Chapter 19 #2
A short while later she returns, immaculate in her usual red, her gown with a layered skirt like flower petals, the fitted bodice baring her smooth creamy shoulders.
She does my hair as I sit at the dressing table, her alabaster fingers braiding then coiling it into an intricate bun at the nape of my neck.
‘Why were those vampires watching me sleep?’ I keep my voice low. ‘And why didn’t you warn me?’
‘That,’ my mother whispers, ‘was us reminding them who Raven is. Jennie suggested it, while you were sleeping; apparently it was considered quite an honour by the human courts who once ruled here.’
‘It was so weird.’
‘I hated it. Hated sitting there, watching them look at you like they couldn’t decide whether to eat you or worship you.
Wanted to kill them all – and would have been within my rights to do so.
But I endured it. Because they will take the tale back to their friends of how they watched the Raven sleep, and what she means. ’
‘I’m going to get those families on our side,’ I whisper. ‘If I don’t, and it comes to war, I want to fight. I’ll do whatever it takes.’
‘Good.’ She reaches for a diamond flower, tucking it into my hair so it sits flat against the side of my head, close to the braided bun. I watch her reflection, the ridiculous jewelled chamber gleaming behind her.
It’s such a fucking joke. Humans built this palace, lived and loved and laughed here, even if some of them did go on to violent ends.
Created the artworks I’ve seen, laid out the ancient cities, the stone monuments.
Oh, I know vampires had a hand in some of them, legends of buildings appearing overnight simply distorted truth. But this world is overwhelmingly human.
My mother smiles, her red lips almost purple in the soft light. Her eyes have a faint blood tinge as she surveys me in the mirror.
‘What?’
‘You look so fierce. Like a queen. What are you thinking about?’
‘I was thinking that this is all bullshit.’
Mother laughs, a surprised sound. She wipes her eyes. ‘Well, of course you are. What else could it be?’ She giggles again, a silvery chime.
‘Don’t laugh at me.’
‘I’m not.’ She becomes serious. ‘I know how you feel about this.’
‘Do you? Because it seems very easy for everyone to forget that this was once a human palace. Just like everywhere else we’ve been.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ My mother’s frown deepens. ‘Throw Jennie and her family out on the street?’
‘I want it to be acknowledged! That humans hold more value than just their blood!’
‘Keep your voice down!’ My mother glances towards the doors. ‘We will have this conversation, Emelia, but we cannot have it here.’
I want to scream.
‘Let’s get you into your dress.’
A few minutes later I’m standing in the middle of the room, my feet sinking into the plush carpet.
My mother laces up the silk ribbons at the back of my dress, the bodice fitted and strapless.
I’m still angry. But I’ll use it to get through this, no matter how it might stick in my throat to dance in a ballroom while people are dying.
I have to go through with it because if I don’t, Mistral will take my throne, and it will all be for nothing.
My mother fluffs out my skirt, diaphanous layers of grey tulle strewn with grey sequins that glimmer like stars, winking in and out.
‘Perfect,’ she says. ‘This is so pretty on you. It just needs one more thing.’ She pulls a black velvet ribbon from her pocket, which she fastens around my neck.
I turn to the full-length mirror, her hands on my shoulders. The Raven crest glitters at my throat, diamonds against black velvet.
‘That’s your choker!’ It doesn’t seem right to see it on me.
‘It’s Raven’s choker. It belonged to my mother, and to all female Ravens before that.
And now it’s yours. Just like everything else your family name holds.
’ Her expression sharpens. ‘For vampires, things take time; we get stuck in our ways. You cannot expect change to happen overnight. I have spoken for you, and I always will. And I promise you, we will talk further about this. Come, put your shoes on,’ she continues, as I protest. ‘We have an entrance to make.’
I can’t deny I’m nervous as we head towards the ballroom.
This is where the next phase of our plan comes into play.
I’ll be taken around the room to greet the families.
Then it will be up to me to forge alliances, turn the heads of those who stand against me.
On the surface, it seems frivolous, a party with small talk.
But ballrooms and political manoeuvring have gone hand in hand for centuries.
Whatever happens tonight will set the stage for the rest of our time here.
If I’m shunned, if I piss off the wrong person, or show any weakness, then Mistral will likely get the six families they require for the Challenge to go ahead.
I don’t expect to earn the power I need tonight.
But what I cannot do is let the power given to me slip through my fingers.
