29. Cirri
Chapter 29
Cirri
I t was only the thought that Bloodrain would be over at midnight that kept me from hiding in the closet while Rose fussed over my hair. The elaborate braid she was working on somehow managed to feel heavier than my hair on a normal day, tugging at my scalp.
I’d holed up in the library all day to work, the presence of the golems dissuading Kajarin from returning. Bane had been busy, and the keep was strangely quiet without Visca and her legions. The vampires had emptied out of the keep overnight, leaving the walls mostly undefended.
Not that I was too concerned about becoming a breakfast for wargs—Wroth had planted himself firmly on the keep’s walls, and had shown no signs all throughout the day of ever moving from that spot again.
Here, the day had been quiet. If I hadn’t seen Wyn’s decorations for myself, I would have forgotten today was Bloodrain entirely.
In Argent, I knew that at this very moment the streets would be hung with crimson banners, and children would already be going door to door, collecting their salty-sweet candies and cinnamon buns. The bonfires would already be roaring thirty feet high, and for every fire, there would be an effigy made of spiced meats, pork and beef molded into Liliach Daromir’s feminine shape, to be roasted as the fires died down. The market stalls would be selling soft, chewy flatbread to go with it, and everyone would be drunk by midnight.
The candies were the best part of Bloodrain, a taste synonymous with childhood when we indentured foundlings were allowed out on the streets, but there was none of that here.
Instead the vampires, and the human nobility, celebrated by dressing in their finest and hosting a ball.
Rose tucked a tiny braid into the larger one, and twisted a ruby pin into my hair. My waist was cinched in tightly enough to pinch, so I could wear the dress that hugged my shoulders and torso, and bloomed outwards into a skirt like the petals of a rose.
It might have been easier to get ready in silence, but Wyn hovered over me as well. With Visca gone, her tension radiated to me, her new victim. Though she was dressed for Bloodrain herself in red silk robes, thick with embroidery, her mouth was turned down at the corners, and she seemed to have taken me on as a pet project for her own distraction.
“Lovely,” she said, touching my hair as Rose clutched her cheeks and waved a simpering hand: oh, you.
I couldn’t bring myself to drive Wyn off. She clearly missed her wife and worried for her safety, and needed something to take her mind off that anxiety; and I had also noticed she seemed much warmer towards me since I’d overcome my fear of Bane feeding on me. I didn’t want to lose that warmth.
Besides, I would welcome the extra hands today, and I wouldn’t protest the expensive clothes. Not when I fully planned to seduce my own husband. Last night had not been nearly enough; sometimes I thought I was going mad, with how desperately I wanted to rip his clothes off with my teeth. It was an unshakeable craving, down in my bones.
She does beautiful work , I wrote in the journal, balanced precariously on my lap. You’ve outdone yourself with her.
“I should say something self-deprecating, but… I really did, didn’t I?” Wyn looked over the golem smugly. “When you have children, I’ll make some to help as nannies. It would be best for a growing bloodwitch to grow up comfortable with sanguimancy.”
My eyebrows shot up so high they might well have vanished into my hairline. Children? I signed, temporarily forgetting my journal.
Children? How could I have forgotten them?
I’d never considered the possibility in my entire life. Before I was plucked from the river of life by Fate’s hand, I had been only concerned with my own education, and paying off the debt with the labor of my youth.
Children had never figured into the equation, much less a husband. How on earth would I have afforded them, working for the Sisters until I was fifty?
Fortunately, Wyn hadn’t lost her intuition for what I was asking.
“Yes, children,” she said, draping a ruby-studded necklace around my throat and eyeing it in the mirror. “You should have… oh, at least two, I would think. Three might be better. An heir, of course, but as you can never be too careful, you’ll want to have one prepared as the next sanguimancer to take my place. One day I’ll retire from this position and pursue another research expedition into Liuridar—but not before I’ve trained them up properly, of course.”
My hands remained frozen, hovering in midair, as I parsed which question was the most important to ask—children, sanguimancy, Liuridar… retirement?
Why did she have to drop a sack of bricks on my head right before I was supposed to appear composed and confident in front of other people?
