Mark of Betrayal
Page 46

“Okay.” I nodded, resting my arms over my knees. “Fine then. But…can you at least advise me of things in Court sessions, you know, we can work out a wink or a nod combo?”
“I'm sorry, I can't do that,” he said in his austere voice. “I know what influence my words have on you, and it would be unfair of me to, essentially, rule the nation like a puppeteer. It would also be irresponsible of me. You will, in time, learn what is wrong and what works, and you will do that with my guidance, not my opinions. Okay?”
I turned my whole upper body to look at him. “Man, you are too good at this.”
“At what?” He laughed.
“At…I don't know…being noble and all.”
“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Clearly.”
We both sat in silence for a while. All the things I’d just learned about Drake, Anandene and Vampirie skipped around in my head, lapping over the legends we’d based this entire monarchy on—legends that may be wrong. How was I to know what to believe now?
I sighed and hugged Arthur’s arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “Hey, Arthur?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“I was wondering if you might know something about this.” I reached down and lifted the key from under my shirt. “I found it in the forest,” I added as he held it in his fingertips, studying it carefully.
“No, sorry, my lady, I’ve not seen it before. But this—” He pointed to the rope-like symbol on the top, “—is called a Celtic Knot.”
“What’s a Celtic Knot?”
“Many have argued its interpretation and significance, but one truth I have come to find in all my years is that it represents an unending force—perhaps immortal life.”
“Wow.” I took the key back. “Do you think it belonged to Lilith once?”
He shook his head. “I’d have no way of knowing, but I never saw her with any key such as this. I can tell you that this symbol is a part of Drake’s family crest, though.”
“Really? So, is that like my family crest then?”
“No. It was designed for him and his descendants.”
“He has descendants?”
“He has several.”
“From Anandene?”
“No.”
“Do they…I mean, do I know any of them—have any defected?”
He shook his head. “You have met one before, though.”
“I did?”
“Yes. You killed him.”
I covered my mouth. “I did? Well, who was he?”
“He was a vile creature, Amara, do not pity him. He was born of sin and wreaked such atrocities on the world his own father locked him in a coffin six feet beneath the earth for a century.”
“Why?”
“It all began when Drake sought to experiment with different breeds of vampires. He tried mating with Created Lilithians, attempting to form a new species, but was never successful—the Created couldn't seem to bear children like the pure bloods could. So, he had a child with a human woman, then, when that half-blood grew up, a daughter, he…” Arthur left that bit hanging.
“He had a child with her?”
Arthur looked down. “He did.”
“With his own daughter?”
“Yes.”
I nearly vomited. “And…what was the child? I mean, was it a half-blood or…”
“It was something else, entirely. You may have heard that, throughout history, it was common for humans to inbreed—which led to deformities.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, the powerful blood of immortals merely magnified that. The boy was normal of appearance but, inside, he was like a beast—twisted, vile and cruel. He did some very…unspeakable things.”
“Like what?”
Arthur looked at me carefully then closed his eyes for a second. “I'm afraid, Your Majesty, I should not taint your pure heart with such tales.”
“Please tell me.”
He shook his head, his lips tight. “All I will say is that he preferred to prey on the innocent. He enjoyed watching something pure and sweet writhe and squeal. And what he did to some of those creatures, not all of them being human, haunts my dreams.”
“So, how did I come to kill him then, and when?”
“Do you remember the boy you bit—in the council chamber?”
“The blonde boy?”
“Yes.”
“Of course I do. I still have nightmares about it.”
“Well—” He took my hand firmly. “Do not. He was a creature not fit for this world. So heinous, in fact, I fear for the devil if he owns that boy’s soul.”
“So…I killed a monster—not a boy?”
“Monster is too kind a word for what he was. A soulless, demonic entity, might better describe him.”
I let out a really long breath and smiled. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“I…I've been suffering so much guilt for having killed that boy. There was never any resolution for me. I just kept wondering what he did wrong—what he did to deserve being killed.”
Arthur smiled. “I wish I had told you sooner. I'm sorry. I did not think of it.”
“It’s okay. I know now.” I rubbed my face firmly, then my neck, shaking my head the whole time. “How is it that pretty much any conversation we have leaves me with more information about everything to do with vampires than an entire eight week lesson with Morgaine?”
Arthur chuckled. “She thinks she knows everything. I actually do.”
I laughed, too, looking up when a shadow passed over my face on the left.
“Hey, guys.” Eric sat down beside me.
“Hey, Eric,” I said; Arthur merely nodded.
“So—” He knocked me casually with his elbow. “Emily sent me out here to look for you. Says Morgaine told Mike you weren’t in your room, and now he’s gone mad looking for you.”
From the corner of my eye I saw Arthur’s dimple press into his cheek as he looked down.
“Well, I'm right here. I've just been talking with Arthur.”
Eric laughed. “That's what Mike’s worried about.”
And that made me feel heavy. It seemed even proving myself as queen wasn't enough to get Mike off my back.
Eric placed his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him, kissing me quickly on the top of the head. “Good job last night, kiddo. I nearly fell over with pride when you came up that hill today.”
“Thanks, Eric.” I rubbed his chest then sat up again.
“Anytime.” He stood and dusted the sand off his jeans. “I’ll go tell Mike I found you down here alone and sent you to your room, okay?”
I smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
He nodded, then gave Arthur a slight bow, a force of habit, I guess, and wandered up the giant, steep stone stairs, like a human.
“He’s afraid of you, isn't he?” I said.
Arthur laughed. “Only with good reason.”
“He still bows.”
“Yes.” He laughed again. “I noticed that.”
