“That will be all, dear. You may go. Anoud will give you your payment on your way out.” The peasant stood and all but ran out of the huge doors behind them.
Isaem cleared his throat. He was a rare witch, in that his mother had been a fairy. Fairy blood was one of the few ways to secure powerful magic for your child. It came at a price, however, because any half-fairy child had a terrible immune system. More died than lived.
Such children were called Faelings, though often their very existence was hidden. Fairies were known for taking mixed children back to their lands, especially fairies from Atlantis.
Thinking of Atlantis made Helina's lips curl up in disgust. What a horrible land, full of thieves and blasphemers. She saw that the others at the table noticed her sudden change in mood, and put her face back into a neutral expression.
Helina took her fork and picked at her food. The potatoes were lovely, but everything tasted bland. Her tastebuds were being overwhelmed by her fear. Being watched by members of The High Court put a heavy weight on Helina's shoulders.
“Your Grace, if you'll pardon my rush, we do need to discuss this.” Isaem looked around the table, hoping he hadn't offended any of his colleagues.
Helina chewed her potatoes, then crossed her arms. “Fine, we'll talk. I refuse to marry a vampire.”
“Helina, the fact is you have very little choice. We need to unite France's Fortean groups with the witches, for war is upon us. We don't have long before our people start dying, and we won't be able to keep it out of the press.”
Sighing loudly, she flips up her hand in a shrug. “But why must is be a vampire? Why not someone from another Fortean group? Could we not gain strong armies to protect ourselves by marrying into the fairies or the werewolves? Perhaps the Drakes in Iran? I hear they're growing stronger by the day.”
Givael slammed her hand onto the table. “Your stubborn nature will kill us all! You and your sister both need to learn respect, but your disrespect could destroy the entire kingdom! Prince Roman not only wants to help us, but he has had his eye on you for years.” Her eyes closed into tight, angry slits are she spoke, her gnarled finger poking in Helina's direction.
“It's not as if that makes me more confident about him. I'm only just an adult. You're telling me an ageless prince has been eying me since before I came of age?” She shivered, mostly for effect. It wasn't unusual to marry young if you were royalty. Truthfully, Helina would have said anything to avoid marrying a vampire.
Old woman Givael rolled her eyes. “Prince Roman is the perfect choice, child. He respects our culture, and respects you. He does not hate witches. He wants to help Mindren, and all witches, heal from the wounds caused by his own people.”
“Perhaps, but don't you think that sullying two pure blood lines might lead us right into war anyway? I think that an heir that is half witch, half vampire might have trouble securing the throne. Don't you?” Helina gave up on her food, pushing the plate forward. She looked to Remiel, who was watching with wide eyes. Her hands were shaking.
The door opened again, and all heads turn to see who entered. Prince Roman stepped into the room, and all but Helina stood to bow. He was radiant. The sun from the window glinted off of his golden armor. On his head, he wore a golden diadem inset with an onyx stone.
He was looking handsome, even more handsome than before. His pale skin shined, opalescent in the artificial light. Helina wondered how she ever didn't realize he was a vampire.
She hated him. She hated him for deceiving her. She hated him for being beautiful. She hated him because she wanted to trust him, for having such an innocent face.
Prince Roman came to her chair, where she sat still with her back straight, glaring up at him. Giving her a goofy smile, he held out his hand. “Princess Helina, may I have a private word with you?”
“Absolutely not,” she sniffed, turning her head away. Givael's eyes nearly popped out of her skull, her face turning bright red. “I barely know you. I will not be alone with you.”
Chuckling, he pulled his hand back. “I assure you, you will be safe. Your guards are outside, and I think you will want to hear what I have to tell you.”
His voice seemed grave, serious. It made Helina curious. She sighed, then stood. “Fine.”
Roman led her out of the room and into the hallway. Her guards watched them, but from afar. The prince leaned in close, pushing her hair behind her ears and then whispering.
“Your High Court is trying to kill you.” His tone was deadly serious, but he kept a flirtatious smile on his face.
