Page 27 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

An Original. Those who had been alive when the curse had been placed upon them. Once powerful mages of the northern plains, their ancestors had chosen to feud with nearby clans who took it upon themselves to strip them of magic. They had intended for the newly created vampires to kill one another from their insatiable bloodlust. What they had not expected was for the vampires to hunt down every mage of those clans and feed from them instead.

The Society pretended to be founded on chivalry and morals. In truth, it was a façade for the heinous murders they committed in retaliation. Ehrun had done well in reminding her of their true history.

“Is there nothing to be done?” Ariadne asked, shoving the intrusive thought of the dhemon away, and Azriel shot her a strange look.

“No.” Her father shook his head. “I have sent correspondence to his estate asking for the name of his heir, but it appears to be in his Will and therefore sealed until his death. He is refusing to answer when conscious.”

Ariadne frowned. “Did he have no children?”

He stiffened at the question, then angled his head. “None still alive.”

His tone told Ariadne the conversation was over just in time for them to turn onto their estate drive. Too many questions oftentimes caused more trouble than good. Between the insights from Camilla, Azriel’s peculiar behavior, and now her father’s cryptic reply, Ariadne was glad to finally be home.

Chapter 6

Councilman Kolson held the second ball of the Season almost a fortnight after the first. Loren did not blame the Lord for pushing the date back. After the chaos which ensued on Vertium, Kolson first approached Loren to ensure his soldiers could provide all safety measures. Ever the humble servant, he provided a small company to maintain a perimeter around his lush estate.

When Loren arrived at the front gates of the sprawling manor, he paused to speak with the lieutenant in charge.

“General Gard.” The Caersan swept into a bow, fist over heart. “All accommodations have been met. Soldiers are stationed at intervals with special consideration near the forest and back gate.”

“You have done well, McTavish.” Loren clapped the vampire on the shoulder. “Send a house guard with regular updates throughout the evening. I want to know everything which transpires out here. If so much as a party arrives late, I want to know why.”

“Yes, Sir.” Lieutenant McTavish inclined his head. “Will Captain Jensen be in attendance tonight?”

Loren nodded once in confirmation. “The Captain is available for non-urgent questions. Do not interrupt me except for updates and matters of the utmost importance.”

McTavish nodded and gave a final bow as Loren nudged his horse forward. The Kolson Estate sprawled before him with its gently sloped lawns and small, neat gardens. At its heart, the manor curled around a large pond alight with floating candles. Caersan couples and families milled around the water’s edge from the open doors of the ballroom. Loren followed the drive up and around to the main entrance, scanning for his soldiers in their crimson uniforms along the perimeter of the grounds.

No dhemons would infiltrate them this time.

At the front of the manor, he dismounted with a sweep of his red cloak and handed the stallion off to a waiting servant. The lords and ladies he passed on his way up the steps to the doors paused to bow or curtsy. His chest swelled. By the time he reached the bright ballroom with its dark wood floors and gold accents, his confidence soared.

“General!” Nikolai Jensen raised a short liquor glass in salute from an alcove away from the dance floor.

At the call, several heads swiveled in Loren’s direction. More bowing, curtsies, and Caersan debutantes hurrying forth to have him sign their dance cards. He did so, though he scanned the room for only one face.

Ariadne was nowhere to be seen. Yet. The Golden Rose could not miss the event.

Loren thanked the women seeking his favor and continued on to where Nikolai stood with two other officers. Captain Pietro Niil, a tall, thin Caersan with short, sandy blond hair, greeted him alongside Colonel Trev Wintre, a stalky vampire sporting long, brown curls tied back at the nape of his neck.

“General, welcome!” Trev called at his approach.

Pietro poured a fourth glass of whiskey from a crystal decanter. Loren accepted the drink, and they tapped glasses.

“I did not expect to see you tonight,” Loren said to Pietro. Nikolai, he knew, would be present for the dances, then the after-party planned for the single Caersans back in town. Trev, married the previous Season, attended for his new wife’s enjoyment.

Sighing, Pietro rolled his eyes. “My father is adamant I find a suitable wife this Season.”

Nikolai snorted. “As if any Caersan would be willing to settle with the likes of you.”

“As if I want to settle,” Pietro growled, “when I could partake in Rusan women as I wish.”

With a smirk, Loren turned to the sandy-haired Captain. “I doubt Lord Niil will be pleased to hear you admit to bedding a ruddy Rusan.”

“You do not have to stop,” Trev pointed out with a wink. “So long as you return home and keep the missus happy, she need not know. Even if she did, what would she do to stop you?”

Nikolai tipped his glass at the Colonel. “Speaking from experience, Sir?”

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