FangsTongue
Alba had come and gone at least once to stoke the fire, but I remained an unmoving mass after the tense dinner the night before.
My body happily nestled into the cocoon of warm sheets and blankets.
With the heavy, black curtains firmly shut, it was impossible to tell what time of day—or night—it was.
If Dommik had made his rounds, I hadn’t noticed. It was probably best he made himself scarce so I could continue my mission to suffocate my interest in him.
It would take more time to entirely tune out the regular sounds of the Hive.
One of which was Alba, who was nearly silent, except for a small hum signaling she was satisfied with a task.
The sound marking an accomplishment gave away my lack of solitude.
I peeked out from under the covers and found her lighting candles.
“Ah, Lady Reyva. Sorry to wake you.” She waved her elongated match, sending the trail of smoke into melodic spirals. “Did you sleep well after your eventful dinner?”
“Eventful?” I pressed my palms to my eyes. “It was more tense than anything. Unless that qualifies as eventful.”
“I suspected as much.” Her meticulous hands set to folding a blanket. “The rumor-mill of the Hive tends to weave simple gossip into dramatic tales.”
“Seems all courts are the same.” I sat upright and stretched my arms overhead. A kernel of curiosity was pushing roots deep into the base of my neck. Sheepishly, I asked, “What are they saying?”
Alba didn’t look up from her task as she shared, “That His Majesty just about put Lady Tenebris in a cell next to that horrid Northern Hive soldier and that even Lord Hale had an uncharacteristic outburst, but that you handled the tension divinely. And that Commander Thorne was seen hastily leaving Lady Tenebris’ room just before dawn. ”
I slid a calculated glance to her. She was gauging my reaction as much as I was gauging her intention with that final comment.
“Well.” I stood and moved toward the bathing chamber. “I’m glad my demeanor was so well received.”
I splashed water on my face, hoping it would drown any evidence of jealousy lingering in my features. Valta was painfully beautiful. I splashed my face again and again, each wave of water conjured a new image of Valta and Dommik entangled with each other.
“Enough.” I banished the images and wiped my face with a towel.
When I returned to my bedchamber, Alba was thumbing through the dresses in my armoire.
There would be no lessons with Oddo tonight. No private dining. No tense banter with Dommik. The entire day would be dedicated to my welcome ball. Starting now.
“You’ve got a difficult choice.” She held up two gowns, both beautifully made.
Both emerald, Lorana’s—the eldest original sister’s—color.
They boasted intricate beading throughout their bust, vined patterns interwoven through the corset, and miles of fabric in their skirts. Alba strained under the weight of them.
“Does every human guest get a welcome party?” I asked as I thumbed the beads between my fingers.
“I certainly didn’t.” She hung the dresses on the giant wooden doors of the armoire.
Embarrassment shivered through me. “I’m sorry.”
“No apologies necessary.” Her caramel eyes smiled between her veil. “What I should have said was, no, no one does. You’re His Majesty’s prospect. This is—” she exhaled “—quite a momentous event.”
As if the weight of my presence at the Hive wasn’t already hefty enough, the pedestal I’d been placed on rose another notch. I chewed on my cheek as I considered all the ways I could disappoint Rhazien.
One thing at a time, I coached myself. Just, pick a dress.
“Do you have a preference?”
I rubbed my thumb along my jaw. To think, I was in the Illica keep a week prior, preparing myself for the axe. Until Dommik showed up, masquerading as a Traveler, and threatened the safety of my family. Had Rhazien approved that manipulative tactic? Or had Dommik done it on his own?
The Commander would be there tonight, of course. He would see me in this dress. More importantly, I was being presented as Rhazien’s prospect—the first his Hive had ever seen. I wanted to make a lasting impression.
“If it were you, which would you choose?”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” She put her hands up in protest.
“Maybe this will help.” I quickly retrieved the one gift I’d opened from Rhazien. Alba’s eyes went wide at the sight of the sparkling black diamonds. “Rhazien gifted this to me. I think he would like it if I wore it. Which dress would complement it best?”
Her eyes drifted between the two gowns and she settled on the less modest of the two. “This one.” She took it off the door and held it up to me.
It was the kind of once in a lifetime gown that would make an impression worthy of tonight’s announcement.
Glittering mesh held together its beaded seams. A bodice that my body wouldn’t have to battle against, but rather, would accentuate my natural curves.
