Chapter 2
Niamh glanced up as I entered our shared bedchamber, her fingers weaving through the bouquet of black curls that framed her face. “Are you alright?” she asked.
I nodded, the bitter tang of iron on my tongue.
I yanked open the top drawer of my rickety nightstand and tucked the book on oneironautics carefully inside.
I hadn’t meant to keep it, but so hurried was my flight from the library that I’d forgotten about it completely.
“I’m fine,” I replied, disturbing the rushes that stuffed my mattress as I collapsed onto the bed.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said. “Nathalie swears there’s one haunting the western staircase.”
I scoffed. “She said the same thing about the broom closet on the third floor, but I’m fairly certain she just overheard two of the footmen enjoying an afternoon tryst.”
She giggled. “Probably. So, what are you doing back here so early?”
I avoided her gaze, my eyes tracing the fissures in the stone above my head.
Until today, Niamh had been the only person in Valnar who knew my secret.
Vampires were notoriously finicky, and I’d been caught using magic instead of doing my duties like an obedient servant.
And by the godsdamn King. I’d read that his forefathers had thrown folk in the dungeons for less. What would he do to me?
“I could ask you the same question,” I said, the tone of my voice a touch higher than normal. “I thought you were cleaning the royal apartments today.”
She shrugged. “I only need a couple hours to do the King’s suite. I feel like lately I’m never assigned to anything else.”
Sitting up, I shot her a wry look, certain that Maxence had more than a little to do with it.
She rose, smoothing her apron over her waist. “Shall we?” she asked.
We padded out of the room, our footsteps echoing against the uneven flagstones as we made our way to the servants’ kitchen.
It was simple and utilitarian, unlike the one above our heads where the Master Chef crafted extravagant feasts for the King and his guests.
Sometimes, especially on holidays, we might be lucky enough to get their scraps.
The rest of the staff had already arrived for supper, squeezing onto benches at the long, honey-hued tables to take their meal and socialize after yet another long day.
I spotted a lone scullery maid absentmindedly stoking the fire beneath a pewter cauldron.
The kitchen staff had been working around the clock to prepare for the solstice, and the scent of spiced meats and candied fruits hung in the air even here.
Sliding onto a bench beside Niamh, I eyed the steaming platter of sausages and potatoes warily, my stomach twisting into a knot. Standing at the head of the table, Mrs. Cathers reluctantly shuffled aside to allow Maxence through. Her irritation hung in the air around her like a dark cloud.
“His Majesty’s guests will be arriving from the distant reaches of the kingdom over the next few days,” said Maxence, “and so I’ll take this opportunity to remind you of the importance of decorum.”
I flinched.
“Absolutely no tomfoolery or impropriety will be tolerated, is that understood?”
“A good servant is an invisible one,” barked the housekeeper in support. “If I hear any whispers of trouble, from any of you, you’ll find yourself back on the streets before you can beg me to stay.”
“Er, yes,” said Maxence. “Thank you, Mrs. Cathers.”
Maxence’s voice faded to nothing as I recalled the look on the King’s face.
He’d been shocked at the sight of me, of that much I was certain.
It had pulsated off of him like a blast of cool air.
I wondered how long he’d watched me parading around with my enchanted tools, completely oblivious to his presence.
I cursed my poor fortune. Why couldn’t I have stumbled into the path of the only nearsighted vampire in the world? Or, better yet, someone with little to no importance at court. A lowly lord’s youngest son, or something. Gods, what was he going to do to me?
“Finn, you’re on errand duty. Everyone else, please continue with your meal.”
I stared blankly up at Maxence as the hubbub of chatter restarted around the table.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, moving over to where Niamh and I sat.
“Yes.”
“Don’t dawdle.” He waved a list in front of my nose.
I plucked the parchment out of the air. “You’re not seneschal yet, Maxence.”
He sneered, dropping a bulging purse with a clunk onto the table. “Even as his apprentice, I have more authority than you, chambermaid.”
Niamh fixed him in an uncharacteristically steely glare. “Seneschal is supposed to be an honorable post, you know. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your master, would you?”
He frowned. “Since when were you girls so assertive?”
My friend laughed, her cheeks practically glowing. “Since we learned it was the best way to shut you up.”
I scanned the scribbled list.
