24. Aurelia
Earth-shattering things never came with a warning.
Just like on the eve of my mother’s death, it was a calm, sunny day. It was misleading. Lulling you into a false sense of security, and then it would strike.
At least this time, I knew it was coming, no matter how hard I tried to deny it. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it. My destiny was about to hit me right in the face.
The one day every vampire princess was born to go through was coming faster than I could stop it. The same day they lived—and sometimes died—trying to obtain. For most, it was a sign of their power. The more powerful the family a princess married into, the more power she had.
But for me, it was a death sentence.
I was born for more. So much more. My potential was not that of a vampire princess who would just sit there looking pretty while her husband conquered the world.
I was the one who was supposed to rule. I knew I could do it. It was in my blood.
But after my mother died, there was no one to fight for my ascension to the family’s throne. For my rightful place. And as much as I tried, there was no going against Father.
He was much more powerful and ruthless than I ever could be.
Marriage was my only way out. But in reality, I was just trading one cage for another.
The new one was seemingly even more horrendous than staying with my father and god-awful stepfamily.
Father stole something from the Solei family.
I had an inkling of what it was, but I couldn’t bring myself to even consider the vile idea. But at the same time, it wasn’t very surprising.
Vampires like them had no moral compass. They took what they wanted. Including other vampires. Anything to expand their range of power.
Krae wouldn’t approve.
I couldn’t help but wonder what our goddess was feeling watching this all unfold. My mother was so devoted to her, yet she stood by while she and her daughter suffered at the hands of a single man.
Sometimes I even wonder if she is real at all.
Even if she was, praying to her wouldn’t do me any good. She had proven her uselessness to me enough.
Along with everyone else…even myself.
But wallowing in my own pity would do nothing for me, so I spent the last day of whatever freedom I had left in the back gardens that surrounded the property and reveled in the only place of my mother’s that still stood standing.
I hoped—foolishly—that it would make me feel closer to her. Maybe give me the answers I was looking for. Some hint at how she survived all those years with my bastard of a father.
Of course, all I was met with was a reminder of how little one’s life meant in the grand scheme of things.
My mother’s favorite place was one filled with life. A place where flowers bloomed all year round. Where the essence of her soul could be felt by all those who entered. Walking into the garden felt like being pulled into my mother’s warm embrace. A place that provided comfort.
But a place like that didn’t exist after her death—at least not under Father’s reign.
What was once a flourishing garden had turned into a long-dried-up fountain with overgrown weeds seeping through the cracks standing at the center of millions of roses my mother had planted. It hadn’t been cared for in the years since she was gone, but for some reason, Father still kept it standing.
All the colorful beauty she spent years planting by herself, cutting open her hands, and spilling her blood into the soil was all demolished in the blink of an eye. My father attempted to destroy every bit that my mother left behind and replaced it with his own colorless void.
I liked to believe it was the people’s decision to keep some part of my mother alive. That maybe he had tried to get the eyesore taken down, but no one would heed his requests out of respect for my mother.
Even after hours, I found myself still sitting on the edge of the fountain, looking down at the cracked blue tile she had specially created by one of the family’s mosaic artists. Intricate blues, whites, and reds swirled around each other creating beautiful blossoms of color.
Even with all the grime and dirt that covered it over the years, it shone beautifully in the dimming sun. Not even the cracks could take away from its beauty.
I missed my mother in moments like that the most.
The moments when all the anger had finally subsided. When the reality of the situation had sunk in. And when I couldn’t just talk my way out of it. Hell, I couldn’t even blackmail my way out of it.
Money. Connections. They had no use. Not when the payoff was power.
Even beyond that…not when the real reason for the deal was something that was decided long before I was even born.
Those were the moments when my walls started to crumble. Every single brick that I carefully plastered together with all the rage that had been building inside my body was coming apart. I was no longer able to keep what lay behind locked away.
I am just waiting for my doom.
