Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
EYES ON YOU
I haven’t seen Jennie in a long while, but she looks the same as I remember.
A small, slender woman, her hair worn long and parted in the middle, her skin the same warm brown as the carved wooden doors, her face sculpted and beautiful.
She has the same onyx eyes as my mother and is clad in a long velvet gown of pale blue.
She comes towards us, arms out. ‘Penelope! Oh, I’ve missed you.’
‘And I you,’ my mother says, as they hug. ‘It’s been far too long. Come, you must meet Emelia – you haven’t seen her since she was small!’
Jennie’s eyes widen as she glances between me and my mother. ‘Why, she’s the very image of you!’ Jennie’s speech is charmingly accented, and she smells of violets and lilacs as she gathers me into an embrace, kissing my cheek. ‘You are so welcome here, Emelia. We are cousins, after all.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, conscious of all the eyes on me. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’ Vampires line the walls, shadowy shimmers of silk and velvet; beautiful, hard faces.
They only know what they are told.
And what they’re shown. Nobody knows how close the Channel Islands visit came to disaster. And no one has to. What they’re being shown, the part I’m playing, is the soon to be anointed heir to Raven, arriving at a family home after a successful tour, with the full backing of her powerful parents.
Jennie squeezes my arms, still smiling, then moves on to my father. ‘Aleks! Still as tall and handsome as ever, I see.’
My mother takes my hand. ‘I’ve been so looking forward to coming here,’ she says, her dark eyes dancing. ‘I can’t wait for you to see the rest of it.’
Jennie escorts us through the palace, and I’m astounded.
The Raven castle is luxurious, of course.
But it’s a luxury of dark carved wood and plush carpets; of gold and silks and stained-glass windows.
This place, despite the fact we’re in near-darkness, glimmers with light as though aflame.
My father and Varin soon disappear, heading into the gardens with a tall, handsome vampire who I gather is Jennie’s husband.
My mother keeps her hand in mine as Jennie leads us through a series of rooms dripping with gilt and embroidered silks, each one more ridiculous than the last. Bertrand and several other guards follow us along with a growing crowd of whispering vampires, more vampires bowing as we go past. I keep my head high, my shoulders back, aware that every move I make, every gesture, will be scrutinised.
I will be the next Raven, not Oliver or Jacques, or anyone else who thinks that just because I’m human, I’m weak.
I’ll show them that strength comes in different forms, and I’m more than capable of ruling.
But as the parade continues through more glimmering rooms filled with mirrors and paintings that seem to watch me as I pass, it’s harder to keep up the facade.
What if I fail here, and my father has to fight for my right to hold the crown?
How will I bear the guilt of him being injured, or even dying?
I wonder who, in the kaleidoscope of faces around me, thinks I’m not fit to rule.
My mother was right to make me face the public before we came here, to find my feet as heir.
But my feet are starting to ache. Only my desire to prove everyone wrong keeps me going.
I was always taught to hide my emotions, to not make myself too appealing as prey.
But my human emotions are what will sustain me here.
I lean into my anger, allowing it to strengthen my resolve.
Imagine I’m carrying my sword, my fangs lengthening.
Feel that dark power inside me flicker. They don’t want me to rule? Fine. Let them see why I deserve to.
Jennie comes to a stop in a room that shimmers as though we’re inside a jewel box. She claps her hands, and the clustered vampires pause.
‘The tour is complete. We will have privacy now, if you please.’ There’s a moment where everyone stills. Then they flash from the room in a rustle like wings, until only Jennie, Bertrand, my mother and I remain. I hold back my sigh of relief.
Jennie tilts her head like a bird. ‘I thought you might like to stay here, Emelia.’
A bed against one wall is made up with white linens and a heavily embroidered silk coverlet, pink roses and green leaves everywhere.
Matching drapes fall from an overhanging canopy, which has overlapping layers of fabric like the petals of a flower.
Gold, woven into the draperies, also gilds the carved canopy and outlines the silk panels on the walls.
There’s even a gilt railing between me and the bed, a row of silk-cushioned stools against it.
Vampires like sparkly things, but this seems excessive even for them.
‘This was once the bedroom of a human queen,’ Jennie says with a smile.
‘So, I think it shall be perfect for you.’ There’s a knowing gleam in her eye, and I understand.
I know which queen she means; a divisive figure, who died in a revolution.
