Chapter Four
In latent terms, “the next moon cycle” he was referring to, was set to occur four days from the dinner from hell.
Which is, today.
Over the past four days, I have been convincing Ivorie to take me for somewhat of a tour around the castle to get acquainted. To her it is just innocent acclimation, to me it is so much more.
I have come to the conclusion that I will not accept being trapped here. No matter what happens, I will find a way out.
She shows me each place while I secretly make mental notes of escape routes along the way. My favorite places so far are the library and the garden. The library because I love to read and will need something to do to pass the time, and the garden because it is the easiest way out of this place.
The garden is where we are currently at for a walk before getting ready for the main event of the evening. Ivorie talks while we walk and I just listen. I ask small questions here and there, but she is still adamant that she cannot tell me much. I like to hear the stories she tells anyways.
Although it took some time, I have warmed up to her. She is the only person I am around all day, every day. I fought it at first, but I eventually grew bored of sitting around not talking. Silence can only be strangely comforting for so long.
I would not say we have formed a friendship, but she is someone to keep the loneliness at bay. Added guilt weighs heavy on me for how I treated her when I first met her, but she does not seem to be holding it against me.
I meet the prince this evening over yet again, another dinner. Hopefully this dinner will have other people in attendance.
I refuse to admit that it is nerves that I feel, but I have had the overwhelming urge to throw up multiple times today. Unfortunately, I do not think they supply my anxiety medication here.
On the bright side, Ivorie has been giving me what she calls a sleeping tonic when I am ready to go to bed, and it has been helping me get through the night without waking.
The days I spent asleep have brought forth insomnia in its place.
I was reluctant to take the tonics at first, but now I cannot imagine sleeping without it.
But now, Gracie does not meet me in my dreams. In fact, I do not remember my dreams at all. They hurt too bad anyways.
As I have started to feel less ill with each passing day, I have been eating more and trying to get comfortable with the thought of drinking blood. Mainly because Ivorie will not take me anywhere unless I eat or drink first.
She did tell me that, thankfully, most of the blood and meat consumed here comes from various animals. Apparently, vampires can live off animal blood.
However, we have to get a certain amount of human blood every now and again to maintain our strength.
I think that I can live with human blood every now and again if I do not know that it is what I am drinking. I have decided this only because the way she explained everything, made me feel a lot better about the drinking blood situation.
The king has many contracts in what she calls the Humanrealm, to obtain blood for the vampires that live here. Various animals and their blood are imported into the kingdom from home.
The contracts also include agreements that no vampires can kill any of the humans in the areas that help supply.
Most of the human blood that is transported here is from willing donors or blood banks.
There are very few humans who know about vampires, but they are apparently compensated thoroughly for their support.
The king it seems, as terrible as he may be, is actually not a terrible king to his people.
Everything is a way to keep peace between the Humanrealm and Etherealm.
Vampires cannot simply go into the Humanrealm on a killing spree for blood.
There are sometimes rogue vampires who come and go into the Humanrealm as they please, but most vampires do not step foot there.
Being around humans takes a lot of restraint.
That explains why so many people do not know about them. Nobody is being bitten.
Nobody but me.
We finish our walk around the garden, which might be the size of a castle in itself.
It contains what has to be at least a hundred different types of flowers.
Some I recognize, and some I have never even seen before.
Some move around on their own, whispering words you can barely hear, and others glow.
A large fountain sits in the middle with a pond full of fluorescent colored fish.
Around every corner is a hedge maze you could easily get lost in.
A perfect opportunity.
“We need to head back up and get you ready,” Ivorie says, looking down at her watch.
I nod and follow her back inside, the walk to my room already starting to feel familiar. With a sigh, I step inside and prepare for the evening.
Ivorie draws a bath, washing my hair before she starts to style it. Once she is finished styling it, she starts on my makeup. Something I will never take for granted.
When all is said and done, she helps me slip into my gown for the evening. The pulling comes to a stop as she finishes lacing the back. I turn toward the mirror, my eyebrows raising at the sight.
The dress is a deep emerald with an embroidered, strapless bodice. It shows a perfect amount of cleavage without being too revealing. The skirt attached is chiffon, flowing all the way to the tips of my toes. A slit runs up my thigh.
My dark hair falls in soft waves to my waist, parted in the middle. Ivorie painted my lips and eyes a nude pink and my cheeks are rosy. My eyes are lined with black, my lashes curled and thick. The bags under my eyes have disappeared and my cheeks are less hollow than before.
“Well, you have really outdone yourself with this one,” I say.
Ivorie looks at me like I am a piece of artwork she has just created. I will give her credit, she knows what she is doing.
“You meet the prince tonight. I had to have you in only the best,” she says.
“I am not sure if I am ready to meet the prince, but at least I will look the part,” I say with a soft smile.
Before we walk out the door, I stop and look at Ivorie through narrowed eyes. “What do you know about this prince?”
She lets out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, I do not know much about him. He is rarely ever here. He has his own staff and keeps to himself, not speaking often to anyone.”
How convenient.
I nod at her and we continue our walk to the dining hall.
There are more people out and about around the castle this evening. I am guessing this is due to the prince’s arrival.
We reach the familiar wooden double doors, but this time there is a man outside waiting to open them.
He is a rather stout man, with a bald spot in the middle of his grey head of hair.
His suit is too tight for his body and his face looks bored.
He nods and bows slightly at the waist as he opens the door.
I reluctantly leave my lady’s maid in the hallway and step through the doorway. With deep breaths, I scan the crowded room, my eyes immediately finding the king’s.
What luck I have.
Our eyes lock and he beckons me toward him. I oblige, doing anything to avoid that terrible feeling again.
The large room is set up different than the last time I was here. Waiters are carrying around trays of what I can only assume are glasses of blood, white wine, and bourbon.
There is also quite the number of people joining us for dinner this evening. I observe each one as I pass, assuming they all must be vampires by the look of them. I have come to notice that vampires have a faint, unnatural glow to them that makes it easier to point one out in a room full of people.
The table is full of what looks to be various options of the rarest meat that you could obtain. There are multiple decanters of what I could only guess is blood. Each color richer than the next.
I suppress the urge to shudder.
I do not see a possible prince in sight, but then again, how would I even know if I have seen him. I have no idea what he even looks like.
He probably is the foulest, most cruel man alive with a face to match his personality and morals.
Everyone I pass stares at me, but I stare right back at them, entranced by each one. I do my best to ignore the whispers and keep my chin up. I guess it is easy for them to spot someone new in their territory.
I come to a stop in front of the king. He is wearing a black button-up tucked into black pants with black knee-high boots. Over his shoulders lies a fur-lined crimson cloak that brushes the ground. On his head is a large solid silver crown lined with blood rubies.
“Good evening to our guest of honor, my son’s new betrothed. So glad you could make it,” the king says loudly.
A show for everyone around us because I, in fact, did not have a choice whether I would be making this evening or not.
The king looks at me with a knowing glint in his eye. I feel the rush of intense pressure flood my body once again and I automatically drop into a low curtsey.
“Oh, the honor is mine. Thank you,” I say flatly.
The room is silent.
The king stares at me with a predatory gleam in his gaze. Someone coughs into their hand, and I see the double wooden doors open from the corner of my eye. I turn my body as much as I can, ever so slightly toward the doors.
Into the room walks the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life.
Certainly, this is not th—
“Oh, my son has finally decided to show his face after his long journey,” the king exclaims.
The prince.
He glances at his father from across the room, takes a glass of bourbon off one of the trays, and continues to walk toward us.