There was another complication, though. One that I prayed would just leave. I thought the assassin would just give up after a while, obviously not willing to help me in the way that mattered the most.
She should have left. After all, she had failed her job so spectacularly that it was comical.
Yet she was still here.
The sound of her footsteps crushing the roses beneath her feet caused an unexpected smile to spread across my lips. They weren’t the light, careful footsteps of someone trained to kill. They were heavy-booted footfalls that cared nothing for the plants she was stepping on.
The plants my father adored so much.
“Destroying the wildlife, are we now?” I asked, turning to the intruder.
She stood tall in her all-black uniform, her hands in her pockets, and a contemplative look on her face. The dimming sun hit her face in a way that caused her various scars to shine in the light and her hair to glow.
She is too beautiful for this world.
It was hard not to get distracted by her. Especially when my brain was begging to forget about what was happening to me.
Her honey eyes passed over my face, actually looking at me.
It had been so long since someone had truly seen me the way she seemed to. I used to hate what the little mouse hid behind those eyes of hers. Dangerous thoughts, no doubt, but in that moment I would have paid anything to hear even just a snippet of what she was thinking.
Her gaze held mine for only a moment longer before she looked down, rubbing her booted foot on the ground harder.
Light wind wafted through the garden and caused her hair to get blown onto her face. The urge to run my hands through it—maybe even grab a handful and force her to bare her neck to me—was strong.
“The temptation of damaging daddy’s extravagant show of wealth was too great,” she said, dragging her feet as she neared the fountain. Each flower that was destroyed under her booted foot felt like a little bit of a gift, each of them helping put a piece of myself back.
But she didn’t sit. Instead, she lingered by my side. Her leg brushed across mine.
The action sent an odd jolt of electricity through me. It was such a simple move. Could even be called an accident.
But it felt much more meaningful than even the night we spent together, where her touch had been burned into my skin.
“Did I stay out here too long?” I asked, tilting my head, trying to recall just how long I had been sitting out there. I knew it had been hours, but how many?
Had Father or the prince finally decided to put an end to my freedom?
Her eyes met mine again before she looked at the fountain.
“It isn’t that bad,” she said, her eyes roaming over each crack in the tile. “Well, it’s not great, but it shouldn’t take long for someone to clean and repair it. I’m sure one of your staff could get it done in about a week.”
What? Nothing about Father or the prince? Not even any questions about our meeting with Atlas?
She wants to talk about the fucking fountain?
I let out a scoff and looked away from it as a heaviness settled in my chest. I couldn’t fight the vulnerable feeling. I should have handled it long ago, but for some reason…I never did.
Why didn’t I?
No use now…
“Did you forget?” I asked with a bitter laugh. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”
I don’t know what I expected her to say, but her silence was like a stab in the chest. Somehow, I managed to still have the tiniest bit of hope that she had changed her mind about murdering my father.
But the silence weighed on.
Fuck, say something, why don’t you?
The rage was returning, but instead of the tidal wave of power it once felt like, it was more like desperation clawing at my throat. It made me want to scream. It made me want to stomp my feet.
I wanted her to say something. Anything.
Say you changed your mind. Say you’ll kill him for me. Tell me you’ll?—
“Should we have a bachelorette party?”
Her question made my head snap toward her so quickly my neck ached. Her gaze was back on me, unmoving. That stone-cold face of hers didn’t even give one twitch to indicate if she was joking.
Because she isn’t.
“Are you drunk or something?” I stood up and grabbed her face, forcing her to look at me. Her skin was hot and sent warm skitters down my arm. I wanted to bathe in it.
I searched her eyes, ignoring the way my body was betraying me, and took a deep inhale—only to burst out laughing.
A deep, unfiltered laugh forced itself out of my belly and echoed across the garden. It bounced against the palace walls and back at me.
The little mouse continues to surprise me.
“You are,” I said with a mock gasp, finally realizing why her silence had seemed so odd. She was intoxicated.
