King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(51)

“Were they ordered to do this?” I asked, having not expected this.

“Do you really think so poorly of me?”

It wasn’t that. It was that I had expected to find that Revekkians were no happier to be under the rule of the Blood King than Lara.

“I take care of my people,” he said. “Just as I will take care of your people.”

“Were you Revekkian?” I asked. “Before you were cursed?”

“I am Revekkian,” he said and added, “And I am not cursed.”

His comment made my heart beat harder in my chest, and I had the thought that if he was not a curse to be broken, what was he? How had he become this?

Adrian did not speak and continued on through the valley, up a steep incline to the Red Palace. As we came to the gate—a large one with black iron bars—I realized I could not see the wall that surrounded the palace for all the trees. Once inside the gate, Adrian rode right up to a set of wide stairs. These were black, unlike the walls of the castle, and a crowd had already gathered upon them.

He dismounted and held his hand out for me. I accepted, tired of the pain that had at first only been in my arm but was now reverberating throughout my body. Despite this, I pulled myself together and watched as a man approached. He was older, his hairline receding almost to the middle of his head, and yet he kept this hair long. He wore dark-blue robes, embroidered with silver, and unlike many of the vampires I’d encountered, his skin was paper-thin and creased.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

“Tanaka,” Adrian acknowledged.

The man looked as if he were about to speak when Adrian stepped past him, pulling me alongside him. The crowd parted. Unlike Tanaka, they seemed to know he was not in the mood to chat.

“Who was that man?” I asked.

“He is my viceroy,” Adrian said and left it at that.

We entered the palace through a set of large, wooden doors and were immediately greeted by a grand staircase, heavily embellished with ornate carvings of the old goddesses I knew from our myths—Rae, the goddess of sun and stars, and Yara, the goddess of forest and truth, and Kismet, the goddess of fate and fortune—who were no longer worshipped by the world at large. I wondered if Adrian had worshipped them two hundred years ago, back when the whole of Cordova had multiple goddesses instead of just two.

The walls and ceilings of the castle were the same deep red, intricately cut with sweeping designs—vaulted ceilings, interlaced arches, high and pointed windows. If the windows were in Lara, they would have allowed for the halls to be filled with light, but because they were in Revekka, a strange hazy red loomed outside.

“Come. I will take you to your rooms and send for Ana,” Adrian said.

I did not argue. My head was pounding, and my arm still burned from the girl’s touch. We took the steps slowly, and just as I was about to comment on Adrian’s patience, he paused on the step and shifted toward me.

“Let me carry you,” he said.

“That is hardly the introduction I need to your people.”

It would be hard enough to be human in a castle full of vampires without Adrian encouraging them to see me as weak.

“They will not think you are weak,” he said.

But he did not ask again, and we continued, cresting the stairs, heading to our left where another set of stairs led into a darker hallway. My suite was at the very end. It was large, with a four-poster bed, velvet coverlets and curtains, and plush rugs covering every inch of cold stone. I was glad that the fireplace felt so far away from the bed, as it contained a healthy fire.

I expected Adrian to leave me at the door, but instead, he followed me inside.

“Ana will need the fire when she looks at your wound. After, it will not get above an ember, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“You will rest after she leaves.”

I arched a brow at his command, though my body softened at the thought of sleep in a real bed.

“You must be well enough to attend tonight’s festivities,” he added in response to my questioning stare.

“What is happening tonight?”

“We are celebrating my return and our marriage,” he said. “It will be your first introduction to my people, and while I know you are not eager to meet them, I’m sure we can both agree that first impressions are everything.”

“You do not count our rushed entrance to the castle as a first impression?” I asked.

He smiled then. “I think my people will assume I was more eager to be alone with you.”

“Except that you are depositing me in a room and leaving others to care for me.”

I wasn’t sure why I said that, and Adrian’s brows drew together over simmering eyes.

“Missing me already?” he said, amusement in his tone as he tilted my head upward, his hand splayed across my neck as if he wished to feel my pulse as I spoke.

“Hardly,” I said, clenching my jaw and averting my eyes.

He laughed, unfazed by my curt reply. “This would be easier if you would admit that, against your better judgment, you like me.”

“This would be easier if you would admit that the only reason we remotely get along is because of what our bodies do together, nothing more.”

He stared at me for a long moment, unmoving. His face was near to mine, lips hovering close, his hand around my neck, his fingers tightening, a gentle squeeze that had my pulse racing against his skin.