Page 56 of Fated to the Vampire Prince
They battled as we once battled. Summoning demons at will and using Diana’s light to burn villages. Practicing the kind of magick that the Blood Treaty had outlawed in our land. I knew these negotiations could turn bloody if I wasn’t careful. But all the same, Claire inhabited my mind like ivy growing into crumbling brick. Twisting around every inch of me until there was nothing left—only thoughts of her.
For a moment, I allowed a twisted fantasy to unfurl. Wondering if I could keep Claire as my mate here in Roselyn, and still be the duke the people needed. Wondering… for the first time… if we could keep it a secret.
Through her door, I heard the muffled sounds of her crying. She was crying… because of me.
The fantasy I’d dreamed up died. She didn’t want me. She hated me. And she should. I was poison to her. She deserved to be with someone far better than me. I touched her door, letting my hand linger there for a beat. A silent goodbye. Then I made my way down the grand staircase to visit Lena, an older woman who’d been a consort for many years and now helpedme manage the staff. She was an advocate, ensuring they had sufficient rest, medical treatment, and were properly trained.
She seemed surprised to see me twice in one day. “How can I help you, Your Grace?”
The pain the next words caused me was nearly unbearable, but I forced myself to speak them. “Have those who volunteered to dye their hair red wash it out. If any are amenable to being reconsidered by my sanguine partner, have them present themselves to her chambers.”
The thought of Claire surrounded by this many lovers was like taking an arrow between the shoulder blades, the pain so sharp I couldn’t draw a full breath, but this was the right thing to do. I had to treat her like a sanguine partner, not a mate.
She made a note in her ledger, then glanced back up at me. “She only needs one more. Are you sure this is necessary, Your Grace? I don’t like wasting the consort’s time.”
“Pay volunteers triple their salary,” I said between my teeth. “And tell them they’ll be a buffet. Food and desserts. And musicians. It will be a party.”
Lena made another note. “I think this sounds like the kind of fun many would be interested in, Your Grace. I’ll speak with the staff straight away.”
I offered her my thanks and departed, intent on taking out my pent-up frustrations in the training yard.
The sun was shining despite the frigid temperature, and I knew it was ill-advised to cross swords with my Master-at-Arms while distracted, but I didn’t care. I met blow after blow for hours until I could barely lift my arm, and the sun’s rays had drained my strength.
“What’s got you all pissed off, Your Grace?” Sir Gavin finally asked when I threw down my sword and wiped the sweat from my brow. “You’re fighting like an angry young man, notthe warrior I know you to be.”
I ignored the comment and winced as I touched my aching lip.
He’d punched me hard enough to split it open before I’d decided enough was enough. I licked the wound; Claire’s blood coated my tongue. Tantalizingly sweet. I cast my gaze toward the tower where her room was and wished I hadn’t. The pain of knowing she was up there withwhoever, doingwhatever,was more than I could bear.
You can bear it, and you will.
“Out with it, Your Grace. What’s bothering you?” he asked in his gruff voice.
I forced a grin to put him at ease. I didn’t want him to think I was troubled. I needed to be their commander. “I fancied a scrappier fight after spending all that time at the capital,” I told him, forcing my attention away from Claire’s room.
I wasn’t sure if I fooled him into believing all was well, but the old Master-at-Arms let out a chuckle. “Speaking of the capital, that lad of yours, Lord Tyson, he came by the training yard just before you did.”
I raised an interested brow. Tyson may be palace-trained, but Sir Gavin’s opinion was the one that mattered. “And?”
He shrugged and offered me a reluctant smile. “His style is formal, but he isn’t without talent. A trip past the mountains will do him good. Rough up hissmoothedges.”
I laughed with him.
Sheathing his sword, he added, “His sanguine partner is a fighter, too. The Lady Okeri crossed blades with him and held her own.”
My laughter died as I considered his statement. A trip over the mountains might be good for Tyson, but I wondered if it would be good for Claire. How was she going to fare if we went to battle? More importantly, what would happen if she was injured? What would I do?
Shaking his hand and offering him my thanks, I left the training yard and headed for my council chambers, which were as far away from Claire’s room as I could get without sitting in Imogen’s salt pools. I pored over maps and scratched down notes and did everything I was supposed to do to prepare for my meeting at eight. Including researching more about werewolf sightings in the last millennium. If Alec’s story was true, there was a new threat loose inside the Unified Territories.
Yet, I was distracted, cutting my attention between what was required of me as the Duke of Roselyn and being Claire’s mate. I cursed the gods. Cursed my wretched life as a vampire.
I had too many responsibilities to be mated. And yet, the fantasy of living with her as my mate twisted its way back into my thoughts. Unhelpful and unwelcome. I rubbed my temples in frustration, trying to see a way forward. If Tyson was half the leader Natalia was, there would be a chance I could trust him. Because the one thing that would pain me more than hurting Claire would be to sit idly by, watching him fail to negotiate peace. Especially if my absence from these negotiations meant the people of Roselyn—my people—would be standing on the front lines if the covens of the Lawless Land attacked.
Chapter 27
Qui êtes-vous?
CLAIRE