“I can see you’ve got yourself worked into a tizzy,” she said wisely, discarding the necklace and trying out a lacy silver one. “Your children will be bloodwitches, Cirrien dear. As I am. The progeny of a vampire-human couple is always a bloodwitch, male or female. Which means that I will be in charge of teaching them, of course, and you should thank your ancestors for that. You won’t find a better teacher in Veladar.”
But… children , I said, the gears of my brain still grinding against each other.
“Of course I’m going to retire one day!” she said indignantly, completely misreading me. “I’m a hundred years old, and I’ve spent eighty-seven of those years underground. Once Hakkon is strung up and your children have completed their apprenticeships, I’m off to visit Serissa at least once in my life. Visca promised.”
I blinked at her and tried to unstick my brain from that one word.
So. Children. I was married, after all; it wasn’t like children were an impossibility when I was happy to peel off every scrap of fabric I wore when Bane came to bed.
And it wasn’t a concern that they would starve in my care; Bane didn’t lack for gold or food or clothes. I was no longer indentured into my fifties. Any children I had would grow up safe, secure, well-fed, loved…
So they were no longer an impossibility. I could even imagine them, with my red hair and Bane’s gold eyes…
They were just something so new in concept to my life that I couldn’t quite imagine that they ever would happen.
“You’re fortunate, though.” She discarded the silver necklace and found a crimson ribbon. “With the Accords in place, your children will grow up as respected, even beloved, sanguimancers. In my day…” Wyn chuckled sadly, tying the ribbon off as a choker. “Well, more bloodwitches were burned than lived. I only made it this far because my mother forbade me from the surface. It took many, many years of Visca telling me that it would be all right before I could bring myself to leave the Below—the expeditions into deeper earth, into Fae territory, those were nothing compared to the fear I felt of the world above! The thought that if I ever met my own father, he might tie me to a stake and char me to ash… that seemed far more terrible than the perpetual darkness.”
I touched the ribbon, just tight enough to kiss my throat without choking me. Wyn fussed with my hair, then the sleeves of my dress—giving her hands something to do. I thought she might only be talking to keep her mind off her wife.
“Now I’m glad, of course. This world is so lovely. But part of me will always feel more at home in the deeps. Besides, there’s a positive wealth of research down there that we might work on between the two of us, you and I.” Wyn beamed at me in the mirror. “Alas, that won’t come until after you’ve had children, and I’ve taught them both all I know of sanguimancy. Ancestors know I’ve a lifetime’s worth of knowledge to pass along, and by the time they’re old enough to practice the art, I’ll have more. Ha, it’ll take an entire second lifetime just to teach them all I know.”
Suddenly it became a lot harder to keep a smile on my face.
By the time Wyn was done teaching my children all she knew, I’d have one foot in the grave, if I wasn’t in it entirely.
If we had them. But if we did… I wouldn’t live long enough to see their full potential. I’d just have to trust in Bane, Wyn, and Visca to ensure they did.
How ephemeral I was.
I’m glad they’ll have you , I wrote, and the letters were only a little shaky. I jammed my feet in the heeled slippers Rose nudged towards me and stood up, sliding my journal on the dresser and shaking out the petal-like skirt.
If I was going to appear smiling and happy, I couldn’t think about theoretical children, or the fact that I wouldn’t see them in their full flower, or that Wyn would be doing that oh-so-tempting research without me.
So I put my mind to the fact that we were going to have a good time, or… something close to that. At least I would see Bane.
I checked the mirror a last time, ensuring that there were no ink spots on my hands, smoothing the scarlet silk of my constricting bodice.
The thin bodice. I couldn’t peel my thoughts from the abrupt change of course my life had taken.
“Well, onto less enticing subjects,” Wyn muttered, offering her arm. “By the ancestors, I loathe parties. By the time I’m done planning them I have no energy for enjoyment.”
I didn’t take her arm; instead I dragged my journal towards me, scrawling a message to her.
Wyn read it over, frowning at first, but a speculative look came into her eyes. “Of course it’s possible, dear. Rose, come unlace her corset. This will only take a moment.”
The golem hung her head, but she moved quickly to obey.
There was still no sign of Bane when we stepped into the ballroom together, Wyn smiling a little too brightly.
