Chapter Thirty-Nine
Samara
I’d expected the killing of an ambassador to warrant some fanfare, but no one asked any questions in the days that followed.
Not that I would have known if things were amiss in the court.
We were anywhere but the palace. Though Raphael didn’t seem worried about another attack, our movements became irregular, and he didn’t leave my side.
It ensured there were no other assassination attempts—but it didn’t leave me much time to snoop.
There were no other meetings with Lady Jaen, either with or without me.
After I drank his blood each morning, he escorted me through different parts of the city.
Everywhere we went, at least two guards accompanied us.
We saw art galleries, museums, and street vendors.
The city had a rich history blended with thousands of new arrivals each day.
But perhaps what struck me most was how easy it was to spend time with Raphael.
When I marveled at the art, I found our tastes were rather similar.
When I learned about different histories in the museum, Raphael shared his own experiences.
With vendors, Raphael had a sharp eye for quality and gifted me several trinkets—under the guise of supporting the local economy.
I tucked each one in the bottom of my trunk, wondering if I’d have to abandon them in Damerel.
He continued my training too. There were more visits to donors, more compulsion practice. And while I’d once reluctantly gone along with it, each glance at my wrist reminded me I was a survivor. I was choosing to survive as a vampire.
And with it all, I sensed the fledgling bond ease. I could put over a thousand paces between us now. Not that Raphael liked my experiments, instead insisting on staying as close as possible.
The cruel irony was, I didn’t want to go too far either. As long as the bond kept me in place, I could drink his blood and see what the new world had to offer and not think about the fact that it would all come crumbling down.
And if anyone tried to kill me—he’d be there to stop them.
As long as he doesn’t know what you are. That voice followed me even while we explored Limanos.
There were still stray thoughts, dark and angry, but I got better at picking them out. Not dismissing them, but inspecting and letting them go.
And as we went, there were changes between Raphael and me as well. Laughter came more easily between us, mine a little high-pitched at his dry sarcasm, his with a low chuckle when I managed something witty.
Before I knew it, almost two weeks had passed, and the penultimate night of the festival had arrived.
As I fixed my hair in front of the mirror, brushing the white tresses into a low knot at the nape of my neck, and Raphael readied across the room, one thought echoed over and over in my mind.
I wish the festival were longer than a mere two weeks.
“No guards?” I asked Raphael as we mounted our horses in front of the palace. Raphael was on one of the Nykta mares, while I managed to get myself on Alphonse with little enough trouble that I knew my skills hadn’t entirely disappeared in the past two weeks.
“We won’t need them today.”
“Where are we going again?” Raphael had mentioned that the thirteenth night was a particularly large celebration, but he hadn’t shared specifics.
I’d meant to dress for the occasion, with a deep navy gown, luxurious fur shawl, and silver jewelry—not made by a would-be assassin—adorning me, but then I’d walked out and found Raphael wearing simple trousers and a button-down shirt.
They both looked sinfully good on him, but it was almost casual compared to everything else.
That was the point where he helpfully informed me that I should wear riding clothes. Now, I, too, was in a long white tunic paired with trousers.
“It’s a surprise,” Raphael said. “We don’t need the others.”
The city was shockingly empty. Everyone must be gathering somewhere else. I wondered if we were going to join them, but as Raphael led us farther from the city, I had my doubts.
Raphael finally stopped at the top of a cliff and dismounted.
I moved to follow his lead, and he was immediately at Alphonse’s side, pulling me from the saddle.
“I can manage on my own,” I told him.
But the help was nice.
“What are we doing here?” The only other sounds around us were some animals rustling in the foliage. Trees lined our back, plain grass leading up to the sharp drop of the cliff.
Raphael gestured me to join him at the edge.
The shoreline stretched for miles below. In the distance, back by the city, were sparks of people and embers. Bonfires.
“Is that where everyone celebrates?”
He nodded. “There’s been feasts all day down there, and they’ll continue for another few hours.”
“Why aren’t we there, then?” If it was such a big event, surely he was expected to attend. “Are you worried about another attempt?”
The shake of his head was sharp, decisive. “Not at all. But there will be some rather loud parts of the celebration. For anyone with sharp hearing, it can be challenging, but especially for a newly turned vampire.”
