Chapter Nineteen
Lord Rathbone didn’t lie. Dinner had been interesting. The conversation light. The meal heavy, finishing with a goblet of warm blood instead of dessert. Typical of a formal meal in the house of a vampire aristocrat. What Mina found the most interesting was the way Rathbone’s father, the former earl, who went by Lord Petrov, kept most of his comments to himself and his eyes on Mikhail. He watched him as if trying to remember something. Or perhaps trying to remember someone.
In appearance, Lord Rathbone’s father was a mirror image of his son, just less formidable in stature and breadth of chest. While his eyes held all the fire of a young man, his face and demeanor were brittle. He was one of the few vampires left who was there at the beginning, when Queen Morgrid had become ruler of the realm.
The lilting laughter of one of Rathbone’s three concubines who had joined them for dinner interrupted her thoughts. The stunning redhead placed a dainty hand on Mikhail’s sleeve.
“Oh, come now, Captain. I’ll bet in your line of work you have a thousand fascinating stories.”
“They may be a little rough for your liking, my lady,” he responded leisurely, though Mina noted the tightness around his eyes.
“I don’t mind ‘a little rough,’ Captain.”
Mina’s empathic gift showed her the redhead, Lady Sasha, wasn’t simply pretending. Her lust for Mikhail practically hummed in the air around her. Not that Mina could blame her, but the thought of her in his arms made her clench her fists in her lap. There was no reason, since Mikhail gave the lady no encouragement whatsoever.
“Shall we adjourn to the parlor?” Lord Rathbone stood, the candlelight gilding his auburn hair gold. “I believe some musical entertainment is in order.” He smiled down at his concubines. All three standing, with demure bows of the head, they led the party into the large parlor with the grand black-lacquer piano in the corner.
Mina had no parents, so she had never experienced a household where the master and mistress had blood harems. Though Lord Rathbone’s three ladies of nobility couldn’t quite be called a harem, they were still ladies of questionable morals. They reminded her of the women she encountered when Steward Thorwald had sent Mina off to the opera or balls or musicals. They said one thing but meant another, manipulating men with a flicker of lashes, and cutting women who got in the way.
Thankfully, they weren’t at a ball or an opera. And she wasn’t just any lady of the gentry.
She glanced at Mikhail, wondering whether he’d ever had a harem. No. He might be born a gentleman, but he wasn’t of royal blood. Even so, she didn’t imagine he’d ever keep a collection of women for his pleasure.
Mina joined Friedrich on the settee. Mikhail remained standing to the side. Lord Rathbone took a position next to Mina. His father ambled in and seated himself in a well-worn leather chair, the nailheads on the arms having long lost their sparkle.
“Do you have a particular request, my lord?” asked Lady Sasha, her glossy red hair hanging over one pearlescent shoulder.
The brunette seated herself at the piano, flipping through music sheets. And the blonde, beautiful though not as captivating as Lady Sasha, seated herself on a high chair behind a harp.
“You ladies always know better than I.”
Lady Sasha smiled, her beauty shining so bright that Mina felt even more nauseous than before. Lady Sasha whispered something to the brunette, who nodded and began playing a plaintive tune. The blonde joined in with a melodious strumming of the harp. Then Lady Sasha sang, and Mina understood why Lord Rathbone would want to keep such a woman in his possession.
However, as she began to sing about lovers parted at sea and their ardent reunion upon the soft sands by night, and as Mina’s gaze lingered overtly upon Mikhail, her thoughts drifted to the last time they were alone. To his hands on her skin, his lips on her breast, his mouth between her legs.
“Your Highness, you look a bit flushed,” Lord Rathbone whispered close to her ear. “Might I escort you to the balcony for some fresh air?”
She shot up without a word, allowing him to take her through the open doors out onto the darkened and chilly night. What she needed was to speak to Mikhail alone, but even more urgent was her need for Lord Rathbone’s help. Now was as good a time as any to acquire that aid.
