King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(68)

“Oh,” I said. “Does she know?”

Ana’s laugh was lyrical, and she returned to her task of wrapping my arm. “She knows I will not drink from anyone but her. It is why she will only leave for as long as I can abstain.”

Again, I found myself think of Adrian and Safira. Had he been loyal to her in this way? A knot of jealousy twisted in my stomach as I realized how close the relationship between a vampire and his vassal must be.

“Do you love her?” I asked as she knotted off the gauze.

She took a moment to answer, rising to her feet first and smoothing her palms on her dress. “I do,” she answered quietly.

“Will you turn her?”

“She does not wish to be like me,” Ana said, and I sensed a note of pain in her voice.

“But she is your vassal. I thought…”

I thought all vassals agreed to offer their blood in hopes that they too would one day know immortality.

“She offered her blood to show me she loved me,” Ana said. “And that is enough.”

Except that I got the sense it wasn’t.

“Are you sure?”

“It is a decision she must make, and I will not make it for her.”

I considered how their society seemed to be built around consent—vampires had to have permission to drink from vassals or turn them.

“Is that what happened to Sorin? Was he not given the choice?”

“I cannot speak for Sorin,” she said. “But what I can say is that many of us were not given the choice in the beginning, which is why there is choice now.”

I frowned, thinking back to what I’d learned of the Dark Era. We had been told that it was a time of great fear, that new vampires were being born at an alarming rate. In the early days, they were not in control, their fierce hunger overtaking any humanity. I wasn’t sure how they’d come to handle their desire for blood, but eventually, the number of new vampires decreased. As they did, Adrian Vasiliev rose to power.

I had never considered, though, the horror these vampires had gone through.

I suppose Adrian was right. History was just perspective.

We spoke no more on the subject, and I left to attend High Council. The meeting would take place in the west wing of the castle, which happened to also be where Adrian resided. I wondered why he’d placed me in the south—was it to provide the distance I’d wanted? Or was it so that he could continue his trysts as he had before he’d left?

As we went, Ana pointed to Adrian’s chambers.

“In the event you…desire his presence,” Ana said as we passed. It made me think she knew he hadn’t come to my bed last night. I had to admit, I wondered what was behind those carved, black doors. Did he live in simplicity, or would his room reflect the extravagance present in every detail of the castle?

We continued up a set of stairs, now to the third floor, which opened into the most beautiful room in the entire palace. It was a long hall that created a bridge between one tower and the next. The walls alternated between large, rounded windows and gold mirrors. The floor at my feet was carpeted and crimson, made to look even darker by the red light streaming into the space. A row of chandeliers, lit with hundreds of taper candles, hung down the center, and I walked beneath them, taking in every detail—from dark paintings depicting the Burning to relief carvings of the goddesses Asha and Dis.

“Was this here before Adrian’s reign?” I asked.

I did not think he would have commissioned such art to decorate his palace, but then again, I could not be sure.

“It was,” Ana said. “He keeps it as a reminder.”

My brows lowered at her comment.

“A reminder for what?” I asked.

“Why he conquers.”

We continued walking, and I glanced at a mirror to my right. Just as I was about to walk out of frame, I caught site of something—a reflection that was not my own. It was a woman with ginger hair—the same one I’d seen in the reflection of the window at Sadovea.

I halted and stepped back, finding her staring back.

I could see more of her features this time—light olive skin, freckles across her cheeks and nose, full lips, and green eyes. She was beautiful, and as she stared back at me, the corners of her lips lifted.

“Are you a ghost?” I whispered.

“Who are you talking to?” Ana asked.

I whipped my head to the left and found her at the end of the hall, waiting.

“There is a woman.” I turned back to the mirror, but only I looked back. “In the mirror…” My voice trailed off as Ana came to stand beside me. I blinked and shook my head, confused. “I…must have been imagining it.”

Perhaps this was just another strange vision like the one I’d had of Adrian in the grotto.

Ana frowned. “Come. We’ll be late.”

The hall of mirrors emptied into a large corridor. A flight of steps inclined upward to higher floors. To the left, the hall curved out of view while the right led to a set of doors that reached the ceiling. We turned right through the doors, only to be greeted by a room full of men.

My disgust was immediate as they all turned to look at us. At least they bowed at my presence. The room where Adrian held council was far narrower than it was wide. A large marble fireplace framed the Blood King as he stood before a round table with Daroc only a step behind. I noted how the hearth was not full of raging fire, only glowing embers, and I wondered if he had done that for me. The rest of the room was just as extravagant as the hall we’d exited, with towering, gilded mirrors and chandeliers dripping in crystals. The ceiling was covered in a fresco that appeared to detail the creation of the world. I noted Asha and Dis, one depicted in white, the other in black, one haloed by the sun, the other by the stars, surrounded by the lesser goddesses, the ones we no longer worshipped in Cordova.