A Valley of Darkness (A Shade of Vampire #52)(30)

“Oh… I see.” I nodded slowly, then noticed the similarities between Amalia and Emilian, the latter now dancing with Hansa.

“There’s talk of marriage between the Houses of Obara and Kifo,” Rewa added, glancing at Amalia and Caspian. “It would be a good move, politically and financially speaking, but Caspian and Amalia have said no. I think Emilian still holds out hope, but we’ll see!”

Rewa and Blaze then continued dancing, while I stared at Amalia for a little while longer. She looked like a diaphanous creature, out of this world, making me feel rough and dark and cold. No wonder Caspian had completely forgotten about me once he saw her.

I mean, look at her…

Amalia was talking to Caspian, laughing once in a while. Then, all of a sudden, whether it was of her own impulse or triggered by something that Caspian said, she looked at me. I’d had trouble listening in on their conversation, given all the music and chatter in that ballroom.

I froze, as if caught in the act, but she gave me a warm, friendly smile, and it baffled me. I’d kind of expected her to give me one of those “hands off my boyfriend” looks.

She then took Caspian’s hand and guided him onto the dancefloor, while I moved away to the edge, unable to take my eyes off them.

After a few minutes I concluded that they seemed like old friends enjoying each other’s company, more than anything else. Caspian looked comfortable, even smiling whenever Amalia spoke, and there was a warmth in his expression that was more in the ballpark of affection than lust.

Nevertheless, I held onto my reservations about Amalia. I didn’t know her. I didn’t know what kind of person she was, just as I wasn’t sure about Caspian, either. He was a jumble of contradictions, and all my instincts warned me against him—that was, of course, when they weren’t all conspiring to make me melt in his arms.

My only certainty was the way in which Caspian troubled me, deep down.





Blaze





I’d been dancing with Rewa for quite some time, and I’d managed to slip in some questions between our snippets of casual conversation. I got to find out a bit more about her father, Darius, and House Xunn, while she learned some things about me and the fire dragons.

She was a beautiful Mara, I had to admit. And yes, the signs were clear, despite my initial disregard. The way she fluttered her eyelashes at me, the way her hand gently squeezed my shoulder whenever I made her laugh—it was all there.

But my mind kept wandering back to Caia, and I couldn’t help but try to catch glimpses of her from the dancefloor. She’d settled by one of the bars, laughing and chatting to a couple of male Exiled Maras. I didn’t like the way they looked at her. She looked stunning, and I wasn’t comfortable with the attention she was getting. I’d sworn an oath of celibacy, and I had three more years left before I could look for a partner, but Caia stirred me and I didn’t know what to make of it.

I’d rebuffed the advances of many girls back in The Shade. I wasn’t indifferent to said advances, but my oath was important to me, and so was my career in GASP. Everything was good and balanced, until I was assigned to the Eritopian base with Caia. It all changed then, and I had trouble adjusting to being in her presence on a daily basis. My oath was beginning to feel like a bit of an inconvenience.

“One of my three brothers works as a Correction Officer,” Rewa said, continuing our conversation. I’d stopped listening, so I shifted my focus back to her with a polite smile.

“What does he do, as a Correction Officer?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, clearly not interested in the topic anymore. “He doesn’t tell me, and I never ask. All I know is that he helps keep us all safe. Although it’s been a tough job over the past couple of years, given all these disappearances…”

I nodded slowly, then spun her around as the song ended. She laughed and clung to my shoulders, and we both settled into a gentle sway to match the ballad that followed.

“Do the Exiled Maras ever mind-bend the Imen in this city?” I asked, glancing at two servants standing on the edge of the dancefloor with empty trays and equally blank expressions.

“Of course not!” Rewa’s outrage was reflected in her voice, and it made me look at her. She seemed offended that I’d even asked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything,” I said.

“Mind-bending the Imen with no legal or medical basis is strictly forbidden,” Rewa replied. “Anyone caught outside the legal boundaries of the practice is immediately arrested and subject to a trial. If found guilty, they pay a hefty fine. If they’re caught doing it again, it’s a one-way ticket straight to prison. We only use our mind-bending on them if their physicians diagnose them with a mental illness, or depression. And even then, it’s only to plant a suggestion to help them cope with their condition.”

“What about the legal boundaries you mentioned?”

“Well, if they’re suspected of a crime, a Correction Officer is entitled to mind-bend them into telling the truth. But that’s it. That’s all there ever was,” Rewa explained.

“So the House Lords don’t do that to their servants,” I concluded.

“Not unless there’s a legal or medical reason, like I said,” she insisted, her frown telling me not to insist on the matter. She then sighed, visibly saddened. “Some Imen have been traumatized by the disappearance of their family members. It can’t be easy to lose a parent, or a child, or a sibling like that. So the court often agrees with the medics that mind-bending is the best treatment for these people, to help them heal and continue working in Azure Heights. Of course, it’s only done with the Iman’s consent.”