He immediately removed his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She crossed her arms and gripped the lapels to keep it tight around her, though the frosty night was welcome on her heated cheeks.
“I’m glad to have you alone, my lord.”
“That makes two of us.”
She ignored his flirtation. “You know you haven’t once asked why we are here or what we’ve come for.”
“I can guess.”
She leaned against the stone banister, the half moon peeking through wispy clouds. “Then please do.”
“As I’ve mentioned, the Black Lily army was destroyed. They’ve lost their numbers. The Bloodguard has rescued you from a horrific fate, so you feel obligation toward them. As the Princess of Arkadia, you seek help in recompense.”
His demeanor changed not one iota, his flirtatious tone ever present, as was his knee-buckling smile. He leaned against the banister, facing her. He tilted his head, his perfect features appearing all the more dazzling by the pale moonlight, but he didn’t interrupt her. Simply waited.
“You are still the lead counselor of the House of Arkadia, are you not?”
“I still share that role with Lord Maksim and Steward Thorwald.”
“I may have looked only like an ornament all of those times I visited the House, but I observed well. We both know that no matter what is decreed on parchment, you are the lead counselor.”
His mouth ticked up into a smile. “I won’t deny it.”
She lifted her hand from his sleeve and gripped the cold banister, needing the tangible feeling of the stone beneath her fingers, of holding onto something sturdy and true. That unfurling bloom within her chest pressed wider, seeking the light that would finally open her to the world.
Lord Rathbone lay his large hand atop hers.
She flinched but didn’t remove her hand from beneath his.
“Your Highness,” he started gently, “tell me.”
Deep breath in, then out. “My lord, I intend to present myself to the House and demand my rights as Queen of Arkadia. Steward Thorwald has kept my throne warm for long enough. I intend to exert my power as the rightful heir of the Arkadian throne, and I am requesting your support. Not just for me, but for all of Varis.”
His winter-blue eyes sparked with supernatural fire. “You will have it.”
She blinked, not expecting it to be quite that easy. “You understand what I’m asking of you? Of the people and the army of Arkadia?”
“Let me see if I have it.” His devilish eyebrow shot up. “You’ve come with full armed guard, intending to stake your claim as queen—as you should—then you plan to rally the resources of the south against King Dominik, since he is trying to force an unwilling alliance of marriage between the two of you. Furthermore, you will ally with the army of the Black Lily, as you are now in the company of the exiled Duke of Winter Hill, to overthrow Queen Morgrid and start some kind of new world order.”
Mina could only stare for a moment, completely at a loss for words.
“Is that your intention, Your Highness?” he probed softly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.
“Yes,” was the only answer she could think to say. “The punishment for treason is death. Supporting my claim would go against Queen Morgrid’s wishes. You have much to lose.”
“Precisely,” he agreed, his tone grave. “I have too much to lose for that power-hungry King Dominik to come in and take it all. Do you know what would happen to Arkadia if you should marry him?” His perfect features hardened, and she saw the charming facade vanish and the vampire thrust forward. “He would rule with an iron fist, and the freedoms and prosperity we’ve enjoyed in the southern provinces would vanish overnight.”
“Then why did you sign contracts with him in Izeling?”
His composure slipped for a second. He glanced through the balcony door opening where Friedrich sat, clapping at the closing of another song.
“Damn, that vixen of the duke’s overheard everything, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” Mina refrained from smiling. “She did.”
He launched forward as if it mattered not at all. “The contracts were to appease the king and keep him out of our territory. We’d counseled with the lords of the House and all were in agreement to sign over some of our resources—equestrian soldiers and Arkadian stock horses. Then the queen made that damned announcement, and we abruptly changed our minds. We left at once without engaging the king on the matter till we could figure out what must be done.” He smiled, and this time Mina did feel her heart race at being the recipient of such a godlike smile. “And here you are, our angel straight from heaven to save us all.”
“I’m not so sure about an angel.”
He edged forward. “You certainly look like one. You are quite breathtaking, Your Highness.”
