Page 2 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

String music drifted up the staircase from the quartet below. It swept around Ariadne with gentle precision, stroking her very soul. For a moment, she reveled in it. Each note plucked at the breath in her lungs and swelled with purpose so when she exhaled in a rush, she swayed from lightheadedness.

From her vantage point, her family’s ballroom gleamed. Three massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the long room, refracting the flickering candlelight, and sconces glowed high on the cream colored walls. The floor of dark pine could hardly be seen through the dense crowd of Caersan guests for the first ball of the Season. Heavy powder-blue drapes framed the tall windows on either end of the hall while three towering doors stood open along the length of the room, night blooming in the gardens beyond.

Resting a hand on the wood railing, Ariadne took her first descending step. If she kept her eyes forward, she would not see the heads turning her way. She could ignore the world and be happier for it.

At the bottom of the staircase stood her father, the single most powerful vampire in Valenul. Though she did not look at him, she knew he analyzed each wobbling step, as always. And though she silently prayed he would avert his attention, he did no such thing.

She slipped her arm into her father’s with a false smile. Not even the presence of her only living parent provided comfort.

“Good evening, Daughter,” he said, sweeping her around the edge of the ballroom where guests watched the dancers at its center with polite interest. Those who noticed her appearance whispered as they passed.

She did not reply. Why bother? He did not seek her approval for anything.

Her father’s brown hair was swept back from his handsome, chiseled face, haloed by the thin blue veins like lightning across his skin. The fine suit he wore—black trousers and white undershirt layered by a black and gold brocade vest and plain black jacket—mimicked the current fashions amongst Caersan vampires of the High Society. It had not changed in decades.

Slow to age, slow to change.

What stood out the most, however, were the faintest lines of age creeping in from the corners of his sharp amber eyes. Those eyes had seen nearly a millennia of life, and yet, they now shot from one vampire to the next, calculating each guest as a prospective suitor for his daughter.

Only the best would do, of course. He had made that known many times over, despite her pleas. Political strength meant everything to him and nothing to Ariadne.

Fortunately for him, every important Society vampire stood in their ballroom. The spring equinox celebration, Vertium, was in full swing now that the debutantes had attended the Reveal the night before. The Season lasted until the Autumnal equinox, Noctium, and filled their nights with balls, parties, dinners, and Ariadne’s least favorite bit: courting.

“General Loren Gard has asked for you already,” her father said in his low, smooth voice. “You are to accept a dance from him, though any other Caersan who requests would be suitable as of right now.”

That was what she wanted to hear.

Ariadne eased a polite smile over her lips. “Yes, Father.”

Loren Gard, the Valenul General and elder brother of her late fiancé, Darien. She had seen him many times over the last year while he interrogated her for information on the monsters who had kidnapped her. It was not until he understood she had nothing of use for the war efforts that he gave up and spoke to her of his brother instead.

The change in topic had not been much better at first. Darien’s funeral included an empty pyre, his body never retrieved from the mountain keep where he had died. As time went on, however, Loren softened, and Ariadne saw the same pleasant aspects she’d loved in his brother in him.

Yet to her dismay, it was not the general who appeared before her first when the dance ended. Many Caersan vampires searching for a wife stepped forward. Sons of Councilmen, wealthy merchants, and landowning lords lined up. One by one, they bowed and, in turn, Ariadne curtsied. They spoke briefly, then signed the dance card dangling from her wrist, filling it with the names of suitors.

Ariadne smiled and prayed to the gods she hid the panic welling in her chest. Some of the men she knew from the last Season she attended, Caersans of the capital city she lived in, Laeton. Others were new faces from the other provinces. Whether they had been too young the last time she danced or had no interest in her until now, she did not know. Nor did she care.

Ariadne did not attend for them. She was there only for the one who made her breath catch.

So when the General finally stepped forward, his silver hair slicked back and tied with a thin, crimson ribbon, Ariadne could not help the flutter that kicked up in her stomach. Loren’s perfectly angular jaw, webbed with Caersan blue veins, caught the light just right as he bowed and pressed his lips to her fingers. His sapphire eyes swept to hers, and he smiled, the tips of his fangs flashing while he straightened.

He was the most handsome man Ariadne had ever seen.

“Miss Harlow,” he said, his voice as rich as melted chocolate. “The Golden Rose. A delight.”

The Golden Rose—Keon’s chosen and the High Priestess’s most desirable of the Season. To have been overlooked her first time through the Temple just to be chosen after everything she had endured felt like the wizened old vampire’s attempt at a mockery.

Though no one knew what had truly transpired, she remained the laughing stock of the Society. Except to Loren. Never to him.

Ariadne curtsied. “General Gard. A pleasure.”

Loren turned to her father and the two clasped forearms in greeting as he said, “My Lord Princeps. A fabulous ball to begin the Season, as always. Your generosity and accommodations are unparalleled in the Society.”

“My pleasure,” her father said. “I am glad you are enjoying yourself.”

“I would be honored,” Loren said with a glance to Ariadne, “if you would grant me a dance with your beautiful daughter.”

Another lurch of her heart. As if her father would deny the most powerful military figure in Valenul. To her delight, he did not hide his smirk. “Of course, though I am afraid she has many names ahead of yours on her card.”

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