Page 14 of House of Darkness
She clicked her tongue but didn’t press further. “Let’s eat, dear. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
The dining room featured a massive oak table, adorned with a blue runner and silver filigree. Two places were set—one with an ornate tea set and the other a generous spread of food. The aroma of fresh bread, garlic, and butter filled the air.
At the academy, our diet was strictly controlled, so I had never been offered such an array of food. The table was laden with warm rolls, sliced cheeses, fruits, cured meats, and a jar of spread that looked suspiciously like zacusca, one of my favorites. I sampled the food, savoring the zing of pepper and eggplant on the warm bread, careful to observe the proper dining etiquette under the general’s gaze.
Isabella poured wyne into her cup, her refined mannerisms sharply contrasting with the vile meal. The sight made me uneasy, but I did my best to ignore it. I kept my voice low when I asked, “May I ask where His Majesty is?”
“He had to leave on important business. It’ll be a few days before he returns.”
My mind raced with the realization that the tsar’s absence presented a rare opportunity to escape. If I acted quickly, I would only have toavoid Isabella and the servants. But once Roman returned, it would be nearly impossible to evade his omnipresent power. I considered fleeing to Aetror, where Matei would be unable to find me. The shadow of his threats could only stretch so far.
After breakfast, Isabella was summoned away, leaving me with a chance to explore the castle. The freedom of being alone was surprisingly liberating. To plan my escape, I needed to familiarize myself with the castle’s layout, so I set out to explore. There had to be a servant door that would grant my escape.
The castle was vast and confusing, filled with multiple entertainment areas, a ballroom, and a library, each bathed in the sun’s golden rays and adorned in shades of blue and silver. I tried to keep track of the servants I encountered—at least ten vampires who paid me little attention as they went about their duties.
After what felt like an eternity, I discovered an unassuming door leading to the castle grounds. Early spring sunlight bathed the front gardens, the cheerful chirp of birds and the soft gurgle of water filling the air. In the center of the circular cobblestone drive stood a magnificent fountain made of a weeping stone angel. His wings were outspread, and tears poured down his chiseled face into the pool below, teeming with brightly colored fish. Neatly trimmed hedges formed a barrier to the lush vegetation beyond.
I stepped outside. Though I should have been searching for an escape route, my feet led me to the garden. I paused before a bush bursting with bright pink flowers, their sweet aroma filling the air. Cupping one of the blossoms, I inhaled its perfume. A thorn pricked my thumb, and I stared numbly at it. What kind of cruelty had the flower endured to need such defenses? A tear slipped down my cheek, which I wiped away. How pathetic I was—a cracked doll crying over flowers.
There was no time for that; I needed to plan my next move. I tore myself away from the bush and surveyed the drive. It ended at a river, its swirling waters bubbling beneath a cobblestone bridge that marked my only escape. That was where I needed to go. I traced the path in my mind, convinced that as long as I made it over that bridge, I would be free.
I meant to return inside to prepare for my escape, but something stopped me. I sat at the fountain, shaded by the imposing silhouette of the angel. My hand trailed in the water, the fish nibbling at my fingers. The tranquil atmosphere was a balm to my battered soul. I clung to the hope that one day I could escape this place and enjoy such beauty freely, for without it, I had nothing.
Chapter 8
ROMAN
Nothing could have prepared me for what awaited behind the longhouse door that night. Not even the drunken thoughts echoing in my mind from the partygoers as I approached. The scent hit me first—sweet like syrup yet tinged with copper. I followed my nose, and my stomach churned.
Six boars hung from the ceiling by their feet, deep gashes around their necks allowing blood to drip into large wooden bowls below. A vampiress with glazed eyes and a placid grin approached, dipping her stein into one of the bowls, splashing blood across the wooden floor. She guzzled its contents in a single gulp, baring her blood-stained teeth in a savage grin.
To them, the blood of the boars was a symbolic offering to their gods, part of a ceremony honoring their strength. It was a primal display of reverence for their ancestors' power. Consuming blood was a rite of passage, a means of connecting with the divine. Yet, discomfort twisted in my gut as I faced the brutal reminder of the nature I had suppressed for so long.
A hand touched my arm, freezing me in place. Ylva stood beside me, heat warming her cheeks and a gloss in her eyes. She hiccupped and giggled, her accent more pronounced. “I’mmmm glad you finallyshowed up.”
I stared at her blankly, willing my body to react. “Of course. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be fun if you left before we could… socialize.” Her grin widened, ears drooping back as her arms snaked around my neck, pulling her tight against me. Her touch felt like insects crawling over my skin. I recoiled, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Not tonight, Ylva.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t push. Her grin returned as she seized my hand. “Let’s drink, then!”
I could think of a million things I’d rather do, including burying myself in the snow outside until my wings fell off, but I allowed the vampiress to drag me along. To solidify this powerful ally, I needed to play along.
The strange odor of boar’s blood assaulted my senses. I wanted to hate it, but its overpowering scent drove out much of the evil swirling in my head from the thoughts of others. Ylva handed me a stein brimming with blood, and I despised how its scent made my fangs throb.
I shouldn’t indulge; somewhere deep down, I knew that. But if I was intoxicated, I’d remember much less of this evening.
I downed the entire stein.
Ylva eagerly refilled my glass before dragging me outside. My vision turned crimson, and my mind spun. When vampires drank blood, a rush of euphoria and primal energy flooded their systems. The viscous liquid heightened our senses, amplified our strength, and ignited a powerful intoxication. This surge sharpened our instincts and drove us toward our basest desires. The virus inside me demanded I serve my purpose, pushing rational thought to the back of my mind,but I fought it. If I surrendered, I’d loathe myself in the morning.
A swarm of vampires followed us, chattering excitedly. Drums beat like the heart of prey before an attack, vibrating through my dulled senses. We turned a corner to find a raging inferno, orange flames flickering into the navy sky, sending glowing embers into the night. A stone platform stood next to the fire, with a live boar tied to it. Its panicked breathing and racing heartbeat overwhelmed my senses, nearly driving my intoxicated mind to frenzy.
Ylva shoved me onto a bench near the fire. I snarled; she needed to stop touching me. Her eyes flashed, making it clear she misinterpreted my reaction.
“You sit here; you’re going to love this.” She disappeared to the opposite side of the fire.
