Page 33 of Wicked Thirst
“What a load of bollocks.” I heard the King’s footsteps move about the room. “This is some kind of parade, and for what? So that I might pick the prettiest or smartest or most delicate. Is it not enough that I ensure the safety of our people? Why must this be the next step?”
“You know why? This is England after all. Monarchy runs deep in the blood here, whether it be vampire or human.”
The King huffed. “And what of the . . .”
“You need not think on that now, Brother. We’ve both proven that the physical act of love does not trigger anything.” Graymont spat the word love as though it were a poisonous word.
What were they talking about love being a trigger for? My curiosity made me hold still even longer. A wise vampire would have made herself known before either of them started talking. It was what propriety dictated on every occasion. Perhaps even overhearing this conversation would be considered a treasonous act. Yet I found myself enthralled by their words and wanting to know more.
“If we could but break it, life would be a lot simpler and surely hold more meaning for us all.” Titus’ voice was soft as he spoke, as though he yearned for something more, something better. It came as a surprise to me that this rake of a King wanted for anything at all.
“There is but one race we would be able to turn to for help, and their King is like the bone that poisoned the well. There’s no telling who we’d be dealing with or what their ties would be. Our predicament should not be public knowledge. For the sake of the crown.”
“I agree, but it is rather limiting.”
I didn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but I had to get out of here. Perhaps they’d leave soon and I’d be free of this confined space. I peeked around the corner of the bookcase to spot King Titus pacing about the room. He was tall with wide, strong shoulders and a muscular physique. He wore a perfectly tailored tuxedo accompanied by a cape that flowed down to the backs of his thighs. His eyes were a devastating honey color with flecks of mahogany in them.
“I met him once. Did I ever tell you?”
Graymont raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You met Alataris, the High King of Witches?”
Titus nodded. “I met him on that night.”
“No.” Graymont’s jaw dropped. “Did he have something to do with our current problem?”
Titus shook his head. “No, it was all Dracinda, but I should’ve recognized the darkness in him back then. I regret that it escaped me.”
“Indeed, what I wouldn’t give to have a witch or even one of those dark warlocks to aid us.” Graymont moved to the tray on the sideboard and poured himself a generous drink.
He was just as tall as Titus but sleeker and slimmer. He wore a fitted tuxedo of his own. His hair was a touch lighter, with wild waves fanning back from his face. His eyes were nearly the same color as Titus’, a deep honey color with mahogany flecks in them. He moved with an ease I’d never seen before. The two were so similar that there was no denying they were brothers.
Titus scoffed. “Hardly a chance of that. I don’t think the Witch King will be unseated anytime soon. And now this: my search for a bride.” His voice was laced with annoyance and a touch of disgust.
I was so confused. Why would vampires need the help of a witch or those dark warlocks? Why would he even consider going to one such as that? Their powers and temperament were very unpredictable. This conversation made no sense, and now I felt silly and disloyal for even listening to it. But I felt trapped here. I reached back and tried to silently unhook whatever my dress had caught on so I could make a quick getaway as soon as possible.
“Look at it this way, having a child to love would be a . . . blessing of a sort. You can never love the mother, but a child would bring joy. Or so I’m told.”
Titus made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “What does one even do with children?”
I gave my dress one final yank and there was a slight tearing sound. I pressed my eyes closed and held my breath, praying they didn’t hear it. Their conversation halted and I heard them move in the room. Bloody hell, you’ve gone and done it now, Moira. I stood there frozen, knowing I’d been found and hoping they’d just ignore my presence. But only a fool would think so, and I was no fool. I blew out a breath and peeked my eyes open. Titus stood only a few feet away with his arms crossed and his face an unfortunate shade of red. Graymont stood next to him with a smile tugging at his lips and a light chuckle in his chest.
I stepped from my little hiding place and gave them a wobbly curtsey. “Your Highness. Prince Graymont. Good evening.”
Good evening? That was all I could come up with!? They’d think I was simple and of poor manners. Titus glared at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I —”
He cut me off. “—Are you spying on me?”
“No, I—” I tried to explain, but he cut me off once more.
“—I don’t fancy being spied on.” His words were sharp and snapping. “This chamber was to be emptied. No one was to be in here. This castle is not a private residence where you can just linger.”
“Linger?” My agitation began to rise. He wasn’t even giving me a moment to speak.
“Yes, linger. It is not an open house for vampires to just roam free. You are to be in the other chamber with the other ladies of the court, not wedged here among my library eavesdropping on a private conversation.” He put his hands on his hips, and for some reason I didn’t feel intimidated by him when I should have. I should have been quaking with nerves, yet I didn’t feel any.
“I was not spying on you.” The words tumbled from my mouth. “You were meant to be in the room with the other ladies.” At his raised eyebrows, I sucked in a deep breath and made my voice more even. “My lord.”