Laughter lilted from the open doorway. “Wouldn’t your concubines disapprove of you flirting with another woman?”
He let out a full-throated laugh, his breath white curls in the air. “My blood concubines are not mine. They are free to come and go as they please. If they decide to leave Sommersby, they can go without a moment’s notice. And I am not flirting with another woman, I am attempting to get the attention of my future queen.”
Her gaze drifted back to the open doorway.
“Princess Mina, an alliance of our houses would strengthen your claim of the throne.”
Pulled back to Lord Rathbone, she refocused on what he’d said. “Our houses? As in you and me?”
“Is it so far-fetched? You already know I hold the most influence in the House. My support is one thing, but my word as a man at the side of his future bride would be quite another. There would be no dawdling from the cantankerous lords in the House who like to take three months to make a decision. And there is the other dilemma of Steward Thorwald. True, he is only a steward, but he is supported by the queen and has made many allies over the years.”
“So you’re offering me marriage, a political alliance to ensure I am given my birthright?”
“I am offering you marriage because you are a beautiful, intelligent, and beguiling woman whom I would be honored to marry. And whose right as the monarch of our land I would protect with my own life.”
He curled his large hand around hers and pulled it to his chest. She tugged, but he held her, opening his mouth to speak when someone’s footsteps sounded behind them.
“Your Highness.” The rough timbre of Mikhail’s voice rolled in the air.
Mina pulled her hand from Lord Rathbone’s, tucking her arms back under the coat. His coat. “Yes, Captain?”
“His Grace is retiring. Lord Rathbone, we request a private audience with you early in the morning.”
“Private?” asked Mina, frowning.
“Private among our party,” Mikhail clarified, meaning without the concubines and Lord Petrov.
“Granted,” said Lord Rathbone.
Mikhail’s steely gaze dipped to the ground as he gave a tight bow and retreated back inside.
Mina must go to him. He mistook what was taking place out on the balcony. Or did he? The earl had just proposed marriage.
“Captain Mikhail is certainly in earnest about your protection, Your Highness.” His tone was accusing. Knowing.
“The Bloodguard are devoted to me.”
“The captain most of all.”
His expression sealed his knowledge with a smile. “I believe I know the answer to my proposal.”
She smiled with sympathy. “I’m sorry, my lord. I cannot accept.”
“Too late, I see.” He smiled and swept her hand up in a parting kiss. “He’s a bit gruff for one as gentle as you, but I see that in your eyes, I’m already outmatched.” With a deep bow, he filed back through the balcony doorway, but she stopped him before he crossed the threshold.
“My lord?”
“Yes?”
“Steward Thorwald is not a dilemma. Neither are the lords.” She lifted her chin, the strength of her she-beast steeling her backbone. “Arkadia is already mine. I will claim it as their rightful queen.”
Then she would save Izzy and the rest of the world by showing Queen Morgrid what decimation truly looked like.
Lord Rathbone studied her a moment, his wide mouth sliding up into a scintillating smile. “Perhaps you’re a good match for the captain after all.” Then he was gone through the empty parlor.
With a deep inhale of the crystalline air, she enjoyed the righteous passion stirring her blood, willing her to take what was her own.
She walked back into the parlor and draped Lord Rathbone’s coat over the settee for she’d forgotten she still wore it.
“I know who he is, you know.”
Mina spun and gasped, her heart leaping into her throat, only to find Lord Petrov still sitting in his chair in the corner, staring into the fire.
“Pardon, my lord? You know who who is?” Perhaps this was the onset of dementia, sitting in a room all alone, divining strange things from the flames.
Then he turned his gaze on her, his eyes as sharp and intelligent as any vampire she knew. “Mikhail Romanov. I know him.” He smiled like the devil with a secret, chuckling to himself. “And he’s not a lowly lord’s son of Korinth.”
Heart hammering, she asked, “Who is he?”
“Sit down, my dear. I have a story to tell.”