I linked my arm through Arthur’s and rested my head on his shoulder again. “Hey, Arthur?”
“Yes, my dear,” he said in a much warmer tone than any before.
“I'm glad you're here.”
He patted my hand. “Me too, princess.”
Chapter Twelve
Sitting in front of my dresser, I angled my wrist into the light and rolled it, making sure the Markings had completely faded. The absence of black ink showed the perfect, unblemished white skin; all my scars had healed now, even the few Jason left when he kidnapped me at the Masquerade. I touched my fingers to my neck and traced down my chest to where he literally tore my heart out only a few months ago. That scar was gone, too. I’d made the full transition to queen—to Lilithian, and completely left the past behind—even its scars. But somehow, that made me feel a little sad.
The mysterious Celtic Knot key rested just above the red silk of my ball gown, looking ever so shiny, like a silvery blade in a pool of blood. It suited me, this key, and I was glad I found it—glad I found something to replace the locket Jason took and never gave back.
The door opened and I looked up, putting my thoughts away.
“You nearly ready, Queen Amara?” Morgaine stepped in.
“Yeah. Is my hair okay?” I motioned to the ornate pile of curls on my head, falling softly over my ears and neck.
“You look perfect. Most beautiful queen we ever had.” She shook her head a few times, slumping on the foot of my bed. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that we found you, Amara. And how lucky it is that David and I used to date because, Your Majesty, if I hadn’t loved him once, I’d have tortured him, and you—” Her face went a little pallid, her dark eyes round. “You’d be dead.”
“I know.” I smiled, feeling my curls tickle my neck as I nodded. “I guess it’s just…destiny.”
“I guess so.” She shrugged. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I'm just really tired.”
“Well, plenty of time for sleep later.” She held up a small, grey gun-looking thing and grinned. “You wanna wear earrings tonight?”
“Um.” I looked at the silver box David gave me the night before our wedding. I did have a nice pair of black coral earrings that’d go great with this dress. “Maybe. But, my ears are already pierced, Morg.”
“Uh, no, they’re not.”
“Uh, yes, they are.” I turned back to the mirror.
“Amara, you’re a vampire. If you don't keep your earrings in, your holes close over in a matter of seconds.” She stood behind me with the gun.
“Oh.” I touched my earlobe. “Didn't think of that.”
“How terribly human of you,” she said. “So, you want me to pierce them or not?”
I looked at the box again then opened it and, seeing the moonstone bangle, decided against earrings. “Nah, I think I’ll just wear this and my key tonight,” I said slipping it on.
“Okay then.” She glanced over her shoulder at my balcony for a second. “And, Arthur’s waiting for you, by the way. He requested the first dance.”
“Oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
I stood up, being careful not to step on my skirt, and wandered over to Morgaine. “It’s just…does it have to be the first dance?”
“Only with your permission, Amara.”
My head rolled slowly down as I bunched a handful of fabric in my fingertips.
“Shall I give you another minute or two?”
“Please.” I nodded, not looking up.
I heard the door close, and stood in the middle of my room for a few breaths, feeling the loneliness weigh me down. My dress felt too tight and the heat outside seemed to creep in through my windows and wrap my shoulders, making it hard to breathe. I ran for the cool air of the balcony and grabbed the railing, thrusting my shoulders past my hands, leaning out into the night.
The moon above was only inches from the full circle it had been last night when I made my torturous walk. Its soft, silvery glow turned everything out here pale and white—as if I were in a mystical painting, with sequined sparkles glistening on a blanket of jet-black sky. The only other colour was the golden warmth from flickering candles on the other side of my curtains. It was a nice setting for a ball, really. Magic happened on nights like this.
With a deep breath of dewy air, I closed my eyes, imagining that the moonlight touching my face was actually David's fingers, his lips—his breath. “I miss you, David,” I whispered into the wind, believing he could hear me.
“I miss you too, my love.”
I squealed, covering my mouth to hold it in when I turned and set eyes upon the tall, grinning vampire, leaning casually against the railing across the way. “David. What are you doing here?”
“I missed you,” he said simply, shrugging, and I flew into his arms, feeling them wrap me up so safely—their grip controlled by a tight band of longing and separation. And silently, his embrace told me all he’d felt while we were apart, because I felt it too.
“You smell so good,” I cried.
He leaned out from our embrace and smiled down at me, his eyes becoming small with adoration, pride and so many other emotions. “My love, you look beautiful.”
“You don't think the whole full hoop skirt is too much?” I ran my fingers over the fitted waist of my dress.
“Not at all. You are a queen now, my beautiful girl. And you look the part.” He smiled down at my teary gaze, taking my hand. “Would my lady care to dance?”
“I’d love to.” My voice broke into a quiver, which David noticed, but gave no more attention than a quick, secret smile, then led me to the centre of the balcony and positioned our hands, sweeping me closer by my hips.
“You didn’t honestly think I’d let you give away our first dance, did you?” he said.
“I didn't think it mattered to you like it did to me.”
He shook his head, that same smile staying on his lips as we danced circles over the moonlight on the marble floor, stepping to the rhythm of music lilting up from the Great Hall. “Ara, everything to do with you matters to me.”
I tried not to cry, but I was so happy to hold him again that the tears came up anyway, making it hard to see. I hid my face against his chest, sniffling, breaking the romance of this magic little moment. I’d waited so long to dance like this, in his arms, as husband and wife, with nothing between us but the simplicity of our love—something I’d questioned so often since being here at Loslilian. But in his arms, I didn't need words or promises to know he loved me and I loved him. And that was all there was to it. It was simple; in his arms, I was home.