Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amalthea
“So there I am, with her hips above my head and the three pricks around…” Amalthea drawled, enjoying the wide-eyed stares from her audience.
The frost garden was lovely. Flowers, bushes, trees, all carved from ice, encircled the seating area. It made for an intimate setting.
She understood the appeal of a space without men underfoot, but in her personal opinion, a full kingdom was taking it a bit too far.
Still, it wasn’t her place to judge since she had no plans to live there.
And it made it easy to spot who was a native to the northern land—they held on to every word about pricks even after decades, because they were such a novelty.
“And then?” a young vampiress pressed. She’d introduced herself as Lady Kayara.
“And then”—Thea sighed theatrically—“I got a massive cramp in my thigh and screamed so loud she jumped off me. And while I was there massaging my poor leg, the other four kept carrying on. I had to sleep on my own couch!”
Gasps all around, followed by laughter, and Thea laughed with them. It was a comfortable role; not quite a jester, but enough debauched humor to disarm. It gave a sense of intimacy, confiding a story in which she was so utterly mortal. Taken down by a cramp.
There was an art to it, naturally. She had met a couple ladies in her audience on prior visits, meaning she hadn’t been crude enough to say this in front of a crowd of strangers.
It made it seem like she was confiding in distant friends, and the others were lucky enough to overhear—and by proximity, they might be her friends in time too.
The most promising ones—not the young one who was so eager to hear more—she would follow up with in time.
A more subdued cup of tea, trading passages of poetry, an astute comment on politics they couldn’t help but turn over and want to reply to.
Thea played many roles, and she was very, very good at them.
Mercifully, a humble witch wasn’t one of them.
“How cruel,” the young vampiress murmured, horrified between her laughs.
Thea patted her hand. “It was hardly cruelty since I was cheering them on.”
One of the vampiresses leaned closer. “Have you ever been with a vampire?”
Thea winked. “And vampiresses.” Even if she couldn’t have the one vampire she truly wanted.
“Fae?” someone asked.
The fair folk seldom came to this part of the continent. “Surprisingly uncreative lovers,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Voids?”
Amalthea flicked her nails out. “Of course.”
“Shifters?” the eager one asked again.
“Once—well, maybe it counts as twice.” Now there was a bastion of creativity.
“Another witch?”
Thea’s spine stiffened, but she kept an easy smile. Here she was, just a girlish diplomat eager to brag about her exploits as if that were the only way she could seem worldly. “Not yet.” Not ever. She forced her lip to curl up as if that was the next conquest.
As if she didn’t hate them all.
“It’s so hard to meet any witches these days,” one of the younger vampiresses complained.
“The new king has gotten stricter about the borders than the previous ones. I mean, they’ve always been isolationists, but this is extreme. No contact, even when he sends his soldiers to the border taunting us with their wicked blood.”
King Vaughn had sat on the throne for almost forty years, having come into power as a youth and ruling with all the mercy of a winter storm. But for a vampire with a few centuries under their belt, he was still “new.”
Thea took a sip of her tea. Now was the time to be quiet, nothing more than another frosted flower in the garden.
“It’s not like most of us can use magic anyway,” another countered.
“I don’t know, there’s something strange about this king. It’s not like Her Majesty would ever ally with one of them, but there’s normally been at least some correspondence. Now, this upstart seems to press against the borders, as if he has any right to intrude.”
Thea hadn’t grown up with knowing much of interspecies politics. Peasants seldom need to be informed of anything but the tithe collected by the local lord or lady. When she’d arrived at Raphael’s kingdom, a new labyrinth had unfolded, one with shifting walls, centuries in the making.
Centuries of grudges.
With a mortal lifespan, these things were history. For several vampires, they were memory.
Thea’s gaze slid over the crowd. The crowd was losing interest. One of the vampiresses parted her lips, the pause long enough she likely meant to change the topic.
“It’s peculiar, isn’t it?” Thea said, feigning confusion.
“What do you mean?” the vampiress who originally mentioned the king asked.
Thea shrugged. “I mean, you’d think they’d want to trade. They have a monopoly on magic, at least the kind in cards. They could be worthy partners, right?”
The enchanted paper used to imbue magic was strictly controlled by the Crown. If the means of production had ever been common knowledge, it was now lost. It was an abundant enough resource—but the only source of blank cards was Ulryne. Any outside its borders had to be smuggled at a premium.
Thea didn’t know fully how things had been under the previous queen’s reign, but it was apparently a smidge more lenient. Vampires were still unwelcome in witch lands, but there had been correspondence, and occasional diplomatic gifts sent between lands.
Of course, there had been reigns before the strict borders that involved the vampires preying on mortals. That was a part of the history—of memories—that was often tucked away in the vampire lands.
One of the older vampires took the bait.
Lady Essa. Thea had encountered her once or twice over the years, and wasn’t surprised when Essa had set her cup of mead down with a decisive clink.
The old ones really did love setting the record straight.
Even if her body appeared early twenties, Lady Essa had that aged look in her eye that said she’d seen the stars dance across skies over the years.
“They can’t be trusted. Besides, they think they’re too good for the rest of the continent.
One small country, and nothing else matters. Uncultured swine, the lot of them.”
“Present company excluded, I hope?” Thea said lightly. Not that she liked thinking of the witches as her people.
The same witches that had stood by as oracles were driven out, hunted.
“Don’t be silly, girl. Your blood is allied with the western kingdom, is it not? It’s said you even played a role in aiding your king to hunt the scourge down once more.”
Thea nodded, accepting whatever was supposed to pass for praise in those words.
“And now we’re safe for another few centuries,” Lady Essa continued. “But that peace is something we take—it’s not a gift the witches share with us.”
“It’s hard to imagine the abomination is that much of a grievance.
We simply have too much dignity to lower ourselves to squabbles with our southern neighbors,” Kayara said, chin lifted as she faced the older vampiress.
Trying to look dangerous in her own right, as if she could have killed the necromancer herself.
The necromancer none of them realized was still alive.
Thea couldn’t have orchestrated it better. Lady Essa bared her fangs at Kayara. Not a truly aggressive move, more a reminder to know her place. “My sire told me stories of the time of the scourge. The last time the scales were truly tipped in the favor of the witches.”
“Even so, it was just one witch. Surely one witch against three vampire kingdoms is hardly a threat.” Thea smiled at Kayara. See, I’m your ally, the smile said to Kayara. To Essa, it said, I’m a flirtatious dolt and this is a grand opportunity to educate the younger generation.
“The kingdoms were less organized in those days,” Lady Essa said with a sniff. “And the abomination had years and years to hone her powers. All the goddess’s gifts were within her grasp.”
“Her gifts?” Thea asked innocently, hoping her voice betrayed no eagerness. Eka help me, just a bit more…
Dyna appeared at the edge of the garden before the vampiress could reply. “Lady Amalthea, I apologize for the intrusion, but the queen is ready to receive you now.”
Thea cursed a blue streak in her mind and rose from the table with a polite smile. “Wonderful.”