Chapter 33
Esiree
We stood before the threshold of my childhood home, my eyes scanning the blackened timber and singed thatch for any piece of the life I had left behind.
The structure remained, but it was scarred; debris littered the garden where my father’s herbs once grew, and the smell of stale smoke hung in the air.
I glanced nervously at Vastion, feeling the pressure of a woman introducing her husband to her family for the first time, despite them having met briefly earlier.
He knocked twice, the sound heavy and official.
My brother answered instantly, swinging the door wide.
“Come in, come in!” Ari said, his voice carrying a forced, hollow friendliness.
Vastion ducked his head to clear the low frame before resuming his full, imposing height.
I waited for a bow, or at least a nod in deference to the king, but they offered neither.
My father surged from his chair by the hearth, and I practically lunged toward him.
But when he stood, he reached for a small wooden crutch to brace himself, stopping me in my tracks.
He began to hobble toward me, his movements strained and slow.
“What happened?” I asked, my eyes darting across his frame for any other signs of injury.
“Oh, don’t fuss over me. I’m perfectly fine! Just a small sprain from all this running about; you know, the chaos and such.” There was an edge to his tone when he said chaos, and I hoped Vastion didn’t notice my father eyeing him with such naked hostility.
“Nile, Aryen, it’s good to see you both again,” Vastion said, his voice warm as he attempted to steer the conversation into calmer waters.
“Is it? And are you the reason my daughter has barely seen fit to write us?” my father asked, the words thick with accusation.
“Stop it, Father. I had intended to write more, but the tour has been demanding, as you well know.”
I cast a pleading look toward my brother, trying to gauge if he intended to be any more hospitable than our father.
“I owe a great debt of gratitude to your daughter,” Vastion intervened. “She has travelled many miles with exceptional grace. I had hoped you might see her in her element as queen, but I regret that our visit to Leto must take a different shape.”
“Oh? Because the town is a smoking ruin?” Ari snarked, crossing his arms.
“I am gravely concerned for the Letorians’ well-being,” Vastion replied, ignoring the barb. “As such, Esiree and I have altered our plans.”
Ari and Father exchanged a skeptical glance.
“I should like for Es to stay here with you, if there’s room, while I lead a party of sentries to stand guard on the outskirts tonight.”
Ari scoffed, “If there’s room? Ha! This may not be Eventide, but it’s still her home. I’m sure she can manage to sleep without silken sheets for a night.”
My patience with them both wore dangerously thin, but I bit back any remarks; the peace between us already a fragile, fraying thing.
Vastion continued to ignore their derision. With nightfall looming and the weight of the coming ceremony on his shoulders, he stayed the course.
“I see where she gets her sense of humor,” Vastion replied, flashing me a fleeting, private smirk. “I must be on my way, but I wish to extend my sincerest condolences for your losses. You have my word: I will do everything within my power to help Leto rebuild.”
He spoke with a sincerity that should have moved them, yet my family met it only with cold, unforgiving hatred.
“We will never be safe until the blight of the Vampyr is scrubbed from this earth,” my father added bitterly as Vastion moved toward the exit.
He turned and looked back at the old man leaning heavily against his wooden crutch. It was a terrifyingly brave thing to say to someone who could end a human life in a heartbeat. Yet, Vastion did not retaliate.
“I know you’ll find this difficult to believe,” he said softly, “but I agree with you.” With that, he again ducked the low frame and stepped down onto the small, covered porch. I followed him out, closing the door on my family’s glowering stares for one final moment of privacy under the overhang.
“I’m so sorry for their behavior,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “They’re just…”
“I know,” he interrupted, forgiveness pooling in his dark eyes.
“I do not begrudge them their sentiment. Not after all this,” he gestured vaguely toward the scorched horizon.
“You will lead with grace in my absence. There is no better voice for your people to hear than yours. It is likely best that I am not there to distract them.”
I hated seeing him this way. The light of unshakeable confidence had dimmed, replaced by a shadow I struggled to name. Failure. I think that’s what it was. He must have felt the burden of every life lost, human and Vampyr alike, as if the blood had been on his own hands.
“Alyric is one of our best. She will be stationed here, at your side, until my return,” he declared, pointing toward a figure clad head-to-toe in leather armor.
“A woman?” I asked, my worry surfacing despite the gloom. “I didn’t even know women served in the Watch. Are you certain?”
