Page 72 of Dhampira

Although neither strategy had worked for Alon.

“You’re a target,” Rasimir said, an odd note in his voice. It was almost…melancholy. His gaze lingered on the comb in my hair. “The moment you sit on a throne, the whole world wants to knock it from under you.”

I let the breath I’d been holding ease past my lips. Maybe my fortunes had turned, and he’d continue speaking of himself.

“Will you try to unseat me, Daughter?”

Or not.

I looked him dead in the eye. “I have no desire to take your throne, Father.”

Silence held, the air between us so taut it might have shattered.

Rasimir chuckled, the sound breaking the tension. “You really are just like her,” he said, shaking his head. “Lilawen wasn’t frightened of anything.”

He was right about my mother. But he was wrong about me. I hadn’t stopped being afraid since I touched the tiara on Cyprio Kormaz’s cart.

Melancholy returned to Rasimir’s tone as he looked toward the maze again. “In many ways, she was the more ruthless of the two of us. Scratch the surface of any assassin, and you’ll find a thief. Lilawen stole into my castle. She slipped under my defenses and stole my heart. Then she stole you from me.” Green eyes met mine once more. “She stole your birthright, Corinthe.”

“She protected me,” I said before I could think better of it.

“Did she?” Rasimir faced me fully, all signs of amusement gone from his face. “Is that why you come to me ignorant and untrained? What do you think would have happened if the Crau Setra found you before I did?”

My heart sped up, doubts crowding my mind. Had Mama left me defenseless? Had she known the witches would try to murder me? But no, Rasimir was a liar. This was just another game.

Facing the chamber, Rasimir extended an arm toward the vase of flowers in the center of a table. Wariness surging, I turned with him, my heart speeding up when blue danced over his fingers.

“Uci,” he said.

The flowers shriveled, the stems turning black. The blooms sagged over the vase. Dead.

Ice slid through my veins. Slowly I looked at Rasimir. He could kill with a word. Without asking, I knew this was one of the vors my father had possessed for a very long time.

He put a hand on my elbow and turned me back toward the maze. “Your fangs and ability to walk in the naked sun are nothing to a well-trained spellcaster. The witch in the dungeon could have stopped your heart with two syllables. As vampires, we can only take what we drink. The witches hold magic on their tongues. Their blood teems with it, and they guard it jealously, marrying for power and nothing else, because nothing else matters to them. The coven leaders approve all matches to ensure any children possess desirable gifts. Your existence is an affront to every witch alive.” Rasimir looked at me. “Lilawen left you at their mercy.”

Lies. He wanted me to be afraid. But the doubt remained. My mother had worked hard to protect me. Why would she conceal something so important? If she was as gifted a witch as Vander and Lorcan claimed, she must have known spells. Why not teach me how to use them?

“I’m not like Lilawen,” Rasimir said. “I won’t keep the vor scapa from you. Lorcan and Vander understand it in different ways. Under their instruction, I expect you to become a formidable force in our battles with the witches and those who support them.”

He seemed to wait for a response, so I inclined my head. “As you wish.”

“I trust your outing today was instructive?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “No surprises?”

Words stuck in my throat, and a new suspicion formed in my head. With all the powers he’d stolen, had he gained the ability to read minds? Surely not. Lorcan and Vander would have warned me.

“I’m not sure anything can surprise me anymore,” I said.

His smile broadened enough to show his fangs. “I wouldn’t be so certain. Nocta may have a few surprises in store for you yet.”

Dread marched in step with my heart. Rasimir’s smile lingered as he leaned a forearm on the railing.

“Lorcan and Vander both reported being impressed with you.” He tipped his head, the gems in his crown winking. “Are they trustworthy, I wonder? Or will they use you for their own designs?”

Gods, what did he know? What did he suspect I knew? I was playing a game, and the rules kept changing without warning. My nerves stretched, the center fraying as I struggled not to snap.