Page 14 of Rite of Blood and Secrets

She pats the bed and Pip jumps up, lying with her head on her paws. Eliza ruffles the fur on the top of her head and she closes her eyes and lets out a low rumble.

That's a good sign. Pip reacted poorly to the servant and he was a vampire too, which probably means she was responding to something other than his nature. And maybe that means my trust in Eliza isn't misplaced.

"See, we're all good. I'll tell the servants to bring some food for her. Is there anything in particular that she likes?"

"I don't know," I admit. "Mostly she just ate the scraps left over from our meals." I feel guilty having to admit it to someone, even if I know I gave her the best possible.

"There are plenty of dogs here," Eliza says, gesturing back to my dress as a reminder that I'm supposed to take it off. "I'm sure the kitchens will know what to make her."

"Thank you, that's very kind." Even as I say the words, I realise I've decided I'm not running away today. If everything she's said is to be believed, then my options are to stay or to die. Maybe I'll end up deciding that the latter is a preferable option, but until then, I want to find out more.

The dress drops to the floor and I step out of it, leaving me in the threadbare shift I've got underneath.

Eliza takes one look at it and heads over to a set of drawers, pulling out a crisp white replacement. She holds it out to me.

"Thank you." I take it from her and just stand there, not really knowing what to do.

She raises an eyebrow, then turns around. "You'll have to get used to it. I'm here now, but normally it'll be a maid who helps you get dressed."

"Do I really need help getting dressed?" I strip my current shift over my head and drop it to the floor, replacing it with the new one. The fabric feels like nothing against my skin, both soft and pleasant, and unlike anything I've ever worn before.

"I'll let you answer that when we've put the dress on you," she responds, turning back around and scooping up the clothing. "Do you have any attachment to any of this?"

I shake my head. "My brother bought me the dress for tonight."

She snorts. "That explains a few things." She dumps them next to the fire. "You can throw it on yourself if you particularly hate the dress."

"I don't have any strong feelings about it," I admit.

She helps me with the new dress. The fabric is heavier than the dress Bastian bought me, and I can feel that it's going to move differently. Without thinking, my thoughts stray to dancing. What would it be like in this dress?

I clear my throat and try to focus on the dozens of questions I have spinning around my head. "Is everyone here vampires?" I ask.

"More or less. Some of the servants are dhampirs who arrived here at eighteen and are waiting for the Golden Moon. Though I suppose that isn't true tonight."

"And the townspeople?" I don't think I want to know the answer to my question.

"Some of them might be dhampirs," Eliza responds. "But in all honesty, I don't know. I've only been to one Golden Moon ball before."

"So you're...twenty-three?"

"Try a hundred and twenty-three," she responds. "I've just avoided going to them ever since, I didn't have much of an investment in any of them. But Uncle Gerard wants us to put on a united front when he introduces his new heir to the court, so I'm here."

"And everyone just does what Lord Fallmartin says to?"

"Of course. He's the head of our House. He can banish us if he wants to. Or worse, get one of the vampire royals to put us out in the sun for insubordination. Don't cross him, Beatrice. If you want to survive here, keep your head down and do what they tell you to." She helps with the ties of my dress.

Even without looking in the mirror, I can tell this one fits better, which is strange when it can't have been made by anyone who knows me.

"All right. Now for your hair," she says.

"The combs belonged to my mother." I touch them as if to reassure myself that they're still in place.

"Then I'll see what I can do with them," she promises, indicating that I should sit in front of the dressing table.

The mirror captures my reflection perfectly and I'm half surprised to find I look the same as I always have done.

Though I suppose that's logical. If I've always been a dhampir, then why would I look any different now I know about it?

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