know what we do to traitors?"
My eyes followed him as he paced. "Why would I?"
"We bind their wings and toss them out of the castle. My sister didn't put a dagger through her heart or drown herself. She chose to die a traitor's death. Why did she see herself as a traitor?"
Because she'd fallen in love with my brother. Her heart was torn between her people and her greatest enemy. "You wish to kill me because your sister couldn't resist a handsome face? I didn't seduce her."
He froze, a glimmer of amusement shading his features. "Wait. You think my intention is to kill you? And you accepted the offer anyway?"
"If I'm not here to pay the blood debt owed to your family, then why am I here?"
He sighed into his palm. "Our kind have been fighting on and off since before I was born. But after Shaya was captured, there was peace. And more than that. One of your kind was capable of loving one of ours. Do you understand what that means? There is some glimmer of hope that we can do better, be better, so our children won't have to grow up in a kingdom ravaged by war. I didn't ask you here to kill you. I asked you here to marry you and unite our peoples."
"But, I hate you." The words just shot out before I had a chance to consider them. The shock of my situation slamming into me at full speed. All around me were gasps and whispers, reminding me at the very heart, I was on a diplomatic mission. "I don't mean you, personally. I don't know anything about you. I just mean I have a strong aversion to your species."
Those cold black eyes gave no hint of emotion, which was unusual for Deabru, they tended to show their every emotion. I suppose as a king, he had to be better. "Take some time. Think over my offer. I've had a room set up for you in the meantime."
He made a simple gesture, dismissing me from his court and one of his guards stepped up to escort me to my quarters. I followed behind the iron clad man trying to figure out what to do next. Anyone I'd turn to for advice was a world away. I was alone in this prison of a kingdom.
Fully and utterly alone.
CHAPTER 22
T he walls of my room were the same onyx that made up the rest of the castle, so smooth that I could see my reflection. But instead of the silver, gray and purple hues that seemed to be everywhere else, the furniture in this room was made up of the same red and gold colors of my house. Connected to my room was a large wardrobe with dresses on display that were neither the elegant gowns of my people or the crass leathers of the Deabru, instead some strange hybrid of the two styles. An attempt at both elegance and function.
It was clear he was serious about his plan to unite our peoples. Every aspect of my quarters was a testament to that goal. But it wasn't that simple. Sanguinese women submitted to their husbands in all things. If the truce failed and war broke out once again, could I massage my husband's back and wash the blood of my people off his aching limbs?
That would be the vow I'd have to make and if I didn't believe I could do it, I wouldn't even be able to utter the words. Killing me would be so much... cleaner. I would only have to wear the mask for as long as my execution took. If I agreed to marry him, I'd have to wear the mask for the rest of my life. And being an immortal being, short of accident or murder, that would be a very long time.
The idea of taking him to my bed and having his little winged droppings wiggling out of me, made me want to fall to the ground and weep in despair. And what about Maxwell? Mourning my loss was one thing. The news of me marrying another man would destroy him.
As strong as I was trying to be, I could feel my heart shattering into fragile pieces inside my chest.
Why hadn't Julian married me off to some noble years go? All of this could have been avoided. His deep affection for Max kept him from using me to form a political alliance with some other kingdom. At the time, I couldn't comp
lain, I had no desire to surrender my will for the pleasure of another even if it was considered the greatest honor a woman could aspire to. Though part of me desired it, I could never marry Max because he was my lesser. He was safe.
Now I wished with all my heart my brother had married me off to some elf or fae or even a dwarf. Anything to spare me from what I had to do. And I knew I had to accept. If the only other option was war, the choice I was being given wasn't a real choice at all.
I crawled into the massive bed, and curled up under the soft silk sheets letting them curl around me in false comfort. I didn't even bother removing my dress. I was just so weary, both physically and emotionally. I needed to rest. Though my mind raced with the new twists of my fate, sleep found me quickly and I succumbed to it willingly. Anything to distract my frayed thoughts was welcomed with open arms.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of curtains being torn open. Blinding white light flooded the room and beamed brightly onto my face. Squinting I made out a woman in front of my window. She seemed different than other Deabru women, instead of tight leather, she wore a loose linen dress. Her red curls were tied up in a bun instead of falling over her shoulders and her dainty wings hung behind her like a cloak.
When I sat up, she attempted to curtsy. She'd clearly never even seen a curtsy let alone attempted one, but I appreciated the gesture. "Good morning, your majesty," she said in a sing-song voice. "I am Leya, your lady-in-waiting."
She waved at the door and in walked five young women who got to work tending to me and my room.
As two of the girls undressed me, Leya walked over to my wardrobe. "Have you decided what you want to wear today, my lady?"
I had had my eye on one dress in particular after seeing them, whatever the reason it stuck out to me more-so than the rest.
"I like the blue one, with the chain belt." The cut of it reminded me of an upside-down flower.
Moonstruck (Warring Hearts Book 2) Page 10
