Mark of Betrayal
Page 5

“No,” Mike and Morgaine said at the same time.
“So, what about the rest of them—the House—where do they all sleep?”
“On the second floor. These windows—” she motioned down the front wall of the manor, “—are all bedrooms downstairs. The corridor runs through the manor in a straight line, from one end to the other.”
“And our rooms are the biggest in the manor,” Mike said.
“Why do you get a big room—why not Morgaine or Arthur or someone?”
“These rooms are given to people in the highest command.” He patted my door, standing proudly. “I’m head of security. I am supreme.”
I smiled at him, seeing more of my ‘best friend’ Mike—the one I grew up with—than I’d seen in ages. I think, in some ways, being so far from home, with no one here that I really knew, it made me feel closer to Mike, like he was a part of my family—a bit like a brother, and not so much like a…well, let’s just say some of the love confusion trickled away with the sense that he was my only family here.
I reached for his hand as Morgaine reached for the doorknob, and light spilled into the corridor; as my eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar space, I smiled and stepped through. “Oh. Morg. It’s—it’s amazing.”
Light colours cast softness around the L-shaped room; four windows on the south side of the manor showed nothing but a blue sky, and to my right was a parlour, furnished with pieces of white or mahogany furniture to tie in pleasantly with the airy, summery feel in here. My bed was white, wide enough to sleep six of me, and adorned with enough pillows to stuff a warehouse.
“I’m guessing you’re happy with the colour scheme?” Morgaine said.
I nodded. “Mm-hm. It’s perfect.”
“And look at this—” Morgaine walked over to a dresser on my left. “This was Arietta’s. David thought you might like to have it.”
“Arietta’s? Why is Arietta’s dressing table here?”
“Arietta and the boys came to stay here nearly every second summer until she died. This was Arthur’s room.”
“Really?” I waltzed over and sat on the blanket box at the end of my bed. “Then, shouldn’t he be staying in here?”
Morgaine opened her mouth to speak, but Mike scoffed loudly for her.
“I’ll take that as a no,” I said, then stood up and wandered over to the windows near my bed, realising, when a calm breeze blew in, billowing the soft white curtains, that the window was actually a door. “I have a balcony?”
“Yes.” Morgaine stepped up and pushed the chiffon aside, tying it back with a ribbon on the wall. “Mike has one, too.”
“Can I go out there?”
“Course.” She presented the path.
When I stepped onto the white marble floor, the world opened out around me, like the walls just slinked back into the shadows. The sky went on forever over a darker blue in the distance, what I assumed was the ocean, and the gardens Mike mentioned earlier shone proudly below us; greens and creams of grass and stone paths, and sprinklings of colour from cherry blossom trees and rose bushes. There was even a hedge maze at the base of a long, grassy walkway. Beyond that, the enchanted forest bordered the manor, and all the way toward the east wing, a sweeping breeze swayed the long grasses in a field, rising up over the stone edge of my balcony and brushing my hair back with the scent of the ocean. “If I say ‘wow’, do you think that would describe it?” I reached for Morgaine’s hand again.
“Yeah,” she said, standing beside me. “I think that about covers it.”
“And if you look closely—” Mike pointed to the east, “—you can just make out the top of the lighthouse from here.”
I looked along his arm, trying to see it.
“Once you’ve been down there and you know where it is, you’ll be able to spot it easier. It’s white, so it kinda blends in with the day.” He dropped his arm.
“I can’t wait to see it.”
“Not alone, though. Okay?”
“Not even the lighthouse?”
“Even I wouldn’t recommend it, Majesty,” Morgaine said.
“Why?”
“It sits on a steep cliff, about a four hundred foot drop—only sharp rocks beneath.”
“Where’s the beach?”
“Between the cliffs, left of the lighthouse. If you sit up on the roof, you can see it.”
“You sit on the roof of the lighthouse?”
“Of course.” Morgaine leaned on the railing. “I like to sit up there when there’s a storm.”
“Why?”
“To watch.” She closed her eyes, smiling. “Sand as white as snow and waves made of pure violence. It’s tempest meets tranquillity.”
“It’s just as violent when there’s no storm, too,” Mike said sternly, his eyes clearly saying ‘don’t encourage her.’
“Mike? Will you take me down there today?”
“Nope,” Morgaine cut in. “He’s under strict recommendations to leave you alone until tomorrow.”
“Recommendations? By who?”
“Me.” She puffed her chest out, then laughed. “All we’ve heard this entire week is I can’t wait to show Ar the barracks, I can’t wait to show Ar the training hall, I can’t wait—”
“Point taken.” I propped a hand between her and her rant.
“If he takes you down to the ‘beach’, you’ll end up at the barracks.”
“Where are they—and what are they?”
“That’s the living quarters of the knights. They’re over the eastern quadrant of the manor—still on manor grounds. Not quite far enough to be part of Lamia, but—”
“Wait, what’s Lamia?”
“The village.”
“The houses you saw on the way in,” Mike added.
“Oh, okay.” I nodded and looked upon the forest of trees, all so green and thick, shading what I could only imagine were a hundred great spots to take one of those books from the library, then sit and read all day. The trees became thicker and taller the further inland they went. “Well, I love it here already,” I said after a few deep breaths of the pine-scented ocean air.
“You’ll love it even more when you see your wardrobe and your bathroom.” Morg stole me away from Mike, who followed, groaning.
Across from my bed, the sitting room had a homely look to it; there was a throw rug over a settee, and a fireplace set below a giant mirror. I pictured winters, snuggled up in that settee by the window, listening to the rain, reading a book.
“Okay, behind door number one,” Morgaine said and pushed it open. “Is your bathroom.”