Cutler’s resin
Henbane and hemlock salve
Coriander tincture
Brummings’ silver polish
Tallow candles (special order)
These items would take me all over the city. “This is all for the solstice?” I asked.
“Most of it,” he replied. “There have been a few interruptions to our usual deliveries, and some are for the seneschal’s personal supplies.”
“Silver polish, eh?” Niamh crooned, peering over my shoulder. “I guess you’ll be seeing Ewan tonight.”
Maxence cocked an eyebrow. “The blacksmith’s apprentice?”
I pinched Niamh in the arm. “There’s nothing between Ewan and me apart from friendship,” I lied. “As I’ve told you a hundred times.”
I had met Ewan Galwain nearly three years ago while running errands for the seneschal like I would have to do today. He was friendly and good-looking, with warm brown eyes and muscles chiseled from working long days over the forge.
At first, our conversation was little more than a distraction to keep me from having to rush back to the castle. Eventually, though, he became another kind of distraction. Ewan didn’t seem interested in having a wife—nor I, a husband—so our arrangement worked well enough for now.
Niamh giggled. “You might have no interest in Ewan, but you should. Have you seen his arms?”
I suppressed a snort as Maxence’s muscles went taut. He had a hard road ahead of him if he was trying to compete with a blacksmith’s apprentice.
“Don’t spend too much time drooling over him,” he said. “I hear there’s trouble in the city.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, curious.
“Well,” he whispered, leaning in, “a girl’s gone missing.”
Niamh gasped so loudly that the scullery maids at the other end of the kitchen squealed. I shushed my friend as she leaned toward Maxence, her voice low. “Vampires?”
I glanced sideways at her. Niamh was born and raised in Valnar, where over half of the population was vampire.
Her mother even lived above a baker’s shop run by a human and his vampire wife, who was friendly enough.
In the castle, though, we were surrounded by the most powerful of their kind.
They were beautiful and impossibly wealthy.
I often found it difficult not to lose my nerve when we crossed paths.
Maxence shrugged. “No evidence either way, I don’t think. She was taken from the Trade District and everything they’ve found points to murder. They’re warning young ladies to be careful while out alone until they catch whoever did it.”
“If you’re so concerned, why are you still sending girls into the city to run your master’s errands?” I asked dryly.
He shrugged. “Someone has to do it.”
“Well, I haven’t heard anything about any missing girl, and there haven’t been vampire attacks against humans in the capital for centuries,” I said. “Unless you count tavern brawls.”
Niamh paled. “That we know of.”
“Just be sure to watch your neck,” said Maxence, grinning.
“Why would you say that?” she squealed.
I rolled my eyes as he chuckled. “Come on,” he said. “Vampires don’t just walk around attacking humans at random, even the starving ones.”
My gaze flicked between the two of them. Niamh shot him an icy look, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s not funny,” she insisted, her lips pouting.
“He’s just pulling your leg, Niamh,” I said.
“I know that,” she insisted, her tone decidedly unconvincing.
“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll stick to the high streets,” I assured her, rising.
She glanced up at me with wide eyes, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip.
I patted her on the shoulder, tucking Maxence’s list into my pocket.
“Wait!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I’ll join you.
I’ve been meaning to see the seamstress and Mama, anyway.
I’m sure she’d love to have you over for dinner. ”
I caught the brief pall of disappointment that flickered across Maxence’s features, the realization dawning on me that I had likely foiled his plot to get Niamh to himself for a few hours.
“I would be grateful for your company,” I said to her, smiling.
“If only to prove to you that there’s nothing to be worried about.
” I leaned toward her as we headed for our quarters, whispering in her ear, “Besides, if there really is a killer on the loose, I’d hate to see him come up against a fearsome witch such as I. ” She beamed back at me.
“Will you animate a broom and sweep him to death?” she whispered, sending us both into fits of laughter.
From the bridge that connected the castle to the city proper we could see the entire capital. Every new moon, it would be crowded with a queue of citizens from the far reaches of Valen, all waiting patiently for an audience with the King himself.
Some would pass the entire evening here just for the opportunity to beseech King Mordric for his aid.
Depending on the question at hand, he might pledge funds from the royal coffers, or the strength of his military in response to their pleas.
Other times, he would make a final ruling on matters of the law.
It took great courage, I mused, to air your most desperate grievances to the King and his council.