Page 9

It was true—trees were still lush, flowers were still blooming, the hedges were thick—and yet snow whirled in the air, gathering in the crevices of leaves and petals, glittering red beneath the heavy sky.

“Winter falls upon us fast,” said a voice, and I whirled to find Gavriel pushing away from the castle wall on which he had been leaning. He was an imposing figure, both because of his build and his height. As he approached, he scanned the landscape, eyes squinted, adding, “Everything will die soon.”

His words felt ominous and sent a chill up my spine.

I’d only had one interaction with Gavriel before today and it had been after I had discovered the desecration of Vaida in Lara. Adrian had assigned him to stay at Castle Fiora, and there he had remained until my father made the journey to Revekka for my coronation.

Now I wondered what would have happened had they not come at all.

Gavriel bowed low before me.

“My queen, Commander Killian,” he said and straightened. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you.”

“I did not expect you so early,” I said.

He grinned. “It would have been in poor taste to be late for a meeting with my queen.”

I studied the vampire, curious about his speech.

“Where are you from, Gavriel?”

“Keziah,” he said.

I did not know much about Keziah, save that their ruler had refused to join the nine kings who would make up the Nine Houses of Cordova. They had not been the only country in Cordova to do so, preferring not to organize against the Blood King or take his side. Among the Nine Houses, their choice was perceived as indecision—a weakness that needed to be eradicated. And yet when the Nine Houses organized an army to move against Keziah, they found its people were anything but weak. They had fought ruthlessly to maintain control over their land and the kings of the Nine Houses were forced to retreat.

Every year, the kings would meet for assembly to discuss their so-called unified approach to ruling the houses. To the disdain of most in attendance, my father brought me along after I turned sixteen, and it was there I learned the true fears of men—anything more powerful than them.

The kings would malign Keziah, embarrassed by how they had been beaten so brutally, but they never approached the subject of invasion again.

I recalled deciding then that if I were ever going to go to war against the vampires, I wanted Keziah on my side.

How time had changed things.

“How long have you served my husband?”

“Ten years,” he replied.

“So little?”

He chuckled. “Not all of us were born centuries ago. I left for Revekka as soon as I came of age to swear allegiance to King Adrian.”

“I did not think Keziah wanted vampire rule,” I said.

“My people are proud and very brave, but even they are not strong enough to survive what this world has become.”

I wondered what he would do if Adrian failed to protect Keziah.

“If you are trying to determine the depth of my loyalty, perhaps you should ask me. It would save us both time, given that we have so very little of it.”

“It is not your loyalty to Adrian I wish to assess,” I said. “It is your loyalty to me.”

“You are one and the same.”

His statement did not put me at ease. Rather, disappointment blossomed in my chest. I wished to be Adrian’s equal, but equality did not mean we were the same.

“How wrong you are,” I said. I took a breath and asked, “How are my people?”

“Agitated, uncertain,” he said.