Chapter 3 #2
“They say it’s Fabrian’s child,” Dara went on when her brother wouldn’t. “And we’ve all heard the stories of what happens to his bastards.”
The blight that was anything but. Fabrian’s whoring ways had left a trail of babes dead in their cradles before they managed to reach their third month.
Some suspected poison.
Most who dared whisper about it blamed dark magic–or Fabrian’s rotten soul.
And this was the man Evie tried to convince me she loved.
“For gods’ sake.” I downed my glass in one gulp, yanked Dax’s and polished it off, despite his protests. My stomach rumbled in protest. “This is insane.”
Clara placed a gentle hand on my back. “Maybe if Evie knew about this…”
“She knows. I’ve tried reasoning with her. She doesn’t seem to care about Fabrian’s past ,” I said. “She kept calling him her lump .”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t want children.” Dax grimaced as Fabrian struggled to fix his garish snakeskin lapels; everyone needed to know he was the heir. “She’d have fucking ugly babies with this dolt.”
“Stupid, too,” Dara said in that calm, measured way of hers. “Let’s pray they’ll take after Evie, though. Vegheara blood is stubborn.”
“And powerful.” Clara sighed, pushing her golden hair behind her ears. “Grandpa Constantine would have hated this.”
“Grandpa Constantine would have done something,” Dara said.
Yes, he would have.
Before she’d been taken away from us, Evie had been his princess.
On his deathbed, when old age had finally brittled his bones and drained his legendary powers, half-gone, with nobody but us grandchildren brave enough to stand by his side until the end, he’d kept crying out for Evie.
In his last lucid moments, he called losing her his greatest failure–as a leader, as a man, as a grandfather, as the great patriarch of our Protectorate First Family.
“You will have to take the stubborn reins of this Clan, Allie. The sooner you can, the better. Your father is a good man, but I didn’t raise him to rule.
“ Grandpa Constantine had said during our last afternoon tea, a tradition he’d started right after I’d lost my last baby tooth and he’d finally come to terms with Evie’s disappearance.
He’d reclined in his bed like he was sitting on his throne, a faraway look in his eyes. “You, on the other hand, are powerful.”
“Dad’s powers are strong, too,” I’d protested like the perfect dutiful First Daughter, though I’d mostly heard, rather than seen my father use them. “I inherited mine from him.”
Grandpa Constantine shook his head. “I mean in spirit. Nothing can break yours.”
I’d hidden my smile in my teacup. “Dad says I need to learn to bend it.”
“That is sage counsel–for an advisor, which Alaric should have been. A leader has a different responsibility. The rest need to bend to your rule.” He’d blinked up at his canopied bed as his teacup began to tremble.
“Evil times are coming, Allie. I can feel it. Be careful who you make enemies of, but be even more cautious of your allies. They’re the ones who can get close enough to stab you in the back. ”
That had been his last warning.
Shamefully, I hadn’t heeded it.
The last guests giggled their way into the courtyard and the harp player began to pull the delicate strings.
A stab of pain pierced my heart. I was watching a disaster unfold and nobody would listen to reason.
Not Evie, not my father, and I suspected Fabrian wouldn’t either.
Fabrian.
The one person I hadn’t tried to talk some sense into.
I set the glasses down on the banister.
It was a desperate plan, but one nonetheless.
“Evil times indeed,” I whispered. “Grandpa would have wanted us to do something. We need to deal with Fabrian.”
“A dagger to the throat?” Dax asked.
“Too obvious.” Dara shook her head. “He could have an accident in the outhouse.”
“That’s cliche enough that the Serpents would investigate,” Dax said. “We could always poison him.”
Clara shook her head. “That would leave a trace. As would a spell. We can threaten him with an iron-clad treaty.”
Dax jerked his chin at me. “You can tell Evie to stab him during their wedding night. We’ll take care of the body.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Then she’d be a widow and have to go into mourning for three years, according to the Clan Code. We need to do it during the ceremony, before she signs any contract.”
“You’re right.” Dax turned to Dara. “How quickly can you make a concealment rune?”
“If Uncle Maksim helps?” She shrugged, the metal chains on her shoulders clinking delicately. “Four, maybe five–”
“Enough,” I heard myself say in that imperious tone Grandpa Constantine had taught me. “Evie has forbidden any murders at her wedding–and we aren’t supposed to bear weapons today.”
Both the Protectorate and the Serpents had promised to come unarmed today, as a show of peace.
“She’s going against tradition already, it seems.” Dax grimaced. “What if she actually does love him?”
A ridiculous thought, but one I’d been forced to consider nonetheless. Evie’s proclamations of love had stayed my hand against Fabrian more than once since she’d announced the wedding.
If Evie did love her lump , then we couldn’t–and shouldn’t–intervene.
But all Evie’s dulcet words about her future groom sounded hollow.
My father said I always saw trouble where there was none–but there were embers here, I could feel it. The smoke just hadn’t risen yet.
“Separating lovers is criminal. Nobody should interfere if their love is pure,” Clara said.
“For some. I would have wanted someone to talk some sense into me two years ago and save me the heartache.” I crossed my hands in front of my chest, eyes narrowing on Fabrian. It was time we had a chat. “I couldn’t live with myself if Evie would suffer as I did.”
“At least we managed to do one thing right,” Dara said.
“Coordinate our outfits?” Dax asked.
Dara huffed a laugh. “We kept the wedding a secret from the Blood Brotherhood.”
A heavy silence settled over us.
If the Blood Brotherhood would have discovered us, the wedding would have ended in a blood bath.
Before she’d vanished, Evie had been betrothed to the Blood Brotherhood prince they called The Dragon when they’d both been babes, as a desperate attempt to end the animosity between our Clans.
This unholy union would break his claim on her hand.
They’d never met, and The Dragon didn’t even know Evie still lived. But his wrath could burn us all if he found out.
“It’s a miracle that Commander of theirs hasn’t uncovered our plan.” Clara shivered. “I heard not even graves are safe from him when he wants to find something.”
I tensed my muscles to keep my own shiver at bay.
The Commander was more legend than man.
The one they called Shadow.
A ghost haunting Malhaven.
The Dragon might have led the Blood Brotherhood, but the Commander was his secret weapon.
Few knew how or why he’d joined that heinous Clan only years before, only that he’d brought havoc to its enemies since.
I hadn’t met the man and, gods willing, I never would. Hearing the frightened whispers about him was enough.
“The Blood Brotherhood is too preoccupied with the Blood Moon ritual today to bother with us,” I said, wanting to soothe both my cousins and I.
The threat of the Blood Brotherhood was seared into every Vegheara heart. We’d been enemies since Clans had first taken root in Malhaven and the animosity had only thrived since.
“We need to worry about the danger in front of us.” I grabbed on tight to the banister, the marble heated up under the sun and narrowed my gaze on Fabrian just as he shoved one of his servants. “We can’t let Evie destroy her life.”