Vampire Girl(43)
I'd nearly forgotten about the odd bit of information Daison first brought to us about me being put on display for the princes until Fen brings it up over dinner.
"You will need a dress," he says. "Perhaps Asher can help with this."
I laugh. "No, I can manage. I'll talk to Kayla about it tomorrow. But what do I need it for?"
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes glancing away from me. "I have been informed you are to be presented to the princes in half a fortnight, so they can all meet you. It seems some have been grumbling that they have not had a chance to set eyes on you and this gives them a disadvantage in your selection."
The real disadvantage is how fast I'm falling for the man in front of me, but I say nothing. I can tell he's trying to keep his distance from me, even as he keeps me safe and trains me.
"Is it a formal?"
He nods.
"And will you be escorting me?"
"I suppose, yes. Though once you are there, I will be at the same level as them. That is to say, you will be no one's date, to maintain balance."
"Who decided this?"
"The Council," is all he'll say, as he stands to go. "I trust I will see you at sunup for your training?"
I nod, and he turns to leave.
That night as Kal and I pour over books, I ask him about the Council.
"The Council consists of the seven princes. They were meant to be advisors to the king. When a matter was in dispute, the king had the princes vote on a matter and usually abided by the majority rule."
I tell Kal what they have commanded of me, and he frowns. "I have never heard of this. It is not a custom or tradition that has been done before."
"I guess there's a lot involving me that's new."
"That would be quite true," he says.
"Why do you think the king wanted me here so badly?" I ask.
"I have given that considerable thought," he says, his hands idling over one of his beloved books. "But I do not have an answer. It is completely unorthodox, even for a king who changed much of his policies toward the end of his life."
"Kal, I have a question... "
"How shocking," he says totally deadpan.
I laugh. "I know, I'm usually so timid and reserved."
That gets a guffaw out of him.
"But seriously, I'm curious. How would someone from my world contact a demon to make a deal? Somehow my mother managed to do this, but I can't for the life of me figure out how."
He lifts my right hand and flips it over, revealing the symbol on my wrist. "That is a demon mark. It is unique to each demon. Yours is the sign of Lucian, who originally made the deal with your mother. When you agreed to their contract, you became part of that deal and thus took his mark. Your mother would have had to know his mark and draw it in blood to summon him."
"So as long as you have blood, you can summon any demon if you know their mark?"
Kal nods. "Indeed, that is the way of it."
"Do Fae have these too?"
"No, we do not. We use a much older magic, some would say. At any rate, it is very different."
I tell Kayla of my need for a formal dress the next day and she agrees to help me shop for the materials required to have it made.
My time in the forge, though hard, sweaty, dirty work, has been rewarding thus far. I learn a lot just by watching her shape and sharpen steel into all manner of weapons. What surprises me is how much time she also spends crafting regular everyday items, like nails and doors and locks. But I think some of my favorite work of hers is her jewelry. Her designs are magical, and she uses crystals found throughout the city to make them more amazing.
"Would you teach me how to do this too someday? When I'm ready?" I ask, holding up a ring.
She nods. "When you're ready."
Daison trips into the smithy, all knees and elbows and blushes. He stutters when he says hi to me, and I smile and try to make him more comfortable. He can't make eye contact with me, but he's holding something small wrapped in leather that he shoves into my hands. "I heard it was recently your birthday, so I made you this."
My birthday. That seems like forever ago, but it was really just a few weeks. I take his gift and let the leather fall open to reveal a small dagger stuck into a custom black leather scabbard with silver designs. I pull it out and admire the edge, sharpened to a deadly degree. The blade has graceful leaves carved into the steel. "This is beautiful," I say, honestly. "I will cherish it."
He grins, looking up at me long enough to see that my words are genuine. On impulse, I reach over and hug him. He staggers in my arms, then wraps his around me and returns the hug, before pulling away.
When he runs out, I strap the dagger around my waist and admire the way it hangs at my hip. "He does good work," I say.