Call me Rhazien #2
“You’re too kind, Majesty,” I said through a genuine smile. "I’m beginning to think there isn’t a color you don’t adore.”
“Maybe it’s not the fabric color.” Rhazien’s unoccupied hand found my chin. “Maybe it’s just you.”
Servants had set my small dining table for two in preparation for our dinner. Rhazien guided me to my seat. Before taking his own, the regent selected a small box from an end table and brought it to me.
“Do me the honor, open this one first. I want to see your reaction.” Rhazien placed the petite box in my hands and his mossy eyes watched as I pulled the bow loose. I nearly gasped as I took in the glimmer that greeted me.
I sucked in a sharp breath with the extravagant choker nestled within the velvet case, boasting rows upon rows of glimmering black diamonds. The lanterns radiated off of each dutifully crafted facet as if the entire necklace were made of shadow and flame itself.
“Dawn above,” I whispered, running my fingers along the stones. It was the finest piece of jewelry I’d ever held. Like distant stars, full of fire and wonder, had been pulled from the heavens and made captors.
“The rest of these will seem dull compared to this.” Rhazien rocked on his heels, pleased with my reaction to the expensive offering.
“Thank you,” I whispered, enamored with the jewelry, but wary of what he might expect in return for such a fine gift.
“You’re welcome. I look forward to seeing you wear it,” he said as he joined me across the table. “How do you like your accommodations? Do they meet your expectations?”
“They exceeded my expectations,” I responded in earnest, placing the lid back on the box, securing the precious gemstones.
“Really?” He raised his brows and surveyed the room in a way that made me curious about his chambers. Larger and grander, I assumed. “What did you think they would be like?”
A servant moved around us, lifting covers from a thick cut of beef and pouring wine into our goblets.
“I assumed I would be in a cell…or a broom closet…maybe a pig pen.”
He chuckled and, to my surprise, I did too.
“Better than a sty, wouldn’t you say?” He lifted his chalice to me.
“Mmm,” I hummed, returning the salute. “Better than a sty.”
I paused as my lips pressed the cup’s rim, remembering the last time Rhazien had offered me wine from an open carafe.
Had he put his blood in this wine as well? Would he admit it if I asked? Or would he lie?
“It’s clean,” he said, sensing my alarm. “No blood.”
A confusing mix of relief and disappointment filled me. I wanted my senses, my capacities. But the sensations that had come from just a few drops of blood had tilted me into complete and utter ecstasy.
I pushed down thoughts of the carriage and my tub.
Had I really only been here one night?
“Reyva.” I lifted my lashes at the sound of my name. He eyed me with caution. “I promise.”
There was only one way to know if he would build trust with me or ruin any chance of earning it. I took a generous sip in hopes he was true to his word.
The notes and undertones lingered on my tongue. “Bromport?”
“Your favorite,” he quipped as he speared a carrot.
And Alba’s home, I thought.
“Hmm.” The swirl of unanswered questions begged to be let out. They wouldn’t be quelled by compliments, expensive gifts, or even my favorite wine.
“What are you thinking?”
I took another sip for courage and said, “I’m thinking about your intentions with me.”
Rhazien coughed into his emerald napkin.
I narrowed my eyes and bit my lip. “I’m waiting for the moment you ask me to find an item for you as a means to do something…terrible.”
“You’re right to be apprehensive.” He composed himself and cleared his throat. “There is a task. One that can only be completed through someone with your abilities.”
My stomach plummeted without his denial of terrible motivations.
“What is the item?” I asked, pressing more than I likely should given our unfamiliar relationship. “And what happens after I find it for you?”
“Reyva.” The way the vowels of my name stretched on his silky voice stilled my raucous heart.
“I understand.” The regent stood and moved to kneel at my side. “I understand you’ve been maltreated. I understand why you think my only interest in you is for your gift. I want you to feel at home here, not just because of your gift, but because I want a future with you.”
My heart softened, not only at his words but at the sight of him. Rhazien Kyrell, immortal ruling regent, kneeling and pleading for me to listen to and understand him. “A future?”
“Yes.” He placed a kiss on my knuckles and returned to his seat. “My intentions with you go far beyond this task.”
I studied him from behind the wine-filled chalice. The dry cabernet, my favorite vice, was doing its best to ease my nerves. Our eyes met. Hues of green stared back, soft and searching.
“Your intentions to court me?” I clarified.
“Yes.” Delight flickered in his gaze, like mentioning it meant I’d already accepted.
“To what end?”