Of course she was happy, despite what she’d done. Beneath the tightly re-laced corset, the skin of my lower stomach glowed with warmth. Wyn had used a drop of my own blood to write a sigil over my womb. It had sunken into my skin, leaving behind no trace of its presence but the heat sinking through my flesh.
It would prevent children, she’d told me, as long as she renewed it after every third full moon. And she was beaming because I’d as much as announced I would be seducing my own husband with the intent of producing an heir at some point.
But not soon. Not until I’d asked him for a gift he might not be willing to give.
Dancers swirled across the floor as the musicians, a quartet of humans and vampires, played a slow, soft song. Beyond them, a group of humans lingered near the crimson-draped columns, half-glimpsed in the flickering light of the chandeliers overhead, all of them cradling wine glasses. They schooled together like a fish, a tight-knit group on the edges.
Kajarin was among them, wearing a brilliantly emerald dress and laughing uproariously at something one of the human noblemen said. He’d been at the wedding reception; I recognized him as the man whose wife had been flustered about my lack of speech. His eyes glued to Kajarin’s prodigious cleavage.
The vampires had chosen to linger near the windows—maybe they expected another warg to interrupt this year’s Bloodrain. They wore crimson in celebration of the holiday, and the only humans among them were bleeders. Yuli was sheathed in red satin, the skin of her throat freshly pink with new bite scars, clinging to the arm of a handsome vampire with a shock of hair as red as my own. His green cat’s eyes flashed to me and Wyn, and he smiled.
I was obligated to smile in return, of course, but my eyes didn’t stop roving the ballroom, looking for my decidedly absent husband.
But Wroth had joined us. Enormous and pale, lurking behind a column of roses, he looked… as resplendent as a fiend could possibly be, his clothes tailored to his large, misshapen body, the brocade jacket sweeping down to where his knees bent backwards. His pale eyes were fixed on Kajarin, who fluttered among the humans like a butterfly.
I exhaled slowly, nervous to walk among these lais and fels, people who knew how to behave properly at a vampiric ball. At least in Argent Bloodrain meant eating candy and finding a nice seat to watch the bonfires, not playing nice with people who pretended I wasn’t there.
“Someone is looking less than merry.” Wyn’s eyes narrowed to thin blades, which she directed at a glum-faced vampire in Auré’s retinue. “I know it couldn’t possibly be my hospitality he finds lacking.”
I shook my head, hiding a smile. I suppose you should go do what you do best , I signed to her, my palms sweating at the idea of having to go mingle by myself. Make him enjoy himself. Mandatory merriment, number two on the list.
“I have the strangest feeling you’re having fun at my expense,” she said, eyeing my hands. “Well, I’m going to go chat him up, and see if I can’t get him to behave a little livelier. This is a celebration, after all.”
I didn’t have to fight the smile this time, laughing into my hands.
“Just smile and wave, dear, you’ll be fine.” Wyn swept off, leaving me staring after her, my smile gone just as suddenly as it’d arrived.
The last thing I wanted was to approach the humans alone. I ineffectually hovered in the door, unable to force myself to walk to either of the largest groups. On one side, there was Kajarin, dominating the humans… her cheeks already flushed with drink, now patting the lacy cravat of a young nobleman as she smirked up into his face, leaning forward enough to press her breasts to his arm.
And on the side, there were strange vampires, Auré among them. Neither of us had apologized, and I had no doubt it would be a cold day in hell before one finally came. Wroth was his own party of one, glowering in a corner, everyone giving him a wide berth.
Aside from Wyn, there was no one I particularly knew. I wished Visca were here, or that my husband would make an appearance and save me from dithering like a fool.
I swallowed hard, making up my mind. On the count of three, I’d move, in either direction—but I would move, and not stand here awkwardly, not while Wyn was out there making a valiant effort to show off during Bloodrain.
One. Two. Thr—
“May I have the first dance, Lady Cirrien?”
I turned my head, my gaze meeting eyes as green as mine, nearly identical but for the fine pupils. The vampire who had smiled, his skin still flushed with the blood he’d drunk from Yuli.
