Kane
If I open my mouth to reprimand Opal right now, a rivulet of curses will be released into the world the likes of which no one has heard before. I have already tried politely, asking her to stop verbally assaulting Emory. When that didn’t work, I ordered her with a mind message, one she clearly chose to ignore in the same way she failed to mind the decree I sent out earlier. No, Opal is out of control, and she’s doing her best to push me beyond my limits.
I should’ve known better than to bring Emory here. I knew that Opal wouldn’t like it. Despite our agreement that neither of us is romantically limited in our relationship, Opal sees any other female I take any interest in whatsoever as a threat against her position as the future queen of Crescent Peak. So even if Emory really was overweight as Opal tried to imply, if she had a snaggletooth and beady eyes, body odor and excessive mucus issues, Opal would see her as a potential rival.
And Opal loves the energy a rivalry brings her. She thinks it puts her in her element, that it makes her seem more powerful as she uses what she would refer to as wit to poke and jab at her enemy. It’s nothing but bullying, and for Opal, it tends to work because there are few with the same station that she holds. Those beneath her feel subservient already, and her chiding just makes it worse.
It's better for me to keep my mouth shut and make it through this dinner than to try to defend Emory because it will do nothing but cause an argument, and though there are no other visiting dignitaries at the table, I know better than to cause a scene in front of my mother. She may be queen only in name now, but I still respect her. Already, she is giving me sharp looks from the other end of the table.
“Opal,” I try again, breathing deeply, “why don’t you tell us more about the wedding?” It’s the only topic that is safe at the moment.
As Opal begins to describe various aspects of the wedding, I finish my blood and sit back in my chair. I won’t be attempting to eat any food tonight, not after the day I’ve had. Food is fine for vampires, generally speaking, but it doesn’t do us much good nutritionally, and it is often tricky for our bodies to digest when we eat in excess. The way I’m feeling right now, I may as well ensure I don’t cause myself any unnecessary suffering later.
Listening to Opal causes enough suffering for even a vampire’s lifetime.
My eyes fall on Emory as Opal discusses the problem with the moon we settled earlier. Emory appears to be paying attention to the princess, but I don’t think she truly is. She isn’t really eating. It’s more of a march of food around her plate, with the occasional small bite slid between her lips. I can imagine a day like this would leave one without much of an appetite.
I don’t like the way Rainer is protecting her. He’s sitting too close to her. He’s made one too many overly protective comments to Opal or Jacob. It’s not that I don’t appreciate him sticking up for Emory, but he seems to be taking a liking to her beyond his normal accepting self. Rainer knows a good person from a bad one from the moment he meets them, and he will embrace a good person as if they have always been friends while making life miserable for anyone who doesn’t meet his moral criteria. It is why he hates my brother so fiercely but would do anything in the world for me.
He knows that Emory is a good person, so he will do whatever it takes to make her feel welcome here, and to me, that looks a bit too much like… something else. Like genuine interest.
I don’t like it.
Opal pauses to take a drink of her blood, and Jacob takes the opportunity to steer the conversation in a new direction. “You have a sister?” he asks Emory, and I immediately sense her body tensing up, even from two seats away.
Quietly, she says, “I do.”
“But you have different mothers?” It’s more of a statement than a question when Jacob asks. I wonder why he suddenly knows so much about Moonraker pack. He never took any interest in them when we were actively waging war against them. I was on the battlefield nearly every day for two years. Where the fuck was he? We are allies, after all.
“That’s right,” Emory says, and Rainer’s right hand disappears beneath the table again. Is he… touching her?
“Was her mother a breeder?” Opal blurts out. “I’ve heard about those creatures before, women who make a living out of bedding rich, powerful werewolves. Was something the matter with your mother?”
“Opal?” I say but I don’t get any other words out before Emory answers.
“No, my sister’s mother wasn’t a breeder. It’s not for me to say what transpired between my parents.” I can hear the sorrow in her voice, and I am regretting bringing her. I should’ve known better.
“Is that why you wanted to become a feeder?” Opal asks, poking again. “For the same reason your kind becomes breeders? Were you hoping to gain power and position?”
“Opal!” This time it isn’t a question. “You know this wasn’t her choice. Why would you ask a question like that?”
“Just because it didn’t appear that it was her choice, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t,” she says, as if I’ve been duped. “Who knows what a werewolf will do.”
“She’s not a werewolf,” I correct my fiancée. “She’s a wolf shifter. There is a difference, you know? Werewolves don’t even exist. And I strongly suggest both you and your brother stop asking Princess Emory questions as you are irritating me by upsetting my guest.”