It was so subtle, it was hard to pinpoint, but there was just the tiniest hint of sweet wine on her lips. I hadn’t taken her for a wine drinker. If anything, I would have assumed she preferred something harder, but I guess there were still sides to her that I had no idea about.
She gave me a sly smirk, and a burst of excitement ran through me. So we want to play now, don’t we?
Finally, she was giving me exactly what I wanted from her. Maybe it was a pity move. Or maybe she too realized how little time we would have in each other’s company before the end.
Either way, I wasn’t going to complain.
“Like I said, bachelorette party. Want a taste?”
Fuck. If that invitation didn’t cause heat to blossom in my belly, I didn’t know what would.
“How am I to turn down such a considerate offer?”
My back hit the sharp bark with a thud, Vesper following my movement and sinking into the same tree with a sigh. The taste of her blood was still strong on the tip of my tongue. My entire body felt warm and bubbly.
I feel like I can breathe.
I finally felt how cool the night was. How the sun had fallen long before, and for once, the entire grounds were quiet.
Her blood had calmed my racing thoughts, and I was able to enjoy the peace that my mother’s garden had once brought. I almost wished she hadn’t given me her blood. Because then it wouldn’t feel so much like a goodbye.
“You drank way more than you let on,” I said with a giggle. Heat settled in my body, making it feel light as a feather.
When was the last time I let go like this?
It had to have been years before, when I still went to those blackmail parties for enjoyment. Where I would drink the alcohol-infused blood until I was a giggling mess. Where I would play with vampires and humans alike just because I could.
Where has that Aurelia gone?
Vesper side-eyed me and let out a light huff of a laugh of her own, but suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so amused anymore.
“You ever just think that you’re bad at holding your alcohol?”
I shook my head and leaned into her side. “I’ll have you know I’m great at holding my alcohol.”
A silence fell over us, sobering the mood.
I don’t want to go, I wanted to say. If this place was hell on earth, what kind of place will the new one be?
And lastly…Will you take me away from here?
“Are you sure you won’t take Atlas’s offer?” she asked, her voice low.
“I can’t,” I whispered. I can’t survive out there on my own.
A pitiful, painful realization. It would do me more harm than good if I tried to outrun Father and Prince Icas. I might get away for a few days, but they would find me. Not only that, but I had no clue how to live on my own in the outside world.
That’s why I needed to rely on the people I met throughout my years in the palace.
“Why is your father giving you to them?” she asked, her hand brushing across my lap in search of mine.
I let her take it, if only for the comfort it brought in the moment.
“Apparently, my father owes the Solei family,” I said. “Correction—he stole something. My guess is my mother, given how Icas’s father wants me as a broodmare.”
The flinch that traveled through Vesper was painful. Her hand gripped mine tightly, and her breathing hitched.
I knew the anger well, but instead of feeling the same, I felt…indifference. Acceptance. That was my future, after all.
“But if that wasn’t enough,” I said, letting myself lean into her even further, reveling in the warm body I felt against mine. “Prince Icas is offended. He hates how his father is using him, but he hates the way I’ve treated him even more. Someone he sees as weaker. Someone who belongs under his foot.”
“A scapegoat,” she added.
I nodded, my eyes traveling to the fountain just a few feet away. I didn’t want to say it here. Not with the last remnant of Mother so close. It was insulting. But what did I have left?
“He’s going to wage war,” I whispered. “He’s already recruiting those who pledged themselves to my family by using my name. Using my fucking handmaiden—that snake—to stand in as me during these negotiations as a symbol of my allegiance. He has promised things he can’t keep.”
I let the words settle between us. Did she understand the severity? Had it finally dawned on her why I needed her to kill Father?
Prince Icas had already doomed me. There was no way out, and Father wouldn’t cancel the engagement if I asked him to. Or even believe me with those stepbitches by his side.
They wanted me gone even more than Icas did. There was no telling what else they had planned.