She stepped back, surprised and angry. “How dare you!”
“Shh, come back here. It is either a few of them, or all of them, but I can guarantee that this is true. After the woman was poisoned, I had my men search your manor. We found a servant with a deadly poison on her, one that I have never seen before. We sent it back to France to be analyzed.”
“Oh, good,” she quipped. “A new poison for the vampires.”
He shot her a withering glare. “There is evidence that more servants are working for someone, trying to kill you. Most worryingly, the evidence comes from this letter,” He handed her a slip of paper. On it was a seal. “Is this not the seal of The High Court?”
She looked at it, hard. It certainly matched all of the imperfections and details in the official seal. “It would seem so.” She touched her finger to the moon on the seal. It sent a magical confirmation through her. It was real.
“If it is, then this is proof of someone on The High Court trying to poison you. Inside you'll find instructions. That your servants are making mistakes is a blessing, a very strange one. If they were more intelligent, you would not still be alive.” He paused. “I also don't think that The High Court is at the top of this chain. They serve someone, too.”
Her face screwed up, irritated at him insulting her staff, but then realizing they were the same people trying to kill her. She sighed. “Why are you even telling me this. Don't your people want me dead?”
Roman looked into her eyes, and she saw that she was trying his patience. The look made her blood run cold. “We have sent countless letters. We have sent countless messengers. We have tried to tell your people, including your father, Anoud.” She wanted to correct him, but kept her mouth shut.
He took her by the shoulders, then, shaking her and forcing her to look into his eyes. “We are not your enemy. We are not trying to kill you. The vampires you are fighting are our enemies, too, and we need your help as much as you need ours.”
He let go of her, then stepped away. “You know,” he said. “I loved you when I first saw you. That was two years ago. I know, you were still young, but I saw your potential. I saw your love for life, and more importantly, your love of politics. Your strength. Your intelligence. I saw all of that from afar, not wanting to sully your good time. It was your birthday party, and I spent the night watching you dance with random men, and I seethed with jealousy. I wanted to pull you from their arms and into mine, but I gave you room.”
She watched him, her heart beating faster as he spoke.
“I gave you room to grow and learn more. And now I need your help, and you need mine. Both France and the witches are under attack. I am sure you see the political necessity of our marriage, and I hope you will come, in time, to see me as a friend, if nothing else. An ally.” His eyes betrayed his hope for something much more. The look he was giving her made her feel very warm.
“I can't just decide this right now,” she pleaded.
He held up his hand. “I'm not asking you to. Just give me a chance. One night. Meet me tonight, and we will have a picnic under the stars, surrounded by your roses.” He watched her, waiting for a reply. Helina could only manage a nod and a gulp. Her palms were sweaty, and she felt drawn to this strange man. This vampire.
“Good. I will see you then.” He leaned down, pushing her chin up with one hand and pressing his lips to her cheek. His touch was electric, sending a pulse of sensation through Helina's whole body. She felt faint.
Handing her the letter, Roman turned and left, joined by his own guards as he rounded a corner. Helina pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her fluttering heart and stop breathing so hard. Folding the paper, she slid it into her corset.
Stepping back into the dining room, all eyes were on her and her anxiety came back. They watched Helina as she stepped back to her chair, sitting in it slowly.
This was only the beginning. If she married, she would become queen, and with that the world would rest on her shoulders. She shivered at the thought, and suddenly understood why her sister had resisted Helina's world. Why she had run away.
“Well?” Remiel squeaked. Her eyes were wide. The other members of The High Court shushed her.
“I will be getting to know this prince before I make any rash decisions. That is my final word on this. Now, if you will, I am going to finish my food and would like to do so in peace.” She held her chin high, hoping it didn't quiver. She felt awash with emotions, swirling in her stomach like a bad omen.
“That is good enough,” Givael said, running her hand over her creased forehead. “We will leave you, Your Grace.”
The room emptied. Even Remiel left, though she lagged behind, hoping that Helina might ask her to stay. Once alone, finally, she pulled the letter from her corset.