This is a game where I have to outplay everyone.
Enduring this is nothing compared to what humans endure daily.
We enter the ballroom, and my breath catches.
Painted goddesses and warriors cavort on the curved and gilded ceiling, so realistic they seem to move in the faint flickering light.
Mirrors, tall and arched, run along one wall, long windows opposite open onto the gardens.
There are only two candle lamps, but their light is reflected over and over from crystal chandeliers running the length of the room.
It’s utterly magnificent. And full of vampires.
As I enter, everyone turns. I keep my chin high as the crowd peels back, people bowing as my mother and I pass. Just like the courts of old, whoever I stop to speak with confers privilege, even if it does stick in my throat to acknowledge someone who wishes to see my father in a fight to the death.
I pause at a woman. She’s tall and curvaceous, swathed in jade-green silk, her long blonde hair braided. Something about her is familiar, but I can’t place it. However, I know from the slight pressure of my mother’s hand that I need to acknowledge her.
‘So nice to see you here,’ I say with a smile. ‘Your dress is lovely. I hope we get the chance to speak again, later.’
The woman’s eyes widen and she curtseys. ‘Of course. The Vindhof family are always at your service.’
Vindhof. Okay. Well, that’s a load of crap because they’re one of the families currently backing Mistral.
I also realise, with a pang, who she reminds me of.
My mother was a Vindhof. Michael and I, snarling at each other in a bathroom, what seems a lifetime ago.
I push the memory away. ‘I’m so glad to hear it. ’
We move on, to a tall man wearing black, edged with silver. I’m not sure whether it’s to honour my house or declare his aspiration to the title. He takes my hand, sniffing it before pressing his lips to the ring on my finger, bowing deeply.
‘Are you having a pleasant evening so far?’ I say.
He nods, once. ‘I am, now that I’ve seen you. Perhaps later I might introduce you to my son, Stefan?’
‘I would like that,’ I murmur, retrieving my hand as we move further down the room.
‘Ravenko,’ my mother says under her breath.
Traitor number two. How nice that they’re all here together, apart from Darkwing. Apparently, they couldn’t be bothered to make the ocean crossing. I spot a familiar face ahead and try not to sigh. Artos Ravenna.
‘Emelia.’ He bends low over my hand. ‘You look different from the last time I saw you.’
‘Do I? Perhaps it’s because I’m older.’ I keep my voice cool. Nope. Not here for your bullshit today. Filthy humans. I remember his scorn, when he thought I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
‘Stella was asking after you,’ he says, his smile ingratiating. ‘I know she misses you.’
I’m surprised my cousin isn’t here, to be honest. She loves a party, and this is a big one. I’m not sorry she’s absent, though. ‘That’s strange,’ I reply. ‘I don’t miss her at all.’
The crowd murmurs, my mother smiling as she pulls me away from a scowling Artos. We stop to greet more people, all of whom seem pleased to speak to me. It’s a beginning.
Jennie, resplendent in sapphire-blue silk, emerges from the crowd, dropping into a deep curtsey. My instinct is to raise her to her feet, to tell her she doesn’t need to do that. But I know I can’t. Even though this magnificent palace is her home, she’s still a subject of Raven.
All part of a show.
It’s like the symbols, red moons and dark ravens, evergreen pines.
Everything I do here has meaning. It feels like I’m walking a knife edge, that any slip will mean sudden death, my grasp on power a tenuous, fragile thing.
No wonder people want to challenge the throne.
My father’s hand comes to the back of my waist, light as a feather.
‘Jennie.’ I offer my hand. She rises, graceful as a dancer. ‘Thank you. The evening is lovely, as is your home.’
A sigh ripples through the crowd. Music starts, vampires swaying to the sinuous beat. Doors open on one side of the ballroom and a group of blood dancers, wearing little more than gold paint and glitter, enter the room, mingling with the crowd.
‘A good start,’ my father murmurs as he guides me towards a grouping of velvet chairs, my mother at my other side.
‘I agree,’ she says, whisper-quiet. ‘Vindhof seemed especially amenable.’
‘I’m going to see if Ravenko can—’
There are gasps, exclamations from the other end of the room. I stop talking. Everything, even the musicians, seems to pause. My father moves in front of me. Then steps to the side, glancing at my mother. ‘Well, this is unexpected.’
What? What’s unexpected? I try to remain cool, to not crane my head. The commotion is growing.
Then I see him.