“To whatever end finds us.” Rhazien speared a piece of meat and chuckled. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
I chased an odd shaped potato with my fork as I admitted, “I don’t know enough to say.”
Rhazien wiped the corners of his mouth. “If you’ll have me, I’d like you to become my future queen.”
My fork hovered above a cut of meat, frozen by his statement.
“Y-your—” I stammered. I couldn’t have heard that correctly.
“And until you accept,” he continued like I wasn’t staring at him, dumbfounded and slackjawed, “you’ll be known as my prospect.”
I set my silverware down and my stomach clenched.
“So, in the carriage. When you said courtship, you really meant it?”
He chewed a piece of meat and nodded. “Mhmm.”
“And that’s different from being bound?”
He nodded and swallowed. “Oh yes. That’s the acceptance piece.”
I pressed my fingers into my temples. “So, you’re courting me?”
“Right.”
“To offer your…shadow?” I asked without a single ounce of confidence.
“Correct.”
“And I would become bound to you?”
He nodded as he sipped from his chalice.
“And eventually make me your future queen?”
“It sounds so simple when you say it in quick succession like that.” He tipped his head side to side.
A future queen—no, not just a queen—a vampire queen. I gulped the remaining wine in my goblet. A servant, who I’d forgotten was standing in the corner, surged forward with the decanter.
“But…” My features twisted. “Why? We’ve just met and you could have anyone in Atoris.”
Rhazien cleared his throat and glanced at my untouched plate of food. “I wish you’d eat.”
“I don’t think I can.” My belly warmed by the moment from the wine and weight of my situation.
“Come.” Rhazien floated to my side and extended his hand.
He guided me to the two emerald green chairs opposite the loveseat, near the hearth. A log shifted in the fireplace as we sat, as if to settle into the conversation as well.
The servant retrieved our wine, which I graciously accepted. Maybe I’d regret indulging, but abnormal circumstances called for copious amounts of alcohol, and this scenario qualified as abnormal.
I stared into the flames for five long, quiet minutes as I mulled over his intentions. The wine floated through my veins, weighing my limbs but lifting my thoughts.
Rhazien didn’t rush through the elongated silence; he patiently waited for me to be ready to talk.
The quiet between us felt comfortable, familiar even.
There was no sense I needed to hurry and process the onslaught of information and engage with him.
No inkling he was bored and frustrated. He was strong…
steady. Beyond the flames holding my focus, his hand tipped back and forth, sending the liquid in his goblet side to side like rolling waves in a red sea.
I finally tore my attention from the fireplace and found him looking at me with something dangerously close to reverence in his eyes.
His smolder carved a path from my face to the dramatic slit in my dress, now exposed without the table.
Heat crawled up my neck as his tongue flicked over his lower lip.
“You’re not being very subtle.” I drummed my fingers on the chalice. His eyes traveled my frame.
“I would apologize," he said, smirking beneath his gray speckled stubble, “but it would be a lie. I’m not entirely sorry.”
Rhazien’s broad chest rose and fell as his admission rode a heavy breath.
In truth, I wasn’t sorry either. The regent looked like a man lost at sea and I was his long awaited gift of drinkable rain.
Sustenance. To be looked at like that usually meant one of two things.
I was either about to get my way, or I was in danger.
Rhazien was dangerous. He hadn’t shown his unnatural strength or speed as Dommik had, but it was there, just beneath the surface of his strong build and manicured beard. Just as his fangs were concealed but could be drawn into service at a moment’s notice.
He was dangerous.
But sitting across from him, I didn’t feel fear. I felt powerful.
Holding the attention of an immortal ruler who—from the way he gripped the arm of his chair—seemed to be fighting a battle between restraining himself and Dawn knew what else, was more intoxicating than the wine.
I leaned to place my goblet on a nearby table and my gown climbed higher from the movement.
I bit my lip and cooed, “Tell me about the traces.”
He paused, clearly weighing the pros and cons of giving me details of the experience of vampire life. The regent let out a short exhale, folded his hands and said, “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” I pushed.
His eyes narrowed. “You look like an oil painting.”
I tilted my head, curious for more details.
“I instructed those sent to see you safely delivered that you weren’t to be touched and especially not fed on, but I can see a lingering presence from the four of us now, which is three too many.”
Rolf, Vaspar, Rhazien, and…Dommik.
“Yes, well…” The urge to thoroughly scrub my skin raw once I had the chance to bathe again overwhelmed me.
“There will be swift justice for their actions, Reyva.”