Page 82 of A Crown Without Mercy

Vispera was taken-a-back. “Who is she?”

“She is—was Nosferatu.”

Vispera slipped from his embrace and paced back and forth.

“Thoughts, my love?” he asked.

“Why would one who holds thy powers of Nosferatu give it all up to become a creature who is untamed and savage? They have no morality, no sanctity, and are duplicitous by nature.”

“I too have thy same questions.”

“Follow him. Make sure he brings thy Ascelin to us. Should he refuse, kill him and his mate,” Vispera said.

“Consider it done, my love.”

“What would he have to offer her?” she questioned aloud.

“We don’t know what her life was like. Maybe it was her chance to start anew with a powerful mate?”

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Vispera tipped her chalice toward him. “He has offered her a place by his side in Estraxath.”

Dronve nodded in agreement. “Tis logical. Most would leave all if offered a life of abundance. Regardless of what it costs them.”

“She is thy first of many. Soon, he will offer homage to his entire pack, and it won’t be long before Lycan overrun our kingdom,” Vispera stated.

“‘Tis a reasonable thought. He is taking advantage of thy treaty.”

“Have you spoken to thy Mercurial Guardians?” she asked.

He walked over and took the chalice from her hand and set it down. “Yes, my love.” He then lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her passionately.

“Take me to bed, my love,” she whispered.

Sylvana glanced through the crowd and glimpsed Alaric, who was looking in her direction. She gave him a forced smile, and he tipped his cup to her. “Nicolai, I would like to say hello to Alaric.”

He placed his hand on her lower back and nodded in Alaric’s direction. The crowd parted before them and closed in behind them as they walked across the great hall.

Once Alaric, Nicolai, and Kieran had greeted each other, Alaric stared at Sylvana.

“Alaric, it’s good to see you.” Sylvana smiled.

Alaric leaned in, kissed her cheek, and squeezed her hand. “You look incredible tonight.”

“Thank you. As do you.”

“Milords, I would like a moment with my sister, if you don’t mind?”

Kieran patted her butt. “Go.”

Alaric offered her his arm to her; they walked outside, and stood on the wide veranda overlooking the courtyard.

“I am truly sorry for what took place this morning,” Sylvana said.

“I know you are.” He let go of her arm and turned to face her. “You look as if you belong here.”

Sylvana looked down at her dress. “I may look like it, but I certainly don’t feel like I do.”

“Are the ladies giving you trouble?”

---