Chapter Thirty-Two
Of course the answer was yes, she’d mate t’On.
Like that was ever a question? If it saved her parents’ lives? And everybody else’s?
Although this was mostly about her parents.
As Denne let herself into her private quarters, she shut the door and walked over to her little loveseat in a daze. When she went to sit down, the robe she’d put on ballooned out in all directions, and that was when the color’s meaning came back to her.
Navy blue was mourning.
Well, didn’t that fit.
Her hands shook as she reached up to the short collar to undo the tie and the first of the pearl buttons. When that felt like more effort than she had to give, she let her arms flop down. She was staring at the damp bottom half of the robe as the knock came, and she almost didn’t answer it.
“Yup, I’m here.”
Was she really, though?
t’On opened the way in. He was back with the robing, and the royal purple color with its beautiful sterling silver embroidery was no mistake. A mating was imminent, and she heard chatter out in the hall, the whispers excited as courtiers rushed around with the fresh gossip.
Word traveled fast.
He closed them in together. When she didn’t say anything, his eyes gentled out of their normal reserve. “You’re doing the right thing. You have chosen the correct path.”
Like there had been any decision to make?
“What about you?” she asked roughly.
“As I told you, my loyalty is to the Territory.”
She wanted to remind him that it had been to her mother earlier, but that seemed bitchy.
“We shall have to get you out of that robe,” he said.
Denne traced his handsome dark face, and told herself she could do this. There were so many worse fates than mating someone who was as physically appealing as him—and as a bonus, getting to save your parents, your community, your entire way of life and traditions? Right?
Just sign me up, she thought grimly.
“It’s wet,” he said, as if she wouldn’t know if he didn’t tell her. “Your robing is wet.”
As she looked him up and down, a chill went through her body. This arrangement was going to come with obligations of the physical variety—and she hadn’t considered that. She’d been too busy measuring all of the top-line pressures.
“Denne?” t’On prompted. “May I help you with your robing?”
Given his polite patience, it was clear he didn’t mean anything in a sexual fashion. At least not right now.
“I’ll do it later.” She massaged her aching temples. “So, we need to get planning for the ceremony.”
“Yes.” He inclined his head. “It will take a little time to prepare for the great event—”
She surged up from the cushions and crossed the distance between them. Before t’On could react, she took his face and brought him down to her mouth. As their lips met, she tilted her head, and kissed him like she meant it.
The instant stiffness in his body told her everything she needed to know.
And what a relief.
Breaking the connection, she nodded and stepped back. “Good.”
As she turned away and went back to where she’d been sitting, she was aware she’d shocked him, but come on. Surely he’d done the math on exactly how heirs happened. And it definitely made it easier if sex was just a biological function for him, too.
“So, you were saying.” When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “About getting ready for the ceremony?”
He remained utterly frozen.
“Just so we’re clear,” she said, “I am prepared to follow through on this. But I am not in love with you, and I don’t expect you to be in love with me.
Frankly, it’s easier if we just keep this a transactional arrangement.
And I am not going to be bearing any young anytime soon.
I’m going to continue to go to Sal’s, I am going to live my life, and you are going to continue to serve my mother, your Queen. ”
A hard expression came over his face. “No, you will be my mate, and you will prepare to take over the throne. As such, you will comport yourself in a respectful fashion.”
“No, I will continue to live my life, and that will mean I am going to Sal’s to do my job, and my mother will—”
“That ‘job’ is not part of your destiny.” His eyes flashed peridot. “It is beneath your dignity, and even if it were not, it is unacceptable to me that my shellan interdigitates with the outside world of humans. There has already been too much of that lately.”
Denne cocked a brow. “I thought we were compromising.”
“Not to that extent. Humans are our enemies, or has that not been made clear? If they are not a direct threat themselves, they are the feeder system for inductions to the Lessening Society. We need to isolate and protect ourselves, and your continuing to go out, night after night, and be around them—”
“Keeps me fucking sane, okay?” She leaned forward. “And if you want me to do this, you’re going to relax with the demands.”
“I am not asking you to do anything. You are choosing to save the—”
She shot back to her feet. “I’m not choosing shit!
Are you kidding me? I haven’t been able to choose anything my whole fucking life, and that is not changing now.
No offense—and I mean that—but I don’t want to mate you, and honestly, I don’t really care about the s’Hisbe, either.
This is about my parents and that goddamn chart. ”
He recoiled in offense. “You do not care about the tradition that bore forth your very existence?”
“My parents’ love did that, thank you very much. Not the Terri- tory.”
“How can you…” t’On seemed to short out. But then a hard expression came over his face. “This is what the modern world has wrought.”
“Excuse me?”
“You go out there, you interact with humans, other vampires, and it contaminates your heart, your mind, until you are—”
“You want to talk about choice? I’d say that you should choose your words very carefully right now.
And there is nothing wrong with finding things outside these walls to do, to learn, to know.
It’s the way we will survive into the future.
We have to understand the world we’re in, not just withdraw and expect everything to be okay. ”
“No.” t’On’s eyes raked up and down her. “You are a product of the very thing that must be stopped if we are to survive.”
“We are surviving. The more we learn to make the outside work for us, the better off we’ll be. The Black Dagger Brotherhood and King Wrath have struck the right balance.”
“You get this from your father.” t’On’s mouth flattened. “Your sire has too much contact with the Brothers and that King because of your uncle. They are not the example we want to emulate.”
“What the hell are you talking about—”
t’On put his hand up, and seemed to make a concerted effort to gather his self-control. “Let us not argue. None of this matters anyway.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m all for that. You stop trying to fit me into a hole, and we’ll get along just fine. Keep talking shit like this, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”
There was a long silence. “I shall not let that happen.”
“Attaboy.”
Except then she told herself she had to chill, too.
They were going to be stuck together for a very long time, so there would need to be some meeting in the middle ground.
But what that was not going to include was her being plugged into the tradwife socket just because he wanted to live in the nineteen hundreds.
“Look, t’On, I don’t want to argue with you, I really don’t.” Denne let her head fall back. “We are going to get along, and we’re going to keep things together.”
She was actually talking to herself here: He could back out, too, after all. There were limits to duty, even for a male like him, and although she wasn’t about to sacrifice herself on the altar of good-little-girls, she didn’t want to offend him so much that he fucked her off.
Besides, eventually she would be Queen and have all the power anyway.
“Tell me about the ceremony preparation.”
t’On closed his eyes like he was willing to try as well. “I shall see to everything, and ensure that it happens as soon as possible.”
“So like a month or two?”
“Oh, no. A couple of nights is all I shall need.”
“Great.” Fuck. “That’s just… really great.”
There was an awkward moment, then he bowed to her, turned, and left.
After the door was shut again, she realized that he had not backed out, as was the tradition. Courtiers and servants were never supposed to present their heels to the Queen or the heir. For a male who was supposedly into tradition, he was clearly capable of tossing some things out.
Then again, she’d been kind of a bitch.