I suppose , I said dubiously, unsure of his motives, then rolled my eyes at myself mentally.
Motives? This was one of their favorite holidays. Maybe he just wanted to dance… but Visca had told me that the male vampires would not approach me directly. It would be considered forward by their kind, verging on a dire insult to Bane.
You have the advantage of me , I said, and the vampire raised a brow. “I apologize, but unlike Auré, I’m not accomplished in multiple tongues, as Veladari has served me well my entire life. If you’re asking my name, I’m Erik fel Coros. If you’re asking why, well, it’s because you’re the most beautiful woman in this room tonight.”
He took my hand, bowed over it, and kissed it—then looked up at me rather smolderingly.
I gave him my most weary stare, sighing through my nose.
Erik laughed nervously, his eyes flicking towards the group he’d come from—the group where Auré seemed relaxed, speaking to another vampire, but her eyes were on us.
I was certainly not going to be the one to apologize first. Ever.
For her benefit, I signed with broad, clear motions, staring directly into her eyes. Is this a test? What did you think I would do, fuck him right here on the ballroom floor?
Surprisingly, Auré smiled.
I turned my venomous gaze on Erik. As for you, playing childish games—
“Unfortunately for poor Erik, he was press-ganged into my nefarious plans.” Auré’s smoky voice was so close I half-expected her lips to touch my ears. I scowled at the woman, who had draped herself over Erik’s shoulder with such quick, fluid grace that she seemed to come from nowhere. “He really does love to dance.”
What are you looking for, exactly? I asked her. Why the pathetic attempt at entrapment?
“An excuse, Lady Cirrien. I’m looking for an excuse.” Auré adjusted Erik’s lapel, the vampire male looking between the two of us nervously. “One day you’ll slip up, and you won’t see me in the shadows, waiting for my moment.”
Save the hard talk for someone who cares . By the Light, I was damn tired of this woman, with her accusations and petty games.
Auré’s violet eyes hardened, almost glowing in the candlelight. “I smelled your scent in the library,” she said softly, ever smiling, giving Wyn no reason to come save me. “I smelled Kajarin with you. What plans have you two wrought together?”
I started shaking my head before she even finished speaking. It was galling to have to defend myself against her, though I’d done nothing wrong. Plans? Right now my only plan is to worry about your obsession with me. I can’t stop Kajarin from using the library, no matter how much I’d like her gone from the keep entirely.
“Using the library for her little assignations,” Auré sneered. “Do you keep watch for her?”
I can see we’re going to make no progress with each other . I kept my gaze level despite the fury licking at my veins. You’ll keep accusing me of being a whore, and I’ll keep accusing you of being an idiot. Why don’t we call a truce for the night and go our separate ways? I’d hate to ruin Wyn’s hard work.
The beautiful vampire touched Erik’s hand and whispered to him, and to my relief, he made a sharp retreat to the vampires clustered by the window. Yuli welcomed him back with open arms.
“There can be no truces,” Auré murmured to me. “My sole purpose is to protect the Lords of Veladar against their enemies—be they wargs, or women.”
I am no loyalist , I told her.
“So she’s told you what she is?” Auré watched Kajarin flirt, expressionless, but her pupils had contracted into fine lines—a vampire on the verge of hunting. “I’m sure she’s tried to recruit you to the cause.”
Tried and failed, I emphasized. I grew up in Argent. The few loyalists there are treated like scum, and rightfully so. I know what we owe to your kind.
“In Argent, under the Silver Sisters ’ protection.” Auré made her own emphasis quite clear. “One of our most ancient enemies, and if you don’t believe the loyalists have infiltrated their ranks, you’re wrong.”
I was never a Sister proper. I was their indentured servant, and have no loyalty to their beliefs . I half wished for Wyn to save me now. I’m sure you could take every piece of evidence and twist it to suit your convictions, Lady fel Seren. All I will tell you is that I’m not, and never will be, a loyalist, and I’m perfectly happy with Bane. All you’re doing is interfering and making an enemy of me.
