King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(57)

It was in my nature too. I could feel it every time I thought of Adrian’s vassal.

At least we could be honest with each other.

“You would do well to remember it,” he said.

“Or what?” I challenged.

Adrian kissed me.

There was nothing gentle about it. He grasped my head in both hands as he bent over me, parting my lips. I clung to him, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with my own, feeling both desperate and reckless. Our bodies were so close, our fingers digging into each other’s skin. I wanted him, to be stretched by him, filled with him, possessed by him, and I hoped he could hear every single thought.

Adrian growled and released my mouth, gleaming eyes meeting mine. But before he could fulfill my wish, my eyes slipped from him over his shoulder, to the doors where a man—a vampire—entered, flanked by two others. In his hand, he gripped the head of Zakharov.

Adrian turned to face the newcomers.

“I will have vengeance, King Adrian, for the death of my son.”

I tried not to react to the presence of the newcomer, but my heart was racing, and I gripped Adrian’s arm a little tighter. He held me close, a hand on my waist, lips still gleaming from our kiss. As I looked up at him, he seemed unconcerned.

“Your son accosted my wife, your queen, Noblesse Gesalac,” he said. “And for that, he was punished. It is your choice to kill him now. Burn him or not, it is for you to decide.”

“That is no choice at all,” Gesalac snapped.

It wasn’t. If vampire bodies were not burned after decapitation, they would reanimate, not as they were before but as revenants—essentially vampires with no humanity. They attacked humans and animals alike, thirsting endlessly for blood. We had learned this at a young age during training, but it had never occurred to me that vampires also practiced this, mostly because I had never imagined they had any sort of justice system.

“Then you have your answer,” Adrian said.

Gesalac threw his son’s head at our feet. It rolled, landing with his half-opened eyes facing me.

“You risk my allegiance for a woman—a mortal one at that?”

“Careful of your words, Noblesse,” Adrian said. “No one is irreplaceable.”

“That also goes for you, my king,” Gesalac replied.

There was a moment of tense silence when I wasn’t sure Gesalac would leave, but he bowed his head and left with his men.

The celebration resumed, and I got the feeling that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence. I lifted my dress to keep the hem out of the blood draining from Zakharov’s head and used my foot to roll it away, unnerved by how his eyes watched me.

Adrian stared at me, and I knew that look well enough. He was asking if I was okay, and I shrugged.

“It wouldn’t be a ball if I didn’t make enemies.”

Shortly after Gesalac’s departure, a vampire retrieved his son’s head and announced that his body was being burned in the courtyard if anyone wanted to watch. As the ballroom emptied, Daroc appeared, his expression a harsh mask. He approached us and bowed.

“Your Majesties,” he said. “I have heard from Gavriel.”

My heart raced.

“Has there been another attack?” I quickly asked, fear draining the blood from my face.

“Of sorts,” he said. “A group of your people attempted a coup. They stormed the castle but got no farther than the courtyard. Your father is safe, and no lives were lost.”

“A coup? Why, because my father surrendered to Adrian?”

“That,” he said, “and they believe the attack at Vaida was us.”

I was not so much surprised as disappointed, but I could not say that I blamed my people for their assumption. They had not seen the bodies; all they knew was that now a whole village had been wiped out and their remains burned—a practice against our customs. It looked like a cover-up.

I looked to Adrian as he asked, “What would you have me do? I could send guards for your father.”

“I think that will only make the situation worse,” I said.

“Perhaps, but if it means your father is safe, does it matter?”

It didn’t.

“Gavriel and his men are as good as ten of my father’s men,” I said, and it was becoming harder to trust those closest to him at all. At least I knew Adrian’s soldiers were beholden to me through our marriage. I cringed at the direction of my thoughts but had more than enough reason to think them.

Adrian grasped my chin, brushing his thumb across my lips. It wasn’t until then that I realized I’d been worrying it with my teeth.

“Just ask it of me,” he said.

Finally, I relented. “Send your best men,” I said. “And send more before he travels here for the coronation.”

“It will be done.”

And I believed him.

I had to.

Because I wasn’t certain I would survive if something happened to my father.

*

Violeta was waiting to help me undress.

She had taken the liberty of preparing another bath. I thanked her and dismissed her, wanting to be alone. She left a table nearby with soap, washcloths, and the jasmine oil. I added a few drops, hoping the smell would ease the ache that had formed at the forefront of my head where words and thoughts and emotions were building. I felt like I was on the precipice of breaking but not quite there. Something heavy had nestled within my chest, and a pressure had built behind my eyes that threatened tears, and yet I did not weep.