Chapter 9
B irdsong pierced my ears. Groaning, I groped for a pillow and mashed it over my head. Maybe if I ignored it long enough, it would go away.
The trilling continued. Jerking the pillow from my face, I glared at the balcony doors. The sky outside was black. What kind of birds sang in the middle of the night?
The noise stopped.
Sighing, I stared at the doors. It was no use trying to fall back asleep. I had to spend the day with Lorcan, who murdered Noctans and stole their magic. The witch from the dungeon floated in my mind, her blue eyes burning with vitriol.
Blood traitor.
The accusation didn’t make sense…unless she’d meant I’d betrayed my vampire heritage. But my father had imprisoned her in deplorable conditions. She’d called him a thief. Why would she care if I rebelled against him? If Lorcan told the truth, she’d tried to kill me.
The bedchamber doors swung open, and Delphine entered. She stopped at the foot of my bed, her long, silver hair held back by two jeweled combs. Her hands were empty. No breakfast tray.
“What time is it?” I asked, struggling upright. Maybe this was a new kind of torment. It wasn’t enough for Lorcan and Rasimir to starve me. Now, they’d force me from bed before dawn.
“Early,” Delphine said softly. She curled her fingers over the edge of the footboard, her blue gaze hesitant.
I waited for her to explain why she’d disappeared.
My eyes were puffy from the tears I’d indulged after the guards delivered me to my empty bedchamber last night.
Someone had removed the basin and pitcher while I was away, leaving only a single cup and a small carafe of room-temperature water.
I’d paced for an hour, racking my brain for an escape plan while I tried to appease my rumbling stomach with small sips from the cup.
Eventually sleep had offered the only escape, and I’d crawled between the sheets and soaked my pillow until exhaustion dragged me under.
Delphine swallowed. “I’m sorry for your fast. But Prince Lorcan believes it will help with your training.”
So she knew about the dungeon. Possibly she knew everything that transpired after the hunt.
“I missed you yesterday,” I said, hearing the resentment in my voice. “I worried.”
She hesitated. “My apologies, Your Highness.”
That was it? Bitterness and disappointment rose thick enough to choke me.
Delphine had seemed like the sole bright spot in the Drakhold’s darkness.
She’d seemed like a friend. But that was before .
I couldn’t afford to trust her now. Like Vander, she’d offered kindness only to withdraw it.
Vander’s kindness had concealed dark motives.
But you kissed him anyway , a little voice reminded me.
I clenched my jaw.
“I am sorry,” Delphine said, misinterpreting the gesture. Holding my gaze, she spoke in a measured tone. “From time to time, my duties might interfere with my service to you. But I don’t mind. It’s a privilege to serve King Rasimir.”
The flowers in the room bowed, blossoms drooping toward the marble tabletops.
I froze, trapped in Delphine’s sapphire gaze. She was trying to tell me something. But she couldn’t speak freely.
My heart sped up. She couldn’t speak freely. That was the unspoken part.
“Yes,” I said slowly, “it’s a privilege to serve the king.” The flowers, which had started to straighten, bent toward the tables again.
Delphine gave a slight nod, the quick dip of her chin almost imperceptible. But I’d seen it. The question was, had anyone else? And who listened? Because someone did—and they reported to my father.
All of Nocta serves the king.
All of Nocta. My head spun, every interaction I’d had with Vander flashing in my mind.
In the Wendlewood, when the trees had bowed every time he invoked my father’s name.
The werewolf attack. The journey on the road, when the female pixie had scolded her male companion.
Do you want your head to end up on a pike?
Vander’s shift in personality the second we entered the Drakhold.
He’d been relaxed on the journey from Ghedda. He’d been kind. Charming. But he was rigid around my father, all that charm snuffed out.
Except when he pulled me into a corner and made me punch him.
And then kiss him.
My stomach released a loud, angry rumble. Delphine went to the table where I’d left the water pitcher. She returned with a cup, which she pressed into my hands. “You should drink all of it, Your Highness. Everyone wants you to do well today.”
I eyed her over the rim as I gulped, the water hitting my empty stomach with a sloshing sound. Fresh nerves fluttered through me as I searched for the hidden meaning between her words. Everyone wanted me to do well? What if I didn’t?
I lowered the cup, my stomach grumbling ominously around the water.
Maybe it was a good thing Delphine couldn’t be forthright.
Maybe I didn’t want to know what would happen if I failed my “training.” But success seemed impossible.
