Page 7 of House of Blood and Roses: Vol. 2
"That's disappointing," I admit. "I wish I understood more of it."
"I think that's why Bella gave you the book," he says. "Perhaps if we read it, we'll find the answers. I could also write to Agnes and see what she can recommend."
"Is that not strange?" It's odd enough talking about this with my cousin, I can't imagine how it will feel for him to write the words to his sister.
He shrugs. "Maybe. But unless you have someone else we can go to for this, Agnes is our only option."
"Agnes it is," I respond. "Hopefully, she'll have some advice for us."
"I hope so. Because I don't want to disappoint you."
I reach out to cup Linc's face in my hand. "You couldn't," I promise. "Besides, I have nothing to compare against. And no knowledge at all besides some overheard whispers and some vague comments from Bella." My gaze slips back to the book. At least I have a way to change that. I never thought I would be the person who finds my answers in books, but that's probably because I could barely read before coming to court.
"We'll figure it out," he promises. "Maybe I should write to Agnes now."
"You don't have to."
"Yes, but the sooner we know, the better," he responds.
"True."
He leans in to kiss me and gets up, presumably to get some paper so he can write to his sister. I try not to feel too awkward about that, especially because I don't know her, but we need to ask someone and it's not like either of us has anyone else to go to.
I look over to the book again and grab it. If Bella doesn't know anything about not getting pregnant, then it's unlikely that there'll be anything in the book, but there is certainly other information that I'm finding myself in need of, and it can't hurt to try and read it here, where I can ask for Linc's help if I can't make something out.
My cheeks heat at the realisation of the kind of help he could give me when it comes to understanding what's inside the book, but I tamp it down. I need to be able to think about this logically and in a way that isn't going to get us into more trouble down the line.
THREE
I take a deep breath as I approach the drawing room. I'm not sure where I expected my lessons to be taught, but this doesn't feel like the right place. I step inside. The man waiting for me is younger looking than I expect him to be, but mostly because I'm still adjusting to the youthfulness of vampire court. It's impossible to tell anyone's age just by looking at them.
"Lady Beatrice," he says, bowing deeply.
"Good afternoon," I respond, realising that I don't know his name.
"I'm Mr Foccett, your Lord Father has assigned me as a tutor to you and your brother."
I nod. "Thank you, I'm looking forward to getting started." I make my way over to where a small desk has been pulled up to one of the chairs and take a seat. There's a second one on the other side of the room which I suspect is for Bastian.
"Lord Fallmartin says you're particularly interested in history," Mr Foccett says.
"Erm, yes. My betrothed has taught me about some of the basics," I respond. "He's the one who got me interested." Although now I've said that, I realise it isn't entirely accurate. I sought out the library to learn more about the past of Castle Sanulieon and the vampires who live here so that I can survive better. That act just happened to bring me to Linc, who then indulged me. But that's more information than my new tutor should know.
"Ah, Prince Lincoln, I believe?" he checks.
"Yes." I look down at the desk, trying not to feel too self-conscious about the situation.
"Excellent. If you have any particular facet of the past you wish me to focus on, then you should let me know. Lord Fallmartin has outlined what he wishes you to know about, but has also instructed me to answer any additional questions you might have."
I nod, already a little overwhelmed by the whole situation. I want to know so many things that I'm not sure where to start, or if the questions I want to ask are the right ones.
"Do you know when Lord Bastian is going to get here?" Mr Foccett asks.
"I'm sorry, I don't know his itinerary. He wasn't at lunch."
"Well, he will have to catch up when he gets here, I thought we could start with some writing practice." He reaches into a folder and puts a sheet of paper on the desk in front of me. There are letters on the page almost too faint to make out. "You should trace the letters," he instructs.
"Is that all?"
