8. Beating
CHAPTER EIGHT
Beating
The festivities continued, and the men only became louder, obnoxiously so. Those near the end of the table bantered and cackled among themselves, as did the other clusters gathered around.
‘You know, I have never been inside someone’s mind like this.’
Not one twitch of an expression came with Cassiel’s words in my head. He had been providing me with simple quips as the conversation flowed around us.
Since Vaner had me standing beside him, I had nothing better to do than study the various foods strewn across the table.
A thick turkey, a hog with an apple in its mouth, another mound of meat at the end.
All of the food had been carved into. Sides consisted of various greens, potatoes cooked differently, and other dishes.
‘Lord Horveau was wed to the brunette beside him, but wanted the woman on his other side. So he keeps a mistress.’
And sometimes Cassiel dropped vital information I did not know about, just like that one.
Lord Horveau sat in the furthest corner, leaning over to speak to another council member. Many surrounding him seemed to be leaning close, riveted by the conversation. A quick sweep told me there were eleven council members present. All complicit in evil.
Lord Horveau’s son, Duke Rowek, had always spouted vitriol about redbloods.
Now it was clear. He likely knew about all of this.
Lord Dillon leaned forward, hand falling on my waist. Before I could stop myself, I leveled a glare at him, angling my hips away so he could no longer reach me. He burst into laughter.
“She is quite feisty,” he slurred, the sour smell of alcohol on his breath.
“I expect nothing less knowing who her father was,” Vaner added, leaning forward, elbows slamming on the edge of the table with a bang that rattled the plate before him. He knew my father?
My stomach dropped to the ground.
Many annums had passed since I had been with my parents.
I had seen no more than nine annums when we were parted.
My recollections from my time with them were nothing but flashes.
Mother telling me to leave Piper at home.
Moving to the countryside. Father explaining that Piper must be hidden and I must obey.
Chasing my younger brother through the stable.
Past that, all I could recall was the sound of screaming and the crunching of bones as Hollows devoured them.
“She is why Baron Ixchelca refused my offer to continue serving the Kingdom. She is why they disappeared to the countryside. I did not know it at the time.” Vaner tossed the drink back.
My father was one of the Elites? A Baron?
The title sat in the pit of my stomach like a stone.
With each realm there was one Marquess, Duke, Earl, Viscount, and Baron. All meant to serve with the officers assigned to their region and report back to the Kingdom. All meant to maintain order in the name of the Kingdom.
“Refill,” Vaner slurred, jabbing the glass toward me. I could not let myself falter now.
“Yes, my lord,” I mumbled and poured more alcohol into his glass.
“Then bring me more, stupid girl,” Lord Cedric shouted at Vera who held an empty pitcher.
Her lips moved around the words, ‘Yes, my lord.’ With the noisiness, I could not hear her through the merriment.
“I have you, Lord Cedric Tagon,” Vaner announced. “Go serve him,” he said to me loudly.
I did not hesitate, shuffling around the back of his seat. My attention snagged on Drusilla who was combing her fingers through the back of Cassiel’s hair. She behaved as if he were a child of a few annums.
‘I should have known Drusilla was my mother. She was always much too interested in my whereabouts. I had believed she was in love with me.’
There was a sardonic tone to his words.
It was rather odd. The man I heard in my head seemed softer than the Cassiel I was used to.
Lord Tagon kept watching me.
“Like what you see, Lord Tagon?” Lord Dillon jeered. “You courted Lady Ixchelca. Does the redblood look like her?”
Lord Tagon cleared his throat, shifting on his seat with visible discomfort.
He continued studying me as I crossed to Lord Cedric’s side.
Ida, who sat upon Lord Cedric’s lap, waved the glass up, her eyebrow twitching.
I placed the lip of the pitcher near the glass and skillfully poured until it was a little more than halfway.
Lord Cedric leered at me from where he watched. “Refill my new bride’s glass,” he ordered.
“Here you go, my love,” Ida purred, holding the glass to his lips. He took a drink and Ida caught his mouth with a moan. I moved around him to his other side where Miriam sat, stoic. She caught my gaze, hers wide and searching.
Her new husband had another woman on his lap, while she watched with her face leeched of color but lacking surprise. Did she know of her father’s demise at the hands of Vaner’s orders?
Miriam held her glass closer to her lap, forcing me to bend lower to pour wine into it.
