Page 49 of Dhampira

“Thank you,” I murmured as a large man with shaggy blond hair placed a plate of turnips in front of me. At least I thought they were turnips. Golden-white, they sat atop a thick, golden sauce speckled with greenery.

The man nodded and then moved away. As he headed for the door, a scorpion tail waved from a split in the back of his trousers.

Vander appeared in the doorway. Dressed in the Drakhold’s black and crimson, he nodded to several passing servants before taking up his post just inside the door. His russet hair waved back from his forehead, the ends curling slightly around his ears as if he’d washed it and let it air-dry.

His silver eyes flicked to mine.

Jerking my head down, I grabbed a fork and speared a maybe-turnip. The specks of green were probably basil. Did they have basil in Nocta? The land was one with Ghedda before the elves created the Feyline. Then again, maybe magic had affected the herbs. It was the sort of thing Mama would know.

I pushed the turnip through a puddle of golden sauce. The merman’s limp body flashed in my head, a widening pool of blood spreading beneath him. Bile burned my throat, and I swallowed convulsively as I set down my fork and reached for my water goblet.

“Blood-wine for the princess,” Rasimir said. As I froze, a servant swooped in and plucked the water from the table. A second servant took her place and topped off my wineglass.

Rasimir raised his own glass in a toast. “Lorcan had good things to say about your progress this afternoon. You make all of Nocta proud.”

I looked at Lorcan, who sat directly across from me. He’d changed after the waterfall, abandoning his black leather for a coat stitched with silver thread. He dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin, then leaned back in his chair.

“Yes, Majesty. The princess managed to siphon gills and clan markings from the merman. I believe she would have been able to breathe underwater for a time had she attempted it.”

Rasimir sipped his wine. His fangs showed as he smiled at me. “Something to try next time.”

Not if I could help it. But I couldn’t, at least not yet. I couldn’t refuse him, either, so I pasted what I hoped was a deferential expression on my face.

“Yes, Father.”

“And how long did the gills persist?”

Foreboding slid through me. His smile hadn’t faltered, but something about it was suddenly sharper.

The servants had left the dining room. Across the table, Lorcan watched me with his usual detachment. I didn’t dare look at Vander, but his presence was a shadow at the edge of my vision.

“About an hour,” I said. “The markings disappeared after a few minutes.” My tears had lasted a lot longer.

“You’ll do better next time.”

Or else. The threat stretched between us, tethered by Rasimir’s needle-sharp smile and the knot of fear in my chest.

“Yes,” I rasped. Was this what Mama had endured? Threats wrapped in smiles? Perhaps that explained why she’d kept Rasimir’s identity from me. She hadn’t wanted me to know I was sired by a being so cruel and heartless.

He didn’t hurt me, her voice said in my memory. I did what I had to do…

And now I had a similar choice to make. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps. If I wanted to live, I had to kill.

Rasimir placed his napkin beside his plate. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to hone your skills, Corinthe. For now, however, a different kind of duty demands attention.” He lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial. “As a royal, you’ll find duty always calls. Even during dinner.” He looked toward the doorway. “Captain, please fetch our guest.”

My pulse quickened as Vander turned and disappeared through the doorway. Silence filled the dining room, broken only by the snapping fire. Lorcan didn’t move. Rasimir looked from the doorway to me, an air of anticipation around him.

I curled my fingers around the arm of my chair. What kind of “guest” was Vander fetching? Not Mama. It couldn’t be Mama. The knot in my chest thickened. If Rasimir had my mother…

No. I wouldn’t even consider it.

Vander entered, one hand clamped tightly around Duncan Bagley’s arm. Duncan’s clothing was rumpled and dirty, his cornstalk-colored hair disheveled. A bruise darkened his jaw, and his bottom lip was split. He held a bandaged hand against his chest. The white material was pristine, as if the injury underneath was freshly wrapped.

I sat up straighter, my heart thumping painfully. Duncan spotted me, his blue eyes going wide.

“Corinthe!” He winced as Vander brought him to a halt, but he strained forward like he meant to break Vander’s grip and rush to my side. Vander jerked him closer, and Duncan winced again. Then he swallowed hard as he took in my evening gown and the thick braids Delphine had pinned around my head. “They told me you were here, but I thought they were lying.” Tears filled his eyes, and a low sob escaped him. “They lied about so many things.”

I looked at Rasimir, my cautious compliance disintegrating. “You won’t hurt him.”