Aria

Aria stretched leisurely the next morning and cracked open her eyes to find the thick drapes tugged over the windows, blocking out the sun. She rested her hand on the indent where Braith had slept; it was still warm, but she knew he was gone from their rooms. She climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Yesterday had been a day of celebration, the first one in months, but today was back to reality. After she’d showered, dressed, and entered their main sitting room, her gaze fell on her beautiful ice blue gown lying on the sofa where Braith had tossed it. She’d have to see if Maggie could fix the zipper Braith had ruined last night in his eagerness to get it off her.

Lifting her head, her gaze fell on the window seat where she spent many hours with Braith while they read together. Walking over to the window, she peered out the glass and down on the gardens that had already been cleaned up since last night. All of the chairs and rose petals were gone. The dew covering the flowers within the garden glistened in the morning sun.

Her gaze fell to the fountain, the one Atticus had created in memory of Genny. The one where the two lovers would always gaze upon each other, but never touch. The memory of her dream with Braith and the black roses teased at the corners of her mind, but she shoved it aside. She would not think about the unhappiness of that time when they had so much to look forward to.

Turning away from the window, she hurried to the door and slipped out. She walked down the hallway and descended the steps to the main entranceway below. The first time she’d entered the palace, it had all been so overwhelming and foreign to her. She’d been certain she was being led to her death. Now, it was her home.

Her footsteps were silent in the foyer. The call of her blood within Braith let her know he was somewhere in the palace, but she would find him later. He was most likely in a meeting if he’d left while she slept.

A vampire stepped forward to open the front door for her. She bowed her head in thanks to him before stepping outside. She tilted her head back to take in the sun as she savored the noises of the town. Children ran to and fro in the streets, shouting happily to one another. Hammers rang out from the town as more buildings were repaired and new ones were built. Chickens squawked, and the jingle of horse’s harnesses and saddles filled the air as their hoof beats sounded on the road.

Descending the stairs, she wasn’t surprised when Xavier slipped from the shadows of the stable to fall into step beside her. They didn’t speak as they made their way through the town with Aria calling out greetings or halting to speak with those who stopped her. It took far longer than she’d intended to reach the small dress shop at the bottom of the hill situated near the gates.

A sign on the door said the shop was closed, but Aria tried the handle anyway. It remained locked beneath her grasp.

“You want a dress?” Xavier asked from behind her.

Aria brushed back her braid and glanced down at her simple brown pants and forest green shirt. “You make me sound as bad as Melinda thinks I am,” she muttered.

“You avoid the tailor like cats avoid baths.”

She scowled at him as she turned away from the shop, her gaze scanning the crowd. The apartment above the dress shop led her to believe Milly lived above the store. So if she wasn’t here, then where else would she be?

Lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, Aria strode back up the hill toward the palace. She didn’t go for the main door, but around the side and beneath the trestle to the vast garden beyond. After becoming queen, Aria had knocked out a wall to make it so everyone could enter the garden. Its beauty should be shared with them all.

The garden had been empty when she’d looked out earlier, but it was so large that someone could wander it for hours, enjoying the numerous flowers and trees, before ever making it to the center.

Xavier didn’t question her, but she could feel his curiosity mounting as he walked by her side through the rows of privet, fruit trees, roses, lilacs, lilies, and other numerous plants. At the end of the pathway, Aria stopped when she spotted a woman standing before the fountain. The woman had her head tipped back and her hands clasped behind her back as she gazed at the figures in the center.

Aria stood and stared at the woman in the flowing, deep blue gown that hugged her rounded figure and spilled across the earth around her. Her wheat-colored hair had been cut into a bob a couple inches above her shoulders. Aria could see nothing of her features as her back was to them, but if this woman was who Aria believed her to be, then the woman’s eyes were blue.

“Stay here,” Aria said to Xavier, and he shot her a disgruntled look. “Please.”

He glanced at the woman before bowing his head. Aria made her way forward. “Milly?” The woman remained gazing at the fountain, lost in a deep reverie. “Camille?”

The woman stiffened; her clasped hands fell away from her back as she turned. Her mouth parted when she spotted Aria. She dipped into a graceful curtsy that would have had Aria sprawling on her ass, as her feet were twisted awkwardly and she was off balance when she made the move.

“Your Highness,” she greeted.

“Please rise,” Aria said quietly.

The woman rose before her. Aria’s gaze skimmed over her beautiful features before settling on her clear, aqua-colored eyes.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought these gardens were open to the public,” she said hastily.

“They are,” Aria replied as she stopped before her. “You are Camille.”