Oh. It was all for me. “Do you wish you were over there instead?”
He raked his gaze over me. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
I looked away. “Thank you. For thinking of me. Will we be here all night?”
“We have some time. There’s an hour now, maybe less, till the show begins.”
An hour. “I’m surprised you’re not making me do drills, considering all the other training we’ve been doing.”
He arched a brow. “Is that your way of asking me to spar with you, little viper?”
I snorted. “Definitely not.”
Raphael went back to his horse and tied her reins. I led Alphonse over, copying Raphael’s practiced movements. Then I walked around the trees, debating breaking a branch. I could do it easily with the vampire strength I now possessed.
A fallen branch caught my eye—or more accurately, my nose. I lifted it, inhaling the warm, spicy scent. Several scaled tufts branched out, so I snapped the branch in two, turning it to a manageable size. I tested the weight in my hand. Perfect.
Raphael was watching me, but he’d moved. Now he sat at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling off the edge as if it were nothing more than a chair.
I hesitated, debating if I should join him. He hadn’t called me over, was just watching me, but the invitation was there.
The invitation was always there, if I let myself acknowledge it.
I looked past him to the ocean, the deep navy reflecting slivers of the moons. It was a long way down if I slipped.
The salty breeze carried over, prickling along my tongue. The ocean I hadn’t let myself near. Now, I could sit and stare at it if I dared.
It was dangerous and enticing in equal measure.
My feet moved before I let myself hesitate any longer. Even if I was clumsy and fell . . . it wouldn’t kill me. I’d heal. I’d survive it.
The spot next to Raphael was suspiciously empty of any stray pebbles, as if it had been cleared. I hid a smile as I sat down next to the vampire king and pulled the branch back onto my lap. From my thigh, I pulled the small dagger and tested it against the wood.
“Making a practice sword so we can spar after all?”
“Not on a bet. This is too thin for that anyway. I wanted to try and carve another woodwind instrument.” I began to scrape the bark away. The wood was softer than oak or hickory. Not ideal, but I’d liked how the branch smelled enough to overlook that.
He looked out at the sea. “Is the one you have not to your liking?”
“I love the flute.” I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.
“Better than a carrot?” he pressed.
I laughed. “You remember that? Yes. Much better than a carrot. I just had some thoughts after the lesson, about what an instrument made just for a vampire might be like.”
“For a vampire?” He sounded intrigued.
I turned the branch over in my hands. I’d stripped away the bark easily enough; now I had to think more carefully.
“Well, breath control plays a significant role in performing. But vampires don’t need to breathe, not the same way.
So you could theoretically play more tightly controlled notes, with the fingers also able to move between keys more quickly .
. . sorry,” I said, trailing off. “I’m rambling. We can talk about something else.”
“I like to listen to you ramble,” Raphael said. As if this admission was nothing but a simple fact, not something that made me feel warm all over.
“I like your voice too.”
“My voice?” he teased.
It was easier to say it, side by side like this, with no one else around, when I could focus on carving and not looking at him, not seeing the glint in his eye.
“Even when I didn’t like you, I liked your voice.
I thought it sounded like the night.” It seemed silly now.
“Not a scary night. But like this one.” I pointed the stick out in front of us. “Vast. Peaceful.”
“Mmm.” The sound resonated low in his throat. “What would you like me to use my voice to say?”
“You could tell me about you,” I said impulsively.
“What do you want to know?”
“You could tell me how you became friends with Thea and Demos.”
“Amalthea,” he murmured. “That wasn’t a happy story, as you know. She and her father fled the Witch Kingdom after her magic was discovered. She sought refuge here.”
“Not how you met her,” I corrected. “How you became friends.”
“Ah. How do you think it happened?”
I considered. “Somehow, I doubt she gave you a choice.”
“You’d be right.” I could hear the smile in his voice, could picture his expression so clearly even while I refused to look.
“She was young, but she had the mettle of vampires a hundred times her age. As you’d expect, she and her father were given housing on the first level of Damerel.
She didn’t stay there. Instead, she would sneak into the palace, evading guards, and appear before me.
A single human, beating heart, evading trained guards. ”