Page 10 of Vampires of Eden

“Even still,” Lord Cherrington presses, “this fanciful idea is unquestionably expensive. And with the way you’ve misused the funds entrusted to you?—”

“Lord Cherrington,” my father’s polite but stern voice makes the elder vampire pause. “We are here to discuss the ways in which we can better our aristocracy as its leaders. Not scrutinize Prince Alexander’s personal expenses. The initial proposal has been presented. Shall we take a vote?”

“Agreed,” Governor Ellis says while swiftly taking hold of her gavel. She taps it once. “Esteemed council, please express your vote on the proposal in question. Pass or reject. Prince Alexander?”

“Reject.”

“Lady Bhaduri?”

“It needs a bit more work, Lord Cherrington. Some editing? Reject.”

“I also reject,” Governor Ellis states.Clack, clack, clack. “The proposal is denied. Prince Alexander, I request that you formalize your ideas in an official proposal for the council’s consideration, perhaps, by next quarter? The notion has merit, but I agree that it feels quite lofty in its ambitions. We need to see a detailed plan.”

I have no idea how to execute this alone and in my currentand mildly depressive state, but fake it until you make it, I guess. “Understood.”

She nods. “This concludes today’s meeting.”Clack.

Standing, I stretch my arms up and fail to stifle a yawn. God, I feel awful and heavy. When my father is at my side, instinctively, I turn to face him. He rests his palms on my shoulders and squeezes.

“Kräusviin anch,” he says quietly in his native tongue. He cups my head, pulls me forward and kisses my forehead in the same way he’s always done since I was a child. Despite the fact that I’m taller than him now.

Well done.

“Gravvis, Papän.” He wants to retire, badly.

He’s been on the Royal Governing Board for decades and is exhausted.

Lord Ansväd Kendrick never wanted to be King of Eden. He would much rather immerse himself deeply into the world of music and arts. And so, he does. Attending shows both locally and abroad, rubbing elbows with esteemed conductors, producers and creatives. Discovering new talents and showcasing them in his Royal Eden Opera House, which serves as a veritable menagerie of his favorite musicians.

I’m slated to take his position on the Governing Board. It would have naturally happened following my… my marriage to Oliver. Since that’s never happening and I’m broke, it’s up in the air. The elephant in the room that none of us openly acknowledges.

Well, Lord Cherrington acknowledges it.

Cheerfully.

Can I still take my place on the board with no personal capital and without being mated? I’m not sure. At this point, only time will tell.

When my painful, dry and awkward as hell lunch date with Lady Batista is finished, I run back to my room, throw on my royal-blue wool trench coat with the high collar and copper accents and discreetly head toward the back of the estate where my car is parked. I check my watch as I move down the hallway. 3:45. I’m leaving a little later than I’d like, but I should still arrive on time.

There’s a fancy cork board full of hooks that stores all the keys to every vehicle associated with the house, whether it be my car or my mother’s (Father doesn’t drive and prefers to be driven around), the chauffeur car or the riding lawnmowers for the landscapers. Standing in front of it, I lift my hand toward my designated hook, but my car keys aren’t there.

“Are you looking for something?”

“GoddammitRaph.” Clutching my fingers to my sweater at my chest, I take a deep breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“You’re always so jumpy, little rabbit. Where are you going?”

“Out. Have you seen my car keys?”

“Out where?” He opens his palm and my keys are in the center. “I just had it washed for you. Why are you being sneaky?”

“I’m not sneaking. I’m going for a drive.” I’m absolutely sneaking. I step forward to take the keys, but as I reach, he closes his hand into a fist and drops it to his side.

His expression is serious. “You’re not taking Oliver to the airport, are you?”

“No. Give me the keys.”

“Do you promise? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Lexie? I didn’t raise you to tell lies.”