Rasimir wanted me to drain immortals and harvest their gifts.
He wanted to know if he was wasting time on me.
Delphine moved to the armoire and began rifling through dresses. “You won’t need a habit today,” she said without turning around. “Maybe something…Ah yes, here we go.” She pivoted, holding a dark purple gown against her body.
At least it wasn’t black. Although maybe I hadn’t earned Rasimir’s colors yet. I dismissed the thought as I met Delphine’s stare. I couldn’t read her mind, so I’d find my own meaning in the unspoken. The purple dress wasn’t a mark of inferiority.
It was an act of defiance.
“It’s perfect,” I said.
The hint of a smile gleamed in Delphine’s eyes. “I’ll ready your bath.”
A half hour later, resolve was a drumbeat in my chest as I faced the vanity mirror with Delphine behind me. I was still hungry, but I was clean. The gown fit as seamlessly as the others, and Delphine had once again worked magic with my hair.
“May I?” she murmured, raising her hands as she met my gaze in the mirror.
I faced her. “Please.”
She smoothed her thumbs under my eyes and then ran her palms down my face. When I turned back to my reflection, my skin glowed. Over my shoulder, Delphine’s eyelids swelled and darkened to pink before returning to pale, smooth ivory.
“You’re certain that doesn’t hurt you?” I asked.
She rested a hand on my shoulder. “I’m certain.” Stepping back abruptly, she jerked her head toward the door. “The prince is coming.”
Seconds later, two sharp raps sounded at the door.
I looked at Delphine. But as anxiety tried to rise, I stiffened my spine.
I didn’t have much power in Nocta. I didn’t have any, really.
But I couldn’t sit back and keep letting things happen to me.
Rasimir had tasked Lorcan with teaching me.
If he had information to give, I was going to take it—and figure out how to use it.
Once I did, I could leave Nocta, find my mother, and finally get some answers.
“Thanks,” I told Delphine. Then I crossed the chamber and opened the door.
Lorcan wore all black, the color broken only by the rich gleam of red at his hip.
A single dragonstone adorned the pommel of his sword, the crimson glow like a heartbeat above the braided leather grip.
His dark eyes were normal once more as he swept his gaze down my dress.
I forced myself to stand still, and I raised a brow when he finished his inspection.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
His expression didn’t change, but the twitch of muscle in his cheek let me know I’d surprised him. At the very least, I’d hit a nerve.
Without waiting for an answer, I brushed past him and headed down the corridor.
M oments later, I struggled to keep up with Lorcan as we crossed the Drakhold’s courtyard.
My breath puffed in the air, and goose bumps rose on my skin.
The sky was a predawn violet, although a crescent moon still lingered.
Lorcan’s boots left dewy outlines on the stone.
The statues stared sightlessly into the distance.
A mermaid appeared to leap from the water around her pedestal, her tail fin rising above a stone wave.
Her arms were outstretched as if she reached for something.
Lorcan didn’t slow when we reached the forest. The grass was flattened where the vampire courtiers had pitched their tents. I forced my attention away from it. And it was a good thing, because Lorcan seemed determined to cross the entire length of the forest as quickly as possible.
Shadows fell over us as we moved deeper into the woods, our boots crunching leaves and pine needles.
My gown caught on the jagged end of a stump, and I stopped to jerk it free before it ripped.
When I recovered, Lorcan was more than a dozen paces ahead, his back straight and his hair knotted at his nape.
He vaulted effortlessly over a log and kept going.
Ass.
For a second, I considered turning around. He couldn’t teach me if he left me behind. The dragonstone in his pommel swelled and waned, the beacon of red light growing smaller.
Muffling a curse, I hurried after him. By the time I caught up, sweat trickled down my back. The sweet scent of Nocta was heavy in my lungs, but the air didn’t sparkle. Maybe Vander was right, and I’d grown used to its magic.
One hand on his sword hilt, Lorcan continued his unforgiving pace. We walked side by side, our shoulders brushing. The dragonstone’s light flared above his fingers. Abruptly, his voice flooded my head.
Don’t look at me. It gives us away.
Startled, I jerked my attention to his face.
Are you a simpleton?
My angry gasp was loud in the hushed forest.
Say nothing , he said, his voice in my head fainter this time. I couldn’t have said how, but I sensed him pause. The next time his voice came, the words were muffled, as if he spoke from a great distance. Eyes forward. Always assume someone is watching.