Chapter 13
Esiree
The ache of want between my thighs lasted far longer than I cared to admit.
I considered relieving myself of the torment, but instead tossed and turned, nervous that he might return while I slumbered.
That morning, I awoke to loud knocks on my door.
I ignored it, trying to get a few more peaceful hours of sleep, until I heard the door open.
Next came the familiar cranking sound of the velvet drapes being opened, and my tired eyes fluttered open to discover yet another man in my room.
Abruptly, I pulled the covers close to my body and screeched, “What are you doing in here?!” as Commander Orin walked nonchalantly to my bedside.
When he did not respond, I questioned him again. “How dare you enter without my permission… And when I’m indecent, no less!”
Orin let out an unimpressed laugh. “Esiree, after seeing the dress you wore last night, I’m the last man you’ll convince of your propriety.”
“When Vastion finds out about this…” I threatened.
“Vastion is the reason I’m here. He’s been briefly called away to look into signs of a new Forlorn nest—where I should be at his side, offering my protection. Instead, I’ve been ordered to keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a nursemaid,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “I can handle myself.”
Orin began to circle the bed slowly, assessing me like I was prey.
“Your defiance, endearing as it may be to Vastion, must be quelled. Were you mine, I’d have tied you to the bedpost and flogged it out of you.
And before you begin crafting some scathing retort, know this: You are not the first human queen within these walls, and you will not be the last. The sooner you learn how to adapt to your new surroundings, the easier it will be. ”
Vastion’s reason for being away was far more important than bickering with his whipping boy. What if the nest was near Leto? “Where is he headed? Have the Rabids migrated?”
“Stop calling them that!” he snapped at me. “You will no longer refer to them as such in the presence of Vampyr. It’s crass and unbecoming of your position. They are the Forlorn.”
My patience with him was nearing its end. “Ahh, so you’re my nursemaid and my teacher?”
“It’s adorable the way you humans love to give things names and spread rumors.
Over the years, it has so frequently changed.
” Orin walked toward the door, ignoring my quip.
“Lailanor will be here momentarily to help ready you for the day. She will bring your breakfast as well, since Vastion will not be here to join you. I will return later and continue your…education.”
Orin did return, as promised, and I was reluctant to part ways with Lailanor, who had a more malleable disposition than the commander.
I wouldn’t say she and I were becoming friends, not by any means, but she had been the kindest of any Vampyr thus far.
Mina and Orin were different sides of the same coin, and it made me wonder if they weren’t fucking behind Vastion’s back.
Commander Orin eyed me up and down when I greeted him at the entrance to our chambers.
“What? Are there rules that the queen has to wear a dress?” I said, feeling his judgement of my attire. “If I’m to be climbing stairs all morning, this is a much better option—unless Vastion told you to carry me?”
He grumbled and shut the door behind me, leading us away from the royal wing.
All morning, he navigated us throughout the maze of the castle.
I’d need a Gods-damned map if I was expected to make it around on my own, though that may never occur.
I tried to make note of various landmarks that would help me remember which way we had come from, but the Heart was truly confounding.
Perhaps the most distracting part of this tour were the constant remarks made by the citizens as we passed by.
I may not have had their keen senses, but I certainly wasn’t deaf.
“Why am I held to some standard of etiquette when every passerby freely makes rude remarks? Am I not their queen?”
“You have not yet earned their respect,” Orin answered plainly, continuing onward.
“And how exactly do I go about that?” I asked, knowing I’d much prefer if Vastion just demanded they respect me.
He halted till I caught up to his side. “They can smell your hatred and discomfort. That is not something you can fake. You will never earn their loyalty until you stop looking at us like we are animals.”
“You are animals!” I snapped before I could think better of my response. “Your kind attacked my mother!”
Those around us glared in my direction, and their hushed whispers continued as they walked away with disgusted expressions. But I didn’t care. That was the truth I was fighting for—humanity’s truth. We were tired of being food.
