Call me Rhazien
Hours later, Alba found me poring over the text on my fireside emerald loveseat. Dommik had excused himself to hallway patrol, and I was enjoying a small plate of cheese and crackers while I studied the portraits of famous vampires, past and current.
“Is that a text from the Sanctum of Knowledge, Lady Reyva?” the chambermaid inquired from under her gray veil.
“Yes, my assignment from Master Wrymark.” I lifted the text to show her the cover title. She squinted from a few feet away and I realized I shouldn’t have assumed she could read.
“Nobles and Notables,” she recited flawlessly.
An educated woman, a chambermaid of the Hive. Curious.
So much perplexed me about the Hive. These weren’t the blood-drenched dungeons of my imagination. Feral demons didn’t wander the halls. The Hive was well-kept. Even those in service, like Alba, seemed in good health and spirits.
“His Majesty is hosting a ball to welcome me here and I’m to memorize as much information as possible beforehand.
” I returned my attention to the current page featuring one of the original sisters, Ruelle Eldritch.
Her hypnotizing, regal posture, large eyes, and full lips intrigued me.
Men have claimed seduction by females far less fair than her.
And she was the warrior queen—a woman all other legends were born from.
Something foreign within me envied her reputation.
“A ball! How exciting,” Alba chirped before disappearing into my bedchamber. It was exciting, and nausea-inducing.
I turned the page over and came face to face with the regent of the Northern Hive, Eryx Morvain. I read his title again: Northern Hive. There were other Hives.
I rubbed my temples as the onslaught of information engulfed my mind.
Multiple Hives. Multiple regents. Multiple courts. At least one more community, if it was the only other one.
Growing up, we’d only ever heard rumors about the Hive. Not Hives. My questions gave birth to more questions, and I wished I had a quill to write them all down for Oddo’s next lesson.
In the meantime, the sinister eyes of the Northern Hive regent leapt off the page.
While many faces had blended together, his burrowed into my mind.
It was terrifying and handsome. Maybe that was a requirement for being appointed regent of a Hive.
Although Rhazien wasn’t as terrifying in person as his reputation led me to believe.
I shook my head and reminded myself I didn’t know him well enough to make a final judgement.
His portrait glared at me from its page, continually pulling me from the extensive details of the glowering vampire.
I wondered if that was actually his face or if the artist had taken certain liberties with the portrait.
Either way, I decided I’d learned enough about Eryx for one day and turned the page to someone less intimidating.
I sighed.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Lady Reyva?” Alba offered.
“Vampire history is just too vast. There’s too much to know.” I nibbled at my thumbnail, a terrible habit my mother always hated. As if her ghost had walked in, catching me in the act, I dropped my hand. “Could you—would you mind—”
Alba’s gray robes floated across the space with an easy elegance. More and more with her mannerisms and movements, Alba revealed her story to me.
“Whatever you need.” Her kind, fawny eyes sent a wave of calm over me.
Had we met before? Perhaps at court? Is Alba her real name? Did she recognize me?
I shook away the inquisitive spiral and simply smiled as I patted the open space next to me on the loveseat. “Please test me. I need to see if I’m actually retaining what I’m reading.”
“Oh my, this text is…extensive,” she said as she thumbed through the pages.
I narrowed my eyes, assessing her reaction. “Are you familiar with vampire history?”
She bobbed her head. “I’ve picked up bits here and there from overheard conversations and have pieced some of it together, but I’ve never studied it.”
As a lady of a house, I knew life could be far more comfortable when you built a relationship with your staff, and the way her eyes devoured every detail on the open page was intriguing. I couldn’t help but ask, “How long have you been of service to the Hive?”
Her brown eyes raised to mine but darted to the fabric of the sofa again, calculating. “Um, well, seven years this Solstice.”
I fought my jaw from falling but couldn’t stop my eyes from widening at her response. Seven years. A blink in time for a vampire. She seemed so young.
“Seven years.” I rubbed my chin then let my fingertips fall down my neck, stopping at my collar as I asked, “How did you end up here? I’m sorry, that’s probably not an appropriate question.”
“No, it’s fine,” she assured. “It’s not a pleasant story, but it’s one I’m at peace with.”
I adjusted myself, tucking my feet beneath me and leaning in, ready for any detail she would give me.
“My father was a gambler. One day, an Illica messenger sent word to Bromport that the Crown was offering a small hoard of coin for any volunteers to go to the Hive. My father practically salivated at the sum. Between my older brother and myself, I was the easier child to give away. So, here we are.”