And I’m here in response to a revolution against my own crown. Everything, as I say, is symbolic.
Jennie opens a gate in the gilt balustrade, letting me through to the bed. It’s even prettier close up, each trembling flower petal woven in detail, the colours as fresh as though made yesterday.
‘We installed bathing facilities through here,’ Jennie continues, opening a door concealed in the silk-panelled walls, ‘and your clothes have already been hung up.’
I glance at my mother. She nods, a faint smile on her red lips, but worry shadows her eyes.
Bertrand is frowning, his keen blue gaze taking in our surroundings.
These rooms are all connected, one door leading to another.
There’s nothing to stop anyone coming in here if they wanted.
Again, though, this is symbolic. A ruler should be accessible. And I have guards.
‘Thank you.’ I return Jennie’s smile. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘Good, good,’ she says. ‘There’s food, if you’re hungry.’ She gestures to a small table, where a pile of glistening pastries sits next to a bowl of apples and oranges, and a large glass bottle of water. ‘Please, rest now. And let me know if there’s anything else you need.’
‘I might stay with Emelia,’ my mother says. ‘Get her settled in.’
Jennie regards us both, then nods again. ‘Bon. Penelope, we’ll be in the main salon when you’re ready.’ She leaves, swiftly, the door closing behind her with a click.
I sit on the ridiculous bed, testing the mattress. I feel as though I’m sitting on a cake. ‘I guess sleeping on the coach is out of the question?’
My mother shakes her head, frowning. She wanders around the room, her skirts whispering on the timber floors. Night pales beyond the long windows. Dawn isn’t far off.
‘What happens now?’
My mother turns, her finger to her lips, her gaze darting to the closed doors, which are a far cry from the reinforced steel door of my room at home.
‘A rest, I think,’ she says, keeping her tone light.
‘So that you’re ready for the ball later.
I might stay here a while and read.’ She holds my gaze.
Bertrand takes a position next to one of the sets of doors, facing the others with his arms folded. It will have to do.
* * *
I wake with a start to the sound of soft clapping, the rustle of silk.
What in darkness? The windows are shuttered, and I can’t see much.
There’s movement and, a moment later, the faint bloom of a candle lamp, awakening glimmers of light in the gold and silk.
My mother is sitting next to the bed, a book in one slender hand. But why is she clapping?
‘Mother, what—’
She widens her eyes then inclines her head, slightly, towards the foot of my bed.
I follow the direction of her gaze. And nearly fall out of bed. Vampires, probably a dozen or so, are clustered beyond the golden balustrade. All of them watching me. I clutch my covers, my mouth opening and closing. But seriously. What the fuck is going on?
‘Oh, Lady Raven, she is divine. Sleeping like a human yet looking so much like a vampire.’ This is a tall slender vampire clad in a tunic over fitted trousers, his face a pale gleam in the faint light. ‘Fascinating.’
‘What will she do next?’ A plump female vampire, her generous bosom spilling from the confines of her taffeta gown, comes forward. ‘Will we be able to watch her toilette?’
‘Speak again, dear Raven.’ This is a young male vampire. His blond hair is tied back, and he reaches a muscular arm towards me. ‘I would like to hear your voice once more. I wager it’s as beautiful as the rest of you.’
‘Enough!’ My mother gets to her feet. The crowd draws back.
My mother’s tone is cool, pleasant, but her hand is clenched around the book.
‘I’ve indulged your curiosity these past hours, but my daughter is not here for your amusement.
She is the heir to Raven, your next ruler. And should be treated as such.’
Several vampires bow their heads.
‘I appreciate,’ my mother continues, her tone softening, ‘that it’s long been the custom for these chambers to be open for all to enter.
That the human court who once dwelled here would watch their rulers sleep, and that’s why I’ve allowed this.
But I ask now for privacy, that we might prepare for the ball alone. ’
With a rustle and hiss, the vampires leave, bowing before they flash through the doors. My mother puts her book down.
I’m stunned. And more than a little annoyed. ‘What the hell was that?’ I murmur.
‘Hmm.’ My mother darts her gaze towards the still open doors.
Right. Got it. ‘Shall we get you ready, my darling?’ Her voice returns to normal.
‘I’ll sort myself out while you shower. Bertrand will be here while I’m gone.
’ She leans in closer, her lips brushing my cheek.
‘All part of the show,’ she whispers. ‘I’ll be back soon. ’