“I assume you mean the Forlorn. We are not them. They made a choice, the wrong choice. One that each of us must continue not to make, every day of our eternal lives.”
“Tell yourself whatever you need to,” I retorted.
“Esiree, if I can impart any wisdom to you, it’s this: We were human before this. Just like you. We didn’t ask to be turned. What would you have us do? Simply give up? Surrender to our circumstance?”
He had a point. I let the question linger without argument.
Most of Orin’s tour stops were frivolous in nature.
A giant gallery displaying paintings of staggering variety.
The breadth of my hand could have scarcely fit anywhere on the wall without touching one of the gilded frames.
The paintings were like brief glimpses into lifetimes past. Simple things that the Vampyr no longer took part in, like tending to the land and the animals.
So many moments captured that they could no longer claim as their own: the birth of a baby; small children circled around the hearth on Solstice; feasts honoring the joust’s champion; a young boy running through a field with an energetic dog by his side.
To them, this room must have felt like a bitter reminder of what they no longer had, but to me it felt like a haven to remind myself of what life was like back home.
Orin waved us onward as my eyes continued to scan as many paintings as I could take in.
Feeling slightly overwhelmed and homesick by it all, I reminded myself this sentimental feeling would not serve me in staying hardened and focused.
Many of the tunnels we explored were loops, perhaps with one or two dead end offshoots along the way.
If Orin’s goal was to intimidate me into not exploring alone, he was succeeding.
Each time I felt like we would make a left, he would veer to the right, and vice versa.
Suddenly, his demeanor shifted, and he instructed me to stay close before leading me down another seemingly identical tunnel entrance.
However, the path steepened and soon became cold, the air afoul with a brackish stench.
He spoke, as if anticipating my forthcoming question. “I am taking you to the Sanguine Reservoir. You will not ever need to return there but consider it part of your formal education.”
Orin led us down spirals upon spirals of torchlit narrow steps, and I came to regret not bringing a water skin with me.
The trickling sound of liquid greeted us when we reached the bottom.
Before me was a flooded cavern, the depth of which I could not surmise.
I couldn’t fully make out the details, but there were no exposed roots or stalactites as we’d seen elsewhere.
A small rowboat with a lantern tethered to it sat at the water’s edge.
Orin stepped in and held out his hand to help me do the same.
I sat in silence while he rowed us to the other side.
When we reached it, we were greeted by two armed, hooded figures guarding a doorway. Their eerie silence conveyed a calculated violence.
“These are the Vault-keepers. They are sworn to protect our most precious resource with their lives,” Orin explained.
He then made an oddly particular set of motions with his hand that I tried to commit to memory.
As soon as he lowered his hand, the Vault-keepers stepped aside, and Orin pushed open the large set of doors.
He closed them behind us as we entered another sanctum.
He lifted the solitary torch on the wall and held it to an indention in the stone.
Suddenly, the flame spread in a uniform pattern that outlined the entire room, bathing it in warm light.
My nose scrunched as the pungent scent assaulted me.
It was metallic, sickeningly sweet. That’s when I saw the massive pool in front of me.
Shaped like a giant rectangle, it spanned the room, end to end—and within it sat a thick, dark red liquid.
I covered my mouth in disgust. “Is that what I think it is?”
“This is the Sanguine Reservoir. It is the culmination of your people’s Vassal donations. From here, we properly ration and deliver it to our sentries who protect the human territories, as well as feed the citizens of the Heart.”
I didn’t know how to feel about the scene before me.
Hundreds of gallons of blood just sitting there in the depths of this cave.
The thought of how many donations had contributed to creating such an abomination turned my stomach.
Unable to express my true feelings on the matter, I instead began to mull over otherwise meaningless details.
“Why do you bother transporting it all the way here before giving it to your sentries?”
“I thought you weren’t interested in learning anything?” Orin responded. I remained silent, unwilling to be antagonized. “The reservoir is used not only as storage, but it also allows it to settle, ridding it of the contaminants.”
“That’s disgusting. It’s not wine,” I said before Orin interjected.