The light was out, the curtains drawn, so all I really saw in the giant space was ceramic tiles and a giant bath in the nook of the window, facing the front of the manor. “Nice.”
“Yep,” she said, then closed the door and dragged me to the second one. “And behind door number two—”
I didn’t even need to hold my breath—my body did it for me. White shelves covered nearly every wall, with clothes hanging from rails in between. There was a full-length mirror and a few fabric-covered squares I could sit on to tie my laces. I smiled, seeing the empty side of the wardrobe—David’s side.
“So, you like?” Morgaine said.
“No.” I shook my head. “I love.”
“Good. Now, all your stuff has been unpacked for you.” She walked over and opened a drawer, showing the sweater I packed this morning. “And those clothes we picked out of that catalogue are all here, too.” She propped her hands on her hips, shutting the drawer with her shin. “You’re all set to be queen.”
“Great,” I said and stepped out of the wardrobe. “But…after a nap.”
“Point taken.” She moved away from me and linked arms with Mike. “Come on, Soldier, time to let this princess sort her head out.”
“If we leave her until she figures her head out, Morg, it’ll be the turn of the century before we can return,” he said.
“Hmpf!” I looked at the pile of pillows on my bed and considered ditching one at his head.
They just laughed among themselves, closing my door behind them, leaving me standing alone in what felt like an empty space.
A clock on the wall in my sitting room kept the pace of my heart. I stood there, one foot on the corner of a Persian rug, the other on the hard wood floor, imagining myself in this space—seeing my days, seeing moments I might spend with David, which made me think about our fight.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and checked my messages and emails. Nothing. He was still mad at me, I knew it, but I didn’t quite understand why. I mean, yeah, Mike and I had to be here, together, but that just didn’t explain his “I don’t know what it is, but something’s different” comment. Or whatever it was he said.
“Hi, David. Got here okay. All is well. In case you care,” I texted, but deleted the last line before pressing send, then wandered over and slumped down on the settee by the giant window, where I spent the better part of the afternoon in my own head. Never a good place to be.
Chapter Two
The only real sign that my body had made the change from the weak, human girl I was to the strong, Lilithian vampire I was becoming, was the smooth skin under my wedding band. Sharp snaps of electricity weaved around the tips of my fingers, making them warm, making anything I touched hot or sometimes, if it was alive, dead. Flowers, grass—they wilted under this blue light I could summon from within me, but my skin, despite my wedding band becoming almost red when I used this power, did not melt. And I always felt like it should; like I was pouring acid over glass, right above my hand; as if I’d escaped a punishment I knew I deserved. Power of this magnitude always had a consequence. David had even made me take my engagement ring off—afraid the electricity would reflect off the cut angles of the diamond and shoot something I hadn’t intended to. But, it was more likely he was afraid I’d lose it. I wasn’t sure how much he paid for it, but when I found the receipt one day, he all but leaped across the room to stop me looking at it.
I hugged my knees to my chest, sitting on the settee, and smiled, remembering that moment; he was so human then, jumping around the house, holding that receipt out of my reach, with a big smile on his face. He could’ve just run, vampire style, since I didn’t know I was a vampire then, but he chose to play keep-off, the human way, because he liked the playful flirtation—with me. He liked me. Wanted me.
I flicked the light from my fingers again, sending it into the fireplace, where it flamed blue against the lighter-fluid on the wood there for a second then flickered away to embers.
The stress of worrying about David, worrying why he hadn’t texted me back, was making my flame weak, my shot less powerful, and the headache I got from using it more severe.
“Amara?”
I lifted my head from my knee and looked over to my bedroom door. “Oh, hey, Morgaine?”
“Hi. Um, just wanted to let you know Arthur Knight arrived a few hours ago. He’s asked to see you.”
“Oh, really?” I stood up. “I didn’t think he was coming until later today.”
She looked out the window. “Your Majesty, it is later today.”
I looked out the window, too, at the setting sun turning everything bright orange, casting scarlet shadows across my floor. “Oh. Right. Okay, tell him I’ll be down in a sec. I just wanna get changed first.”
She laughed. “Changed? Why?”
I wandered over to my wardrobe. “Because…I don’t know, it seems almost wrong to go meet a High Councilman in a pair of jeans.”
“If he’s faithful to the new Order, Amara, he’s no longer a High Councilman.”
I shrugged. “Still. I’m making myself more presentable.”
“Okay, fine, but hurry up. I need to discuss a few things with you on the way down to the Great Hall.”
“Like what?” I said from my wardrobe, slipping into my blue cotton dress.
“Like what you can and cannot say to him.”
“You mean like David being al—”
“Shh!” She appeared in front of me, cupping her hand over my mouth. “What is wrong with you?”
I giggled, peeling her fingers away. “I wasn’t going to say it.”
“Well, just don’t. Not even in here. And especially not to Arthur.”
“I’m not stupid, Morgaine.”
“I know.” She softened. “There’s just a lot at stake.”
I nodded. “I am reminded of that daily. But I really don’t think Arthur’s a traitor.”
“Amara, he is a traitor. Maybe he doesn’t plan to betray us, but that means he’s betrayed a king he was loyal to for centuries.”
“Guess that makes sense.” I followed her out to the corridor, feeling the warmth of the ending day fill every corner of this manor, giving it a safe, kind of homely feel. As we reached the landing on the second floor, the spicy scent of curry and boiled rice made my stomach groan.
“Hungry?” Morgaine said.
“Yeah.” I lopped a hand across my gut. “I couldn’t eat all day.”
“Do you want something now.” She stopped with her palm flat on the heavy white door leading into the Great Hall. “Arthur might get bludgeoned by the ogre if you don’t eat.”