“Please, you have to help me.” Her fingers tangled with my sleeve.
I stilled while opposing emotions swelled and clashed. She had betrayed me so fundamentally that I could not help but want nothing to do with her. Then there was the other side. Pity and the affection I had for her.
After all, she was so incredibly young . . .
I fought the urge to hug her and assure her we would get out of this.
On one hand, showing anyone, much less Vaner, that I cared for another person here would only give them more fodder to use against me.
On the other hand, she had betrayed me. A stab in the back so succinct that she destroyed everything.
If I had managed to escape that day, Piper would still be alive.
“Get me away from here. Please, Amara.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
I hesitated.
‘Do not think it.’
I clenched my teeth until it hurt.
‘If you attempt anything, we will be locked away. We will have a harder time escaping.’
I loathed that he made sense.
I released a slow breath and placed my hand over her wrist, pushing it off as I said, “You must endure.”
That was all I could give her. All I could muster.
I straightened, trying to ignore the way she looked at me.
Her lips opened and closed as if completely stunned by my response.
I wanted nothing more than to give in to her pleas.
But I would not risk worsening my case, not when I must find a way to escape.
Her crestfallen expression seared itself in my mind.
“Wife!” Lord Cedric shouted.
I stepped back slightly to free the view to Miriam. Ida had moved more to Lord Cedric’s other thigh, which freed his arm enough to reach over and place his palm on my lower back. I tensed, studying slackened handsome features hosting a thin nose and golden locks.
“I heard this one was your lady’s maid. Mm, I can not wait to smell the full force of you Awakened.” He slid his palm down to my bottom and squeezed. My lips pulled tight.
“Do not!” Cassiel’s sudden and violent booming shout sliced through the merriment.
Everything around us froze. The laughing, the slurping, the chatter—it all came to a standstill.
“You are much too young to understand, Lord Cedric, but you tempt death,” Vaner said, sounding more amused than concerned.
“Warlords are especially . . . let’s say, possessive over redbloods.
The first Warlord designation to appear nearly destroyed every blueblood in Oro before we put it down.
Each time there has been an Awakened redblood near a Warlord, it maddens them. ”
Lord Cedric put both hands up, eyes forming half-moons because of his wide smile. I had yet to look at Cassiel, but his silence seemed to pulse.
“Just like one of them Warlords from this batch, what was the name of the one we had to put down?” Lord Dillon slurred. I took the opportunity to take my leave. Each step I took away from Miriam dragged.
Vaner’s smile widened.
“Volcan.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “He had that Awakened redblood and cut down the Battalion I had sent to retrieve them.” He shook his head. “If only we did not have a need for Warlords at all.”
Since I faced Cassiel, I had a direct view of the tension compounding as his eyebrows drew tighter.
“Yet, we do, and His Highness has served as the perfect weapon,” the Southern Sycarious man to the other side of Lord Dillon’s wife said.
“Hear hear!” Lord Dillon shouted, holding up his tankard of mead.
Shouts of agreement hung over the crowd, then the chatter and merriment continued.
I bowed my head and returned to the spot beside Branwen.
Vera had joined us on her other side. We stood, each holding the pitchers as they continued drinking and eating, increasingly becoming more and more inebriated.
This was how they kept their power; each took control of different sections of Sycarious. Meanwhile, Vaner coordinated it all.
‘I will revel in their deaths.’ It was the first thing Cassiel had said in a while.
I scanned all the faces as it became chaotic, a sort of frenzy building in their energy. Most of the women seemed stoic, all except Miriam and the one at Lord Dillon’s side. Her eyes flicked from side to side often, and she kept shifting on her seat as if she might run at any moment.
“More, redblood,” Vaner called, snapping his fingers. I reached his side and poured. Branwen’s shout came from across the table. Another of the council seated at the other end had his hand on Branwen’s bottom, groping. Terror crossed her face. My fingers seized around the pitcher.
‘Do not,’ Cassiel ordered.
I finished pouring into his glass, hands shaking as I withdrew.
“Is something amiss?” Vaner mused, catching my arm. His fingernails dug into my skin with a pinch.
I could not smooth the pain from my face in time.
“Lord Vaner!” Cassiel boomed.
Focus swung in our direction. I did not miss the flashes of fear across the council and their companions. Vaner’s eyes narrowed.
“Do not touch her.” Cassiel’s order came with all the derision imbued from centuries of being an Elite.