It might need some alterations to fit me just right, but the dress was fit for… a future queen.
“Thank you, Alba.”
“Of course, my lady.”
She moved the dress to a corner of the room with a privacy screen for changing and I sat to enjoy my sunset coffee.
The evening bells chimed as I flipped through the pages of Nobles and Notables and sipped the brew, still only able to recognize or recall about a third of the faces staring back at me.
Alba worked quickly. The fire re-stoked, a meal tray left behind, and the curtains peeled open, showing the last light of the fading day.
The orange tones were particularly brilliant as they stretched and reached across the darkening blue blanket of evening, as if they were struggling to hold tight to the edge of the day before falling away entirely.
I made a point to commit it to memory, so its efforts to hold on as long as possible wouldn’t be in vain.
After the last of the daylight vanished beyond the horizon, I exhaled heavily.
I had a party to attend.
Rhazien looked devastatingly handsome in his formal attire.
His dark, gray-streaked hair fell into effortless waves beneath his simple golden crown.
His black jacket featured a beaded design that matched the lace of my gown.
My heart leapt when I saw him at the end of the hall and again when his attention flicked to me, as if he recognized my approaching heartbeat.
A muscle jumped in his jaw as his eyes swept over my form, taking in the exposed skin of my plunging neckline, and finally my neck, which was decorated by the black diamond choker he’d gifted me.
My hair had done its best to rebel against Alba, but she’d conquered my mane. Braids spun together, pulling the mass of locks from my face and leaving them to tumble down my exposed back.
A satisfied smile emerged underneath his beard. “The jewel of the Hive. Stunning. Simply stunning.”
“It’ll do…I suppose,” I responded modestly while giving the beaded gown a bit of a shake. I was quite pleased with the final ensemble and would only admit to myself that I had been harboring a curious excitement for his reaction.
“I suppose.” He chuffed and offered his arm. I curled my hand around his bicep, my nerves tripling as I took my place next to him.
We walked down the final hallway arm in arm. The hum of conversation was ahead of us. Clinking glasses and laughter echoed off the paintings and moldings of the reception hall, further igniting my nerves.
Being presented as an eligible maid in the human court had been one of the most anxiety-inducing days of my life. So much hinged on a successful match.
And now, hanging on the arm of a centuries old, undeniably handsome vampire regent, the stakes were higher than ever. But at least in Illica, I knew the rules to the games humans played. This was the unknown and dangerous territory of the Hive. I needed to be perfect.
“Ready?” he asked through a dazzling smile, disarming me. It was the kind of smile I could look at for a lifetime. Soft, genuine, reassuring.
I beamed up at him, cheeks only slightly flushed from the wine I’d thrown back for courage before I left my chamber.
“As I’ll ever be.” A short and simple truth for a moment I didn’t think I could ever be ready for.
Me, a human woman, being brought front and center into a room full of vampires who, without the protection of their regent, would happily drain me. No, there would never be enough preparation for this moment.
Even before our names were announced to the reception guests, Rhazien’s presence inspired silence. He was the picture of royalty and power naturally radiating off of him. A wave of bowed heads lowered and raised again as we passed, moving to the center of the room.
I’d been part of the crowd countless times in Illica, showing respect to the passing royals. It was beyond foreign to be on the receiving end of such gestures. Yet, I smiled softly, nodding gently if I caught an onlooker’s gaze, as we moved at Rhazien’s steady pace.
We were beneath the large, glimmering chandelier when gentle music began to float from a corner of the ballroom. Rhazien extended his arm, encouraging me to circle him before pulling me back again. The crowd clapped as the vampire regent showed off his prospect.
For a moment, I tensed against his chest, haunted by the memories of terrible dance partners at Illica court. But Rhazien glided, leading me beautifully across the floor to the melody of the strings. With hundreds of years to practice, I shouldn’t have been surprised by his effortless movements.
The crowd held a collective breath. There were no whispers, or conversation, or distractions from the spectacle that was the immortal regent dancing with his human guest. With the exception of Gorvin and a scowling Valta, all of the faces were unfamiliar.
And for a moment, I wondered if Dommik was watching before snapping my full attention back to the deep green of Rhazien’s concentrated gaze.
We stepped, spun, and dipped as a performance for the room.