Mark of Betrayal

Page 4


“Hey, all.” Eric popped up out of nowhere.


“Hey, Eric.”


“Amara. Good to see you again.” He embraced me; a guise to whisper closely; “I can smell him all over you.”


“Really?”


“Mm,” he said, rubbing my arms then my back, as if it were just a friendly gesture. “No one else here will recognise the scent, but I’ll just cover it up with mine anyway.”


“Thanks.” I gave him a tighter squeeze, half laughing.


“So, uh, nice, isn’t she?” He cleared his throat and nodded up to Lilith, stuffing his thumbs in his pockets as he stepped back. “This is the only statue Drake didn’t destroy when he took control of this place.”


“Why did he leave this one?”


“Because he sculpted it.”


My eyes shot from the statue to Eric’s. “Serious?”


He nodded.


“Amara!” someone practically squealed my name; I looked up to the steps as a small body burst from among the crowd and flew into my arms. “Oh, I know it’s only been a week since I saw you, Princess, but I missed you. I’ve been so worried about you.”


I closed my eyes, holding Morgaine tight. It was like hugging myself, with her small frame, skinny arms and the strawberry shampoo she’d started using since she fell in love with mine. “I missed you, too. And, hey, thanks for getting rid of the crowd.”


She pulled back from the hug and ducked her head from Mike’s vehemence. “That’s okay. I knew you weren’t ready for that yet.”


I nodded. “You ‘get’ me.”


“I do.”


We both looked at Mike, who rolled his eyes and wandered forward, carrying my suitcase rather than dragging it over the gravel.


“Come on.” Morgaine took my hand. “I want you to meet your House.”


I tried to pay attention to introductions, but all the names and faces blurred together. By the time it was over, I’d nicknamed everyone, but could only remember three; one of them being Moustache Man, another was Portly Woman who Speaks Her Mind When No One Asks and, last, Man With Grey Sideburns. Eventually the crowd dissipated and Mike came back through the white doors again, with a newspaper tucked under his arm and an eager smile accompanying his warm eyes. “Ready for the grand tour, then, baby?”


I yawned again. “I’m ready for bed.”


Morgaine linked her arm through mine. “Come on. You’ll wake up when you’ve seen your new room.”


As I stepped over the threshold of the manor, my gaze followed two marble staircases that parted over double doors, stopping on the second floor landing where it seemed the doorway had simply duplicated and moved up a level, like an elevator. One sitting over the other. I wondered why they needed two doors to what was probably the same room.


Somewhere in the distance, the click of heels on the white marbled floors and quiet chatter of what I assumed was staff made the manor feel more like a museum than a supposed home. But the warm, soft scent of fresh-baked bread gave me an instant smile. “Wow,” I breathed.


“I know, right?” Morgaine said. “Look up.”


Above me, the high ceilings, rising all the way through each floor of the manor, opened out to a stained-glass dome; its picture looked like something inspired by Michelangelo, shining gloriously with the afternoon sun reaching through the colours. “Who is that? In the glass?”


“That’s Queen Lilith and Peter—her betrothed.”


“Betrothed?”


“Yes. In order to rule the Three Worlds, Lilith had to marry into certain politically influential families. Peter was a vampire of noble blood, and the two were forced to marry by their fathers. But they hated each other,” she said. “In the end, though, after Peter tried to kill her, they fell in love.”


“Hm, and I thought my relationship was weird.”


“No. Believe me—” Morgaine started walking, dragging me along, “—you have no idea. They were the most twisted, messed-up couple in the history of our kind. So, anyway, there are two more like this dome on the other ends of the manor. Each one depicts Lilith’s story from beginning, to middle—” she pointed up, “—and end.”


Mike cleared his throat.


“You okay, Mike?” I spun to look at him, standing behind me.


“Mike’s bed is positioned under the portrayal of Lilith’s end.” Morgaine tried to hold back her smile.


“Yeah, so I go to sleep every night only too aware of the horrible things Drake could do if he catches you.”


“He’d need more than an army to get past you.” I grinned.


Mike nodded, his inner ‘knight’ rising. “Damn right.”


“Shall we continue?“ Morgaine took my hand and walked me forward a few steps. “Through those doors between the staircases is the Great Hall. You’ll need to remember that because we hold most of our gatherings there.”


“Except for House meetings,” Mike added. “We hold those in a function room.”


“But Private Council meetings in the Round Room,” Morg said.


I nodded, remembering vague details about the Round Room.


“And if you look down there—” Morgaine pointed to an archway on my left, “—at the end of the manor is the Throne Room. That’s where we hold sessions of Court.”


“Throne Room?”


“Mm-hm.”


“Isn’t that going a little far with the whole monarchy thing?”


“No. Amara, you are royalty—royalty has a throne. Get used to it.”


“So, I have to sit on some big chair and tell people what to do all day?”


“Not all day, no. And you won’t be sitting on the throne until you’ve taken your oath and been crowned. So stop worrying.”


“Besides, I’m sure you’ll pretty much lose focus and stare out the window at the trees all day.” Mike patted my shoulder, as if doing that would make his insulting remark seem like a humoured observation among friends.


“That reminds me.” I turned to Morgaine. “The trees around that wall at the gate—are they natural?”


“Yeah, why do you ask?”


“I dunno.” I shrugged. “They just looked a little out of place.”


“They are,” she said. “Some say the forest bordering Loslilian is enchanted—that it grows legs and moves to protect things as needed.”


“Weird. So, how long have those trees been there then?”


