Adrian stared at me, and I knew that look well enough. He was asking if I was okay, and I shrugged.
“It wouldn’t be a ball if I didn’t make enemies.”
Shortly after Gesalac’s departure, a vampire retrieved his son’s head and announced that his body was being burned in the courtyard if anyone wanted to watch. As the ballroom emptied, Daroc appeared, his expression a harsh mask. He approached us and bowed.
“Your Majesties,” he said. “I have heard from Gavriel.”
My heart raced.
“Has there been another attack?” I quickly asked, fear draining the blood from my face.
“Of sorts,” he said. “A group of your people attempted a coup. They stormed the castle but got no farther than the courtyard. Your father is safe, and no lives were lost.”
“A coup? Why, because my father surrendered to Adrian?”
“That,” he said, “and they believe the attack at Vaida was us.”
I was not so much surprised as disappointed, but I could not say that I blamed my people for their assumption. They had not seen the bodies; all they knew was that now a whole village had been wiped out and their remains burned—a practice against our customs. It looked like a cover-up.
I looked to Adrian as he asked, “What would you have me do? I could send guards for your father.”
“I think that will only make the situation worse,” I said.
“Perhaps, but if it means your father is safe, does it matter?”
It didn’t.
“Gavriel and his men are as good as ten of my father’s men,” I said, and it was becoming harder to trust those closest to him at all. At least I knew Adrian’s soldiers were beholden to me through our marriage. I cringed at the direction of my thoughts but had more than enough reason to think them.
Adrian grasped my chin, brushing his thumb across my lips. It wasn’t until then that I realized I’d been worrying it with my teeth.
“Just ask it of me,” he said.
Finally, I relented. “Send your best men,” I said. “And send more before he travels here for the coronation.”
“It will be done.”
And I believed him.
I had to.
Because I wasn’t certain I would survive if something happened to my father.
*
Violeta was waiting to help me undress.
She had taken the liberty of preparing another bath. I thanked her and dismissed her, wanting to be alone. She left a table nearby with soap, washcloths, and the jasmine oil. I added a few drops, hoping the smell would ease the ache that had formed at the forefront of my head where words and thoughts and emotions were building. I felt like I was on the precipice of breaking but not quite there. Something heavy had nestled within my chest, and a pressure had built behind my eyes that threatened tears, and yet I did not weep.
I lowered myself into the tub, rested my head against the edge, and closed my eyes.
A cool breeze roused me, and I found myself in a dark lake, but all around me were willows and trees with white flowers that smelled like the jasmine oil that was in my bathwater. The moonlight bathed my naked skin in silver, and the water was cool. Though I was no longer in my room, this place was familiar.
It wasn’t long until I felt the presence of another behind me, and I turned to find Adrian standing on the shore. He watched me, staring with a familiar hunger in his eyes. I sensed that something was different about him, though I did not know exactly what. It tugged at the edge of my mind, a memory too far to grasp.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” he said.
“Looked?” I asked, raising a brow.
He smiled, and it was so beautiful, it stole my breath. I had never seen him smile like this, and I wanted to see it more. Still, the longer I looked, the more troubled I became. There was something different about his expression—something far more lighthearted. He did not have the sharpness to his face I had come to know well or the depth to his strange eyes.
He entered the water, fully clothed, and placed his hand upon my cheek.
“Yes,” he said, and his hand slid to my neck. “Right now, you are radiant.”
His lips crashed against mine, and I sighed into his mouth. My arms slid around his waist, and I sank against him, comforted by his presence.
“I’ve missed you,” I found myself saying as his mouth left mine to kiss along my neck. “You were gone so long.”
I did not understand the words pouring from my mouth or their context, but I spoke them and I felt them so harshly, it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Never again.”