“Well, I’m sorry.” And there it is, the tone I was looking to avoid. “I guess I didn’t realize she was so very important to you. Princess! She’s not a princess. She’s an Alpha’s daughter. I’m the only princess here.”
“All right, Opal.” My tone alone is enough to make her curl in on herself slightly. “Let it go.”
“Your Majesty?”
Emory’s sweet voice has me ripping my eyes away from Opal’s glare. I take a deep breath, already knowing what she’s going to ask me. “Yes, Princess Emory?” I emphasize the title I have bestowed upon her. Whether she was a princess or not when she arrived, she’s one now because I said so. I could proclaim my untouched fork a princess and that would speak it into existence.
“May I please be excused?” Her voice quivers slightly, and I can tell she’s trying to escape the table before she begins to cry.
Without answering her directly, I signal for the servant who has been assigned to her to escort her to her room.
Before the man can step forward, Rainer says, “I’ll take her.”
I meet his gaze for a moment, contemplating whether or not I should allow it. My best friend taking a troubled guest back to her room makes perfect sense. So why do I find myself saying, “That won’t be necessary.”
Rainer takes a deep breath, holds it, considers arguing with me, but by the time he picks his poison, the servant has already helped Emory out of her chair, and she is making her way out of the dining room at such a pace, it is unnecessary for Rainer to follow. He shakes his eyes at me, a sign between us that he disagrees with my decision, but I have no reply.
I am about to end this entire fiasco anyway.
The woman who had been sitting next to Emory all night, an older woman who has been a member of the court for decades says, “Thank god she’s gone. Now I can breathe again,” and several of the people sitting near her laugh.
I am taking names now. Those people just ate their last dinner at this table.
As for Opal, she has a very satisfied look on her face as she daintily wipes her mouth with her napkin, and I want to reach across my brother and slap her.
Lex, who has been unusually quiet for him, also has an completely placid look on his face I can’t quite understand, but I won’t create more problems by asking him why he’s so happy. Instead,
I excuse myself from the table, ready to end this catastrophe of a dinner.
* * *
Emory
I don’t make it too far out of the dining room before the tears begin to streak my face. I swipe them away and continue to march down the hallways, trying to remember which direction I’d come from. I hadn’t been paying that much attention when Rainer led me in since we’d been chatting, and I’d foolishly assumed he’d escort me back to my room—or someone would anyway.
The servant who has been assigned to take me back to my room does not seem so excited to be doing so, and he’s a good ten feet behind me when I reach a hallway I’m unsure of. Did we come from the left, down by that suit of armor, or the right, by that painting of a peacock with blood dripping from its mouth?
“It’s a right, my lady,” the servant says, and I turn to nod in thanks as I turn to the right and go past the peacock. At the end of this hall, there’s only one way to go, and when I reach the end of the next hall, I remember the painting of a blood red ocean.
After that, I recognize where I am so I am able to make it to my room without the servant’s help. I find the door with the butterflies and flowers and knock. I’m not sure why. No one answers, so I let myself in and find that Helga and Nellie are not here.
It’s just as well. I’m not in the mood to explain to anyone what has happened anyway. I was making it through dinner all right until the questions about Lola kept coming up. After that, I couldn’t keep my emotions in check anymore.
Opal is a raging bitch.
I can’t imagine why in the world someone as intelligent and understanding as King Kane would want to marry her.
Pulling my earrings off, I manage to kick out of my heels and lower myself to the ground. The necklace I’m wearing seems to weigh at least ten pounds, so when I remove it, I literally feel like a weight has been taken off of my shoulders.
For me to think that King Kane is anything but evil is a complete change from my feelings toward him only a short time ago. It just goes to show that there truly are two sides to every story.
Taking deep breaths, I decide to focus on getting to bed. I am exhausted in every way, and I hope that, when my head hits the pillow, I can sleep for at least ten or twelve hours.
I do my best to reach around and unzip my gown, but I can only get it down about an inch or two, then, I can no longer reach. I am flexible, but it’s a stretch even for me, and then, the zipper sticks. “Oh, come on!” I growl, thinking I am going to rip the dress.
It’s certainly not the most comfortable thing I’ve ever had on, and I can’t imagine sleeping in it. I try again, but I can’t quite get my hands in position to work the zipper down.
Cursing, I think I will have to figure out where Nellie or Helga are.
A soft knock on my door makes me think that perhaps they’ve felt my distress or otherwise been ordered to come to my room.
I throw the door open, but it’s not my maids standing on the other side, and when I lock eyes with him, all I can think to ask is, “What in the world are you doing here?”