“Well, the forest has been here since the beginning of time, really, but the trees at the gate grew up around the entrance shortly after Vampirie gave the throne to Lilith and she swore her oath.”


“Wow.”


“Yep. Now, also through that archway—” she pointed to my left again, past a parlour with curvy, antique-looking furniture and floods of light brightening the pale colours, “—is the common rooms, kitchen and dining areas—well, causal dining. We dine formal for dinner every night in the Great Hall.”


“Really? Every night?”


“Yep. It’s tradition.”


“Whose tradition?”


“Lilith’s, actually. One she started when she ruled. The vamps didn’t keep that tradition, or any others, when they took over, but we’re keen to bring them all back.”


“So I have to eat with a table full of people every night of the week.”


“Yes, and you’ll love it.”


Both Mike and I laughed in the back of our throats. “You don’t know me very well, then, Morgaine.”


“It’s too bad. You’ll be queen soon, which means you, of all people, have more reason to adhere to tradition. You just have to get over it.” She skipped ahead of me; I headed up the stairs slowly behind her, taking everything in.


“This place is huge.”


“Yep. It has nineteen bedrooms in the west wing—”


“West is right of the front door,” Mike added from behind.


I looked down at him. “Thanks, that was my next question.”


“And nineteen bedrooms in the east wing, as well,” Morgaine continued in her ‘tour guide’ voice. “There are thirty staff rooms, which, because the land slopes down on the south side of the manor, sit at ground level under the Great Hall.”


“Like I said—” I stopped on the landing and turned back to wait for Mike, who was too busy texting on his phone to keep up with Morgaine and I, “—it’s big.”


“It is.” Morgaine stopped by another staircase, hidden from where we stood in the entranceway, leading upward, back toward the front wall of the manor. “Now, hurry up. I have other guests arriving in a half hour.”


“Yeah, Mike. Hurry up,” I said.


“Sorry.” He stuffed his phone in his pocket.


“Okay, so, this staircase—” Morgaine started up it, “—will lead you to the west wing’s third floor, and the mirroring staircase will lead to the east wing.”


“What’s in the east wing?”


“Mostly bedrooms.”


“Which wing has the library?”


“West wing,” both my tour guides said.


I smiled widely, following Morgaine up the stairs. “I think I’ll be spending a bit of time in that room.”


“I’m sure you will.”


When we reached the third floor, the windows that lined the entire front of the manor became floodgates for white sunlight to brighten the corridor, lighting a lengthy path from where we stood to where the corridor ended after about the fourteenth window.


“Okay,” Morgaine said, walking faster. “Rooms one and two are empty right now and rooms four and five, right beside the room at the end, are mine and Eric’s.”


“What about that one?” I pointed to a set of mahogany doors, sitting grandly at the centre of the corridor, the frame intricately carved with detail. “Is that the library?”


“Yes. That’s your private entrance.”


And it was a perfect entrance. It stood out, unlike the portal sitting inconspicuously in the wall back at my old school.


Morgaine’s tiny, cold little fingers tightened on mine. “You okay?”


I nodded. “Libraries always make me miss David.”


“Well, you can spend all afternoon in there, once we get you settled.”


“Cool. So, is it a big library—like on Beauty and the Beast?” I asked.


“Trust you to ask that,” Mike grumbled from behind; I smiled back at him.


“Yes,” Morgaine said. “It is. The main section is two floors deep; picture floor to ceiling bookshelves.”


I walked with my eyes closed for a second. “Picturing.”


“And there’s a special section on the first floor, where we keep the scrolls and other ancient books. But it’s closed off—locked. You wouldn’t even know it was there if I didn’t tell you.”


“Why not? Is it hidden behind a secret passage?” I laughed, but Morgaine didn’t.


“Yes.”


“Oh.” I frowned. “Well, why is it locked?”


“To keep people out.”


“Including me?”


“Yes.”


“Well, why would you tell me about it then? You know I’ll find a way to go down there.”


Morgaine laughed, looking at Mike. “I know. That’s why I told you about it. If you’d found out by snooping around, you would definitely go down there, but, if I tell you about it and request that you only go down there with me or Mike, even Arthur, then you can’t get into any trouble.”


“Trouble?”


“Yes. The scrolls and parchments we keep are very old. If you handle them the wrong way, you could destroy them.”


“So, why is Arthur allowed to take me down there—I thought we didn’t trust him?”


“We don’t. Yet.” She glanced at Mike. “But he’s been handling those scrolls for hundreds of years. He’s had access to them all—we’ve nothing to hide from him in the Scroll Room.”


“Well, when I can see it?”


“Later,” was all she said.


At the very end of the corridor, another grand door greeted us; just like the library door, but white.


“Your room,” Morgaine said, letting go of my hand.


“And on the east wing,” Mike said, stopping behind me, “it’s identical. Only difference being there’s no library, so there’s an extra few rooms.”


“Now, normally the rooms on the third floor are for high-ranking officials only, but we’ve been forced to make an exception to that rule.”


“What do you mean?”


“The second room from the stairs there—” she pointed down the hall, “—will be Arthur’s.”


Mike’s nostrils flared.


“Why?” I asked, looking away from him. “Is Mike gonna let him be on my council now?”


“No. It was a condition of his helping us that he get a room in the same wing as you.”


“On the same floor,” Mike added, the flaring nostrils spreading out to make his face go red.


Morgaine laughed. “Mike tried giving him a room on the ground floor.”


“It was still in the west wing,” he said.


“Yes,” Morgaine said with mocking sympathy. “But it didn’t quite go to plan, did it, Mikey?”


I laughed into my hand. “Has he arrived yet?”

Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.