Auré met my gaze levelly. “In another life, I think I would’ve liked you. But I’ve been wrong about so many things. I helped the human Lords create the first draft of the Accords, despite all the restrictions it placed on us. I helped choose Kajarin. I lost Andrus’s first wife to the wargs. I made their lives hell. But every time I wanted to do things my way, I was told I was overthinking, overreacting, overplanning. So I went with everyone else’s ideas, and every time they failed. Never again. I trust only myself now.”
I’d had no idea Auré had been that deeply involved with every aspect of the negotiations between our kinds. With that much bad luck and failure under her belt, no wonder she was wary of me.
I still didn’t like her. But she was one of them, and I would be in the wrong for not trying.
I’m not asking you to like me, I signed slowly, choosing my words with care. But I know you are one of Bane’s oldest friends, and you have his best interests at heart. Any hostility between us will only hurt him in the end. So no, I’m not asking you to treat me as a close friend. I’m asking you to give me a chance before you make me your enemy, for his sake.
Her pupils widened, her head tipping to the side.
I can live with us hating each other. He is the one who will be hurt if forced to choose between allegiances. It’s better for him if you and I can come to an agreement—let’s loathe each other in a way that doesn’t impose on his ability to rule. Or his willingness to contact his brothers. These tests of yours are only going to alienate you from him.
“This is an argument I can understand, even if I don’t like it.” Auré searched my eyes. “Very well—I’ll agree to that. But I will be keeping an eye on you. You were part of the Silver Sisterhood, and Kajarin has openly tried to bring you into her circle. Perhaps, in ten years or so, if Lord Bane is still happy… then we will reconsider our feelings towards each other.”
Agreed. Have a good night, Lady fel Seren.
“Bloodrain tidings, Lady lai Darran,” she murmured. Her gaze moved over my shoulder, and then she was gone with a rustle of silk.
I exhaled in relief. Having achieved a tentative truce of my own with a hostile vampire was… well, stressful and slightly terrifying. But I had achieved it, without anyone else’s help, and that made me feel a little better about this night. Bane would not have to choose between me and his oldest, strongest allies, not if I had anything to do with it.
A rough hand took my arm, spinning me around, and I was hit first with the scent of wine and whisky-soaked breath, and then with Miro’s huge smile. “Well, are we going to dance or not, Lady Silence? To hell with Bloodrain, I’ve got my own success to celebrate. Come now!”
His voice, at the volume drunks get when they’re a bottle or more in but not too inebriated to walk, carried through the room. His fingers dug into my arms, and I realized Miro fully intended for me to be his dancing partner.
The scent on his breath made my stomach turn, and his hand was tight around my waist as he dragged me forward and spun me around carelessly.
This was the worst Bloodrain I’d ever lived through.
“I finished your commission,” he told me, pulling me into another wide sweep. He was slurring his s ’s into mush, voice thick. “Would I call it a masterpiece? Possibly, but I think I have greater works in me still.”
I moved a hand to sign and he grabbed it, crushing my fingers with drunken strength.
“Let’s not ruin this with your hand-wavey gibberish, if you please, I’m finally having some fun.” Miro laughed in my ear as he clutched me close, unheeding of the hands I braced against his chest, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial volume. “Have you ever gotten all you wanted and more? Oh, yes—you did, didn’t you, when you married Bane the savior. Must’ve been nice, right, to have it all dropped in your lap on a silver platter?”
I stared up at him, appalled.
“But hey, I got paid in gold, and gold is what it’s all about.” He gave me a wink as he tipped me backwards. “So thank you , Lady Silence. If not for you, for your stunning visage, I’d still be painting landscapes and bowls of fruit, and I wouldn’t have a new patron for my services.”
I hated that damn nickname, and his disdain when he spoke of Bane, and I decided right then and there that even if it ruined Wyn’s efforts to have a joyful celebration, I was going to punch him in the face.
I drew back my arm, folding my fingers, eyes focused on the cut-glass line of his jaw. Hell, maybe I’d break it and give him something new to whine about.
But Miro jerked me upright, stumbling a little, and an enormous, gentle hand folded itself around my fist.
Relief crashed over me in a titanic wave. I drowned in it. Luxuriated in it. I’d never been so happy to see my husband’s misshapen, beautiful face.
“I’m here to rescue you,” Bane said, and truer words were never spoken.