Chapter 24
Vastion
Isuccessfully avoided Esiree until it was time to take supper in my private quarters.
The space, significantly more cramped than the dining room of our home, meant there’d be no escaping her.
She never did understand how her feisty words often pierced through me like a swift arrow.
And I refused to show her. To share any more of myself than I already had.
I gave and gave, but she was still an impenetrable wall, reducing me to duty, as she put it.
I had tried to be accommodating, to be friendly.
To ignore the way I truly felt. But when she so blatantly pointed out what little time we’d have together—just one lifetime—I was quickly delivered into a melancholic spiral.
It was the eternal curse of my existence; being tied to mortal women, only to watch them wither away and leave me behind.
Some had been harder than others to part with.
But Esiree... something told me that when her time came, ‘painful’ wouldn’t remotely cover the wreckage she would leave behind.
It would be a total, unmitigated ruin. I refused to let the reality of her passing take shape, actively forcing the thought away whenever it clawed at the edges of my mind.
She sat across from me, though the distance was minimal given the length of the table. A youthful-looking vampire entered, carrying a plated meal for Esiree and a goblet for me. He placed them carefully to ensure the motion of the ship did not waste even a drop of my ration, and then he exited.
“I will never get used to the Forsaken children,” she said, putting the first bite of dinner into her mouth.
“I’m pleased to hear less crass words are occupying your vocabulary,” I replied, before sipping from my cup. Esiree was human, and as such she’d been raised to hate the Vampyr. She’d also been surrounded by other humans her entire life, and words like ‘Rabid’ were native tongue to her.
Rarely did we ever witness humans refer to us by our preferred name, and even more so to those who had succumbed as Forlorn.
We were Vampyr to them, a name that stripped us of our former human existence.
It was easier for them to ignore that we were once like them.
I was accustomed to the title, but I’d be lying if hearing her say it, even once, hadn’t bloomed hope in me.
“I am most disturbed by their existence. They far surpass me in years but are undeniably childlike. They are children!” she said, her voice slightly elevated.
“I understand how it can feel jarring; I really do. There are many unfortunate outcomes of our affliction.” I sighed, partially wanting to avoid the topic altogether, but always finding myself at the mercy of her curious gaze.
“They are as suspended in time as I am. They will never know what it is to look in the mirror at an adult body. As I will never have the joy of my own offspring.”
Es’s eyes assessed me silently, her gaze boring into me like it had the ability to pluck out my soul on a whim.
“You wanted children?”
I thought for a moment, trying to collect myself before giving her an answer, one that I had wavered on many times throughout my long life.
“Before my affliction, undoubtedly. Now, I would not mock my circumstances with such impossibilities.”
Esiree paused in chewing her food, a tinge of guilt swirling in those icy blue depths.
When she did not speak, I met her question in kind—one of impossibility, knowing we now shared the same childless fate.
But as she wanted to know, so did I. In some alternate lifetime, what were her deepest desires and wishes?
“If you were not wed to a vampire, would you have wanted children?”
She practically choked on her bite. “Why would I have kids? Bring them into this world just to become food?”
Her disgust was not unfounded. But couldn’t she see I fought for a world free of this crude existence? I was wrong to ask, to push. I deserved her revulsion.
“You are right, I apologize for my imprudent question.” More silence followed, just the sound of her fork moving food disinterestedly around her porcelain plate.
“I am doing everything I can to give you the lifetime you deserve. To give back to humans and Vampyr alike the world they deserve, free of the blood affliction. And I swear I will not stop trying, if it takes every lifetime I am granted.” I sighed. “I will never stop.”
Es placed her fork on the table and finally met my gaze. “If you ever promise me anything, let it be that.”
I nodded and stood, taking my empty goblet with me as I made my way toward the door.
In the weeks leading up to our departure, I thought we had made progress.
I had thought there were moments where she was finally softening, finally seeing me for the man behind the crown and the curse.
But these conversations grew heavy with each savage truth she faced.
Ones I had been familiar with for centuries.
Thus, it did not surprise me to see her anger and discontent swell and rage like the waves of an ocean.