The woman’s face became composed, but Aria sensed her distress. “My name is Milly,” she replied.

“But you were once called Camille.”

Her rosebud lips compressed for a minute before she spoke again. “Many lifetimes ago, yes.”

“Your sister was Genny.”

Tears filled her eyes before she wiped them away. “How do you know that?”

For a minute, Aria couldn’t speak. When her fingers had fallen upon the intricate design in Tempest’s gown that had resembled a G, she’d dimly recalled what Atticus had written in his journal. His cousin, Merle, had run into Camille many years ago in a place called Paris. Camille had been designing clothing at the time.

“She seemed happy enough,” Merle had told him. “But she told me she misses Genny every day and she actually hides a little G in every piece of clothing she creates.”

Aria hadn’t dared to hope it could actually be a G she’d discovered instead of some random formation within the lace, but she’d still been drawn to seek out the woman who had created the dress. She had to know. This was the one vampire in all the world Atticus had still had some care for throughout his life, the only one he’d sought to protect.

“Atticus kept journals,” Aria said to her, and Camille made a choked sound. “He also kept your sister’s journals.”

“All these years,” Camille whispered.

“He loved her very much.”

“He did. More than I’d ever believed possible for two people to love each other. Because of what I saw between the two of them, I’ve waited my whole life for that kind of love and will continue to wait. Atticus was once a very good man.”

“I know,” Aria said.

“He was once my friend, my brother. What they did to Genny broke him.”

“I know,” Aria said again and rested her hand on Camille’s arm.

The woman looked amazed by the gesture. “Yes, from what I’ve seen and heard, you would know what it’s like to be loved and to love like that.”

“Atticus continued to try to look out for you over the years.”

“I know. It’s why I’m still alive. His men found me in India and brought me to safety before he destroyed much of the world. I stayed in a town a couple hundred miles away while he lived, but decided to move here after he passed. I wanted to see his children. I’d heard they were happy, that they loved deeply and were loved in return. I had to see that at least a piece of him had survived and found the joy Atticus and Genny were denied.”

Aria found it difficult to speak around the lump in her throat. “The journals, if you would like them, I think they belong to you.” She would remove the information about Melinda’s true parentage from them, but Camille deserved to have them.

“I would love them! My sister”—her hand pressed against her chest—“she was my best friend, my protector. We were supposed to always be together. Us against the world. The loss of a sibling…” Her voice trailed off as she gave Aria a sympathetic smile. “But then, you also know what that is like.”

A sharp twinge went through Aria’s heart at the reminder of the loss of Daniel. At one point, she and her brothers were all going to grow old together, or at least as old as a rebel could. Then, she and William had been changed and faced with the knowledge that Daniel would grow old and die while they remained untouched by the years. They were supposed to have had those years of Daniel’s life though, and his children and grandchildren to watch over as they continued his legacy.

And Atticus was supposed to have had Genny, but if they had been granted the life they should have had, I would not have Braith.

She knew life was not always fair and could often be cruel, but there was still much happiness to be found within it.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Camille said to her.

“And I’m sorry for yours.”

“How did you know who I was?”

Aria wiped away her tears and smiled at her. “Merle told Atticus you put a little G into everything you create. I spotted a G in Tempest’s train yesterday.”

Camille laughed. “I’d forgotten I’d told Merle that.”

“Would you like to see the journals now?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

Aria turned to find that Braith, Jack, and Gideon had joined Xavier on the pathway. They were all frowning at her as she made her way to them. Resting her hand on Braith’s cheek, she rose on her toes to kiss him.

“You are no longer the oldest vampire, once again,” she told him. His brow furrowed as he gazed between her and Camille. He may not be the oldest, again, but he was still clearly the most powerful. Even with her many years, Camille’s strength couldn’t compare to what Braith radiated. “I’d like for you to meet Camille.”

Realization dawned in his striking eyes, and his mouth parted as he gazed at her in wonder. Camille went to curtsy, but he took hold of her arm, stopping her before she could. “No,” he said in a hoarse voice. “You do not have to do that, not for me.”

Jack’s eyes swung between Braith and Camille. Xavier’s head tilted in that studious way of his. Aria could almost hear the wheels spinning in his mind. Gideon looked as if he’d been socked in the stomach as he gazed at Camille. Gideon hadn’t read the journals, he had no idea who Camille was, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

“Will you tell us about our father?” Jack inquired as he stepped forward.

Shock rippled through Aria as Jack called Atticus his father; most times he referred to him as Atticus, or that man, but it seemed as if most of his anger toward his father had worn away over time.

Camille’s smile grew. “I would love to.”