Page 28 of Given

He looked at Jordan. “Your cup is empty.”

Jordan stared at the goblet like he was surprised to see it. “Uh, y-yes, Your Grace.”

“You should go fill it.”

The brother made a hasty retreat.

Laurent released my hand at last, but he stayed by my side as the courtiers took their seats. Chatter rose, but I knew all eyes were on us. I couldn’t sit before the king did, so I was forced to remain as I was, waiting for his signal. He’d given his court permission to feast, but it seemed he had other plans for me. Servants streamed through the doors carrying giant platters of food.

I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

Laurent’s lips twitched. “You thought it would be an orgy of blood?”

That was exactly what I’d thought, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. On the other side of the hall, a lord pulled a female thrall onto his lap and bit through the ribbon on her wrist. She shuddered and squirmed as servants placed bowls of food on the table. The lord thrust a hand down the front of her flimsy gown and cupped her breast. The thrall arched her back, a look of ecstasy on her face.

Laurent watched for a minute before turning to me. “You have questions in your eyes, Princess. Ask them.”

“What are the ribbons for?”

“Protection. One of our blood rites. The bindings prevent a vampire from taking too much.”

I looked him in the eye. “Will you bind me?”

“I don’t need to. No one will touch you unless I allow it.” He took my hand again. In front of everyone, he kissed my knuckles, tasting my skin with the tip of his tongue. Metal winked in his mouth.

His tongue was pierced, the same as his ear.

My breath caught. I tried to pull away, but he held me fast, his fingers tight around mine.

He met my gaze over the back of my hand. His warm breath teased the damp spot left behind by his tongue. “The same applies to me, Princess. I won’t bed you or take your vein if you don’t wish it. And I’ll never hurt you…unless you ask me to.”

I frowned. “I’ll never ask you to hurt me.”

His gray eyes burned with an emotion I couldn’t place. “You might one day,” he said softly. He dropped my hand and walked away, his mantle flowing behind him.

Leaving me standing at the table alone.

Chapter Nine

VARICK

The feast lasted until the early hours of the morning. By that time, most of the thralls had disappeared with some lord or lady. Laurent had disappeared too. He’d eaten. He’d toasted the thralls and the gods and the army of Nor Doru with goblets of blood-wine. He’d laughed when a group of knights sang a drunken, filthy song about a Sithistran lord cuckolded by a merchant of Nor Doru. Then he’d retired for the evening—with Princess Given on his arm.

Now the hall was finally quieting down. Small groups of courtiers remained, but they were subdued as they finished drinks and made plans to take their revels to their chambers. A pair of lords carried an unconscious companion from the hall, the tip of his sword dragging over the flagstones.

The servants wouldn’t start cleaning until dawn, so I settled at a table in the back and poured myself a glass of blood-wine from one of the pitchers that had miraculously remained upright. Light was just beginning to creep through the windows set high in the walls. I finished one goblet. Then another.

“My lord.”

I registered the voice but it seemed to come from far away. Too far away to bother with.

“Lord Varick.” Something nudged my shoulder.

I opened my eyes. Shit. I’d fallen asleep with my head propped on my fist. One of my knights stood over me wearing an uncertain expression.

“What is it, Sir Kellen?”

“Lady Evelina, my lord.”

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