“You should get some rest; you’ll want to resume a human schedule for the tour. If you need me, I’ll be up top,” I said while she patted the corner of her lips with a cloth napkin.
At dawn, we entered the inlet of the Morel Sea, south of Muir, and I asked the steward to take my wife her breakfast. I instructed he knock first and not enter unless she welcomed him.
I wasn’t avoiding her, but plenty consumed my mind.
Mainly keeping her safe amidst what were sure to be large crowds of people.
But also, the prospect of testing a new weapon on the nests.
The outcome could significantly sway the war against the Forlorn.
Then again, if the weapon failed, the consequences would be steep.
By noon we had dropped anchor a short distance from the beach and disembarked with supplies and sentries in tow. Upon arrival we were greeted by Muirians who had brought with them a team of horses. Their diplomat greeted us graciously, and his quick assessment of the human queen set him at ease.
“You’re not riding with me?” Es questioned, as I helped her up into the carriage for transport.
“I…I didn’t think that would be your preference,” I admitted.
“Who is going to entertain me?” she offered with a mischievous smile.
“It’s a short ride; I put a few of your books on the seat to keep you company,” I replied, pointing to them on the velvet cushion.
Sitting in the carriage now, she looked to the seat across from her acknowledging the small pile.
“Oh…okay. That will do.”
I gave her a pleased nod and closed the door gently before making my way to the front of the caravan. The Muirian diplomat led us toward the center of town, a journey without interference of any kind, to my relief.
As our group moved through the village, we were met with a wall of whispers, scowls, and eyes heavy with skepticism and fear. But as we approached the main thoroughfare, a sudden, joyful roar erupted a short distance behind us.
I pulled my reins, turning my horse to face the rear, and found Esiree leaning from the carriage window, smiling and waving to the commoners.
Small children had begun to sprint alongside the wheels, their short arms outstretched with flowers for their new queen.
Even from a distance, I could see the warmth of a blush flooding her cheeks as she gathered every bloom she could reach while the carriage continued its relentless roll forward.
I let the group continue ahead as I held my horse steady, waiting for her carriage to reach my position.
On both sides, more people lined the streets, and with each passing wave they enthusiastically bowed in deference to her.
Quite a drastic difference from the almost unnoticeable head nods and dipped chins I received at the front.
I gave my horse a gentle kick, staying close to the carriage so I could exchange words with her.
“You’re quite the natural,” I commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the territories react in such a manner.”
Esiree smirked. “Never send a king to do a queen’s job!”
I let out a hearty laugh. “Keep your confidence, my dear, you’re going to need it.” I smiled back at her and then directed my steed into a gallop back to the front of our procession.
The Muirians would have gone to great lengths to extend a royal welcome, had we required it, but Orin and Mina counseled the territory leaders against it.
Within a couple hours we had our own tents assembled, including mine and Esiree’s.
For the same reason the Harvest made me nervous, tents did little to protect from an attack.
A wooden structure still wouldn’t stop the Forlorn, but it would buy the humans time.
I would make sure that there was constant surveillance around our tent, regardless of the hour.
The leader of Muir greeted Esiree enthusiastically, and she went about introducing herself to his head table with the ease of a fully tenured politician.
When we entered, I saw their Tribute, Roxelana, and I walked over to greet her and her family.
The idea of ignoring them entirely seemed rude.
When I returned to my seat, Esiree bore a strange expression. Dare I muse it was a hint of jealousy?
“Nothing like going on a tour to see your husband’s former consorts,” she quipped, eyeing me accusatorily.
“Jealousy is unbecoming of a queen. And if you’re so inclined to know, that tall, handsome man to Roxelana’s left is her newly betrothed.”
In an effort to conceal her relief, she snarked, “Oh, I will be sure to convey my heartfelt congratulations.”
“Speaking of former consorts, will I get to meet this special conquest of yours when we visit Leto? Or did he hail from another territory?” Though I asked, I only did so because verbal sparring was our love language, and she lured me into these quarrels with ease.
In truth though, I was reluctant to hear her answer.