Page 14 of The Vampire's Bride

I’m glad when she doesn’t ask any more questions about it. I really don’t want to have to explain my passion, only to have someone else chastise me for “wasting my time.”

She sets the box down on the table and then eyes my dress. “Lord Valaric asked me to take your dresses into town next time we go for supplies to have the clothier sew the Greyvale House Sigil into your clothing. Don’t you worry,” she adds. “I’ll ask them to make it prominent to signify you aren’tbloodsworn.”

“Bloodsworn?”

“A kinder term used for those who are indebted to a Vampire—bound to serve,” she explains. “Likeblood wives,blood servants, and such.”

Ah. I’m familiar with those terms. Although Valaric said I am more than a blood wife, I still wince inwardly at the mention of the word.

She grins. “Lord Greyvale has taken you as his true wife. A prominent sigil on your clothing will help make you status clear to everyone who sees you.”

Back home, only those among the upper nobility had a House Sigil. Unless things are drastically different in vampiric society, Valaric must be of high standing indeed to possess one.

“What is his House Sigil?”

“YourHouse Sigil, Lady Greyvale,” Elsie says pointedly, reminding me that it is now mine as well, “is a black rose against a silver moon.”

“Are there any other members of House Greyvale?”

“It is only him and Lord Damar.”

I’m about to ask who Lord Damar is, but as I glance around the room, only now do I realize that I have no idea where I am, aside from the fact that this is Valaric’s home. “Where exactly is this castle located?”

“We’re in the Obsidian Mountains of Morrowynd. The town of Corvania is a little over an hour’s ride down the road from Greyvale Castle, at the base of the mountain.”

“Corvania?”I ask incredulously. “But that’s at least a week’s journey from my parents’ home. I thought you said I only slept for three days.”

“Aye, you did, but Lord Valaric used a portal for travel.”

My jaw goes slack. “I thought those were myths.”

“I used to believe that too.” She grins. “Apparently, Incubi are able to conjure such things and Lord Valaric has one that is indebted to him. He asked him to prepare the portal as soon as the blood witch sent word of you.”

While it’s rather exciting to learn that portals are real, my stomach knots as I consider the rest of her statement. “My husband has those who are”—I pause, trying to recall the correct term before finally remembering—“bloodswornto him?”

“You misunderstand,” Elsie says. “Aerlyx—the Incubus I speak of—is not bloodsworn. He considers himselfindebtedto Lord Greyvale for some reason or other.” A thoughtful look crosses her face. “You know, I’m not quite sure I’ve ever heard the story on that one, now that I think of it.”

My concern dissipates immediately, but I still have so many questions. “Do all Vampires use portals?”

She shakes her head. “Most use theDark Gates. They’re like portals, but at fixed locations.. They were created by the—” Her explanation is cut short by the high-pitched wail of a child, echoing down the hallway.

Elsie turns to me with an apologetic look. “I’d best go check on my granddaughter. My daughter has her hands full with little Kaely. She’s four years old, you see. That’s the age where the fangs start coming in for our kind, and it can be quite painful. I’ll be sure to introduce you to them later, when Kaely’s in better spirits. Will you be all right if I leave you for a bit?”

“Of course.”

She heads for the door, glancing over her shoulder as she steps out into the hallway. “While I’m gone, you might want to explore the gardens. They’re lovely. Even this time of year. There’s access from your balcony, but don’t forget your cloak. It’s still a bit cold out there.”

I think she’s gone, but then she pokes her head in the door again. “Oh, and one more thing. If you decide to explore the castle, be sure to avoid the west wing.”

“Why?”

“That part of the castle is in a state of disrepair. The floors are a bit unstable and such.” She flashes another smile. “I’ll come back for you as soon as I can.”

When I step outside, the crisp scent of winter fills my nostrils. A cool breeze whispers across my skin as snow flurries catch in my hair and cloak. Moonlight spreads across the snow-covered grounds below, dipping the landscape in silver.

A fine layer of powdery snow covers every surface of the balcony. Carefully, I pick my way down the narrow, curving set of stairs until I reach the gardens below. My muscles still feel a bit weak, but I don’t want to go back to my room. Not yet. I’d much rather explore.

The grounds are a maze of meandering paths and frozen streams. They are lined with pine trees, their branches laden with snow, and tall unruly bushes, covered in vibrant and glowing red roses as big as my fist. Vines cascade over the courtyard walls, their tiny white flowers twinkling like captured starlight.

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