“What is he promising?” she asked.
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Who cares if I reveal a little more? It’s not like I had much time left before Father found out.
“Anything from housing, money, less work, to…dealing with the witches.”
I didn’t know it was possible for Vesper to stiffen even further. Her heart raced at this.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position and turned to her, hoping to catch even a glimpse of understanding in her eyes.
“Do you see it now?” I questioned. Still searching her eyes for any hint that she was on my side. I need you. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but instead, what came out was something entirely different. “Do you see why you have to kill?—”
“What would you do if you could leave here?” she asked. The suddenness of her question was like a slap in the face. Even after everything was revealed to her, she had no intention of helping.
She is a hunter through and through. She grimaced at that word when Atlas used it. Like it was something dirty and shameful…but that’s all I could see in front of me.
A cold-blooded hunter who couldn’t care for anything other than the job she failed to complete.
“I’m trying to tell you why?—”
“What would you do?” she asked again through gritted teeth. My eyes fell to the hand farthest away from me. I hadn’t seen it until that moment. How tightly she was balling it into a fist. The knuckles were completely white, the strength of her grip cutting off the blood flow.
“I want to paint,” I whispered and leaned back against the tree. An unknown emotion caused my throat to strain. “Not just paint. Sculpt. Craft. Make anything that could…”
My voice tapered off in the end. What difference does it make? What will saying any of this mean? But a part of me was grateful for the redirect. Even if it meant letting go of the last bit of hope I had been holding on to.
Because then there would be nothing holding me back. Nothing I said would mean shit in the morning. There was something powerful pulling at my chest. Something begging me to just let the words out. To spill to the person who once dared to consider ending my life.
How pitiful is this? That the last person on earth I should feel safe with provided me the greatest comfort?
“Make someone recognize me. See me.”
More silence. The sound of the wind traveled around us, weaving through the roses and sending some petals flying through the air.
“You’re seen,” she noted, her tone softer than before. “All day, every day, by the vampires in your family. They adore you.”
I let out a sigh and sank back into the tree. The sharp bark digging into my body felt more like a hug than an attack. The alcohol-infused blood was running through my system, relaxing my muscles once again.
It paired well with the hopelessness.
“They adore my mother,” I said. “Not me. I want them to love me. To move families for me. Not because of their loyalty to my mother, and certainly not because Icas has offered them money, or houses, or even decided to declare war on the fucking witches.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“War with the witches?” she echoed, the same horror that I once felt shooting through my chest in her voice.
“That’s what I meant when I said dealing. What did you think I meant?” I said, leaning back into her, letting my fingers brush across the stitches of her uniform.
“I don’t know,” she whispered after a moment. “Something—anything—but that. Vampires should know better. It won’t be a war, it will be?—”
“A massacre,” I finished for her, a bitter smile spreading across my face. “I know. But he seems overly confident because he will use Father’s and my name instead of his. He’s stupid, but brave. There will be more than one casualty in my family, but his death won’t be far behind.”
There was nothing to say to that. It was all out there. And it was even more horrifying than either of us could imagine.
There was a reason that neither vampires nor humans would ever do something as stupid as fight with the witches. They were an anomaly and kept far too close to themselves for either side to ever gain an advantage over them.
“You’ll remember me, won’t you?” I said once the silence became too much. “As the one contract you wanted to kill but couldn’t?”
There was another long silence as another breeze passed through the roses, carrying their scent to us. I hated how good they smelled. Hated that I would probably miss them.
It would have been perfect if she just kept playing along. I could forget about whatever moment we were having and go on to marry the prince because there would be nothing else holding me back. Fully content to forfeit my life.
But she decided to give me the worst wedding gift imaginable.
“I never wanted to kill you, Aurelia. Never.”
Hope. A vile, disgusting sickness that did nothing but ensure a person’s tolerance for the worst. And after her words, the tiniest bit of it sparked in my chest.