Vastion chuckled with amusement. “Ask your brother. I suspect her reputation precedes her.”
A deliberate clink of steel echoed from the shadows nearby, Alyric’s acknowledgement that she had heard my doubts. I felt a flush of heat rise to my cheeks.
I stood before my childhood home, paralyzed by the urge to keep him there.
I didn’t know when I would see him again, and I certainly didn’t share his confidence that I could navigate the coming day alone.
His absence already felt cavernous in my chest. Despite the silent pleading in my eyes, he reached out, cradling my face in his hands to press a lingering kiss to my forehead—a silent vow of return.
As he turned to walk away, the words spilled out before I could stop them. “Vastion! I… I think I—”
My husband turned back, his expression one of pure, raw pleading. “No,” he breathed. “Do not say it while you are fearful. Please. If you do, I might not have the strength to leave your side.”
His request swallowed my voice. I watched until the mist and darkness devoured him, then rejoined my family inside.
I sat beside Father and reached for his hand, asking him if I could bring him anything, but he shooed me away with a sharp grunt. Stubborn as ever.
“Did you see our guardian is a woman?” I asked Ari in an attempt to break the heavy silence.
“Alyric?” Ari scoffed. “I’d hardly call that brute a woman, but yes, I know of her.”
“Are we safe?”
“That monstrosity has more Rabid kills than any other stationed at Leto,” he said, sounding equal parts impressed and annoyed.
Hearing Ari refer to them as Rabids felt like an affront. It was a jarring reminder of how much my vernacular had strayed during my months in the Heart.
“So…Es,” he mocked, drawling the syllable. “Since when does the Vampyr King get to call my baby sister by anything other than her given name?”
“Since you two sent me off to be his bride without a second thought,” I snapped. I wasn’t going to let them escape their part in all of this, even if I could no longer say I regretted it.
“Please don’t bicker, you two, I’m simply grateful to have my daughter under this roof again,” my father said between frequent sips from his flask. “We have important things to discuss, but we must be quiet. She may be listening,” he warned while pointing his finger at the door.
“What of your work?” I asked, leaning in. “I could surmise nothing of substance from your letter.”
“Ah, yes, the letter,” he whispered back. “It was too risky to be plain. Better that we not draw unwanted eyes to your involvement.”
Ari glanced around the room conspiratorially. “We’ve been unable to stabilize the elixir. It won’t hold; its integrity lasts a few hours at most,” he said, looking truly disappointed. Then suddenly his features brightened. “As of late, we’ve shifted to an entirely different endeavor.”
I fought to conceal my shock. Maybe convincing them to abandon their mission wouldn’t be so difficult if they’d already strayed from their original path. “What new endeavor?”
“Father believes we can use Rabid blood against them,” Ari said, his voice barely a breath.
“What do you mean? How could you possibly gain access to their blood?”
Father looked nervous, eyeing Ari warily, as if questioning, ‘Should we tell her?’
“Where?” I pressed, my tone sharpening.
“Mes and I… We’ve been collecting it after the raids.”
“How?” I screeched, the word a runaway on my lips.
“Gods, keep your voice down!” my brother hissed. “We’ve collected some of their limbs and hidden them before they could be burned.”
“Hidden them where?” I asked in disbelief.
“Outside the walls, of course. Just beyond the fence line. Buried. It is too risky to keep them here; the bloodsuckers on Watch might have caught the scent of the rot.”
“You’re mad!” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s dangerous. It’s one of the reasons they burn the bodies. Their blood is tainted; it should not be handled improperly.”
“And how would you know that?” My father leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“I…I’ve heard Vastion and his Council discuss the risks,” I lied. It was a half-truth at best. “If that filth were to enter your own bloodstream, it could be catastrophic. You can’t imagine the risks!”
“I have been a chemist longer than you’ve been alive Esiree. I know what I’m doing.”
“If you knew what you were doing, you’d have pursued a cure!” I lashed out, then realized too late I had backed myself into a corner.
“…A cure?” Ari choked out skeptically. “You would have us help them?”
Anger surged through me. How could he be so brilliant and yet so blinded by his own malice? His hatred had become a cage, and he couldn’t see any logic beyond the bars.
“If you kill the Vampyr, who protects us from the Forlorn? If you make our blood poisonous, they will simply kill you even as you try to starve them. We will still fall victim to the slaughter!”