She spoke so evenly, like she’d become numb to the devastation of being given away. My chest tightened with my heavy heart.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
She blinked away a flash of sadness and said, “Thank you, but it’s okay. It’s a better life here, honestly. Comfortable living quarters, consistent meals, a reasonable amount of freedom outside of service.”
My gut told me she was sincere, but my mind didn’t want to accept it.
I’d been conditioned to believe everything about the Hive was horrible and that relinquishing yourself to it was some great sacrifice for the mortals of Atoris.
But here was Alba, existing more comfortably under Rhazien’s court than she ever would under the Crown.
“So…” I leaned in another inch and whispered, “...you’re not afraid. Of living here. Surrounded by vampires?”
Alba’s eyes lit up. “I was. And if I can speak freely?”
“Please.” It’s all I wanted. Like she was offering a table scrap to a hungry stray.
“They have been kinder to me than I ever experienced in my childhood in Bromport. They haven’t…they haven’t committed offenses others back home felt so free to commit.”
I held back the urge to pry further.
“Thank you,” I said, laying my hand on hers. I gave the chambermaid a squeeze and asked, “Have you been allowed to see your brother since coming here?”
The fireplace crackled, filling the silence of Alba’s hesitation. She cleared her throat and said, “I have not seen him since.”
“I’m so sorry.” She nodded silently and blinked away another tear. I noted that her brother was a sensitive topic. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Anything.” Alba sat up straighter.
“How can you tell them apart? Humans and vampires? When they don’t show their fangs, I mean.” I tapped my own teeth for dramatic effect.
Alba lifted her hand and gestured to her face. “It’s in the eyes. When they turn, their soul is replaced with a shadow. And when they’re hungry or feeding, the shadow takes control.”
I shivered thinking of the onyx pits of Vaspar’s eyes when he tasted me. The spot where he’d sliced and licked might have been healed by Rhazien’s blood, but the unwanted memory cast a phantom, claustrophobic whisper across my thigh.
“So, what do you think?” I asked, changing topics was my top talent at the moment. “Can you help me with this?”
She let out a small grunt as she lifted the text. “I couldn’t properly tutor you, but I can test you on the contents of this text.”
“That’s perfect, thank you.” I sat up a bit straighter, ready to face the questions, ready to get most of them wrong.
Alba and I were caught in a fit of laughter when Gorvin entered my chamber. Dommik even poked his head in but promptly excused himself once he determined the sounds of women bonding weren’t a threat.
We’d been concocting silly nicknames based on traits or words that rhymed with the nobles and notables of vampire history as a memorization tactic. Our latest victim was Lord Arthur of Trolle who, unfortunately for him, did in fact resemble a troll.
“I’d asked for your whereabouts, Alba, but see now you’ve been otherwise detained.” Gorvin looked down his slender nose at the two of us.
We exchanged a cautious glance and I let out an involuntary snicker as I said, “I asked her to help me with my studies, Lord Hale. I’m so sorry for keeping her.”
“No, no.” Gorvin raised his hands apologetically. “Alba’s duties are to serve you. But um—” The steward shifted his weight. “You’re not dressed for dinner.”
Alba jumped from her seat as if she were a loosed arrow. “Come, come. We’ll just be a few minutes. Apologies, Lord Hale.”
We scurried to the bedchamber and giggled like sisters as we chose a comfortable ruby-hued gown for dinner.
“I’m so nervous,” I admitted as she pulled the laces of my corset.
“Trust me, Lady Reyva.” She gently spun me to face her twinkling eyes between the strips of gray fabric. “You have nothing to worry about.”
I didn’t know what overcame me, but I threw my arms around her. The appreciative embrace caught her off guard, but after a moment, her arms wrapped around me. As we parted, she gave my shoulders a squeeze and looped my arm through hers.
Heart full, I strode to the sitting area and halted with the sight of the vampire regent.
“You didn’t open your gifts.” Rhazien wandered through my sitting room.
Alba and I dropped into a synchronized curtsey. “Your Majesty.”
“Rise, rise. This is your room after all.”
Dressed to impress, Rhazien wore a deep green tunic threaded with golden vines. Its cut hugged his broad build, again making me wonder if he’d been a laborer before he’d turned.
Gray robes skirted the edges of my vision as Rhazien took my hand in his. “I adore this color on you,” he said, placing a kiss on my knuckles.