Page 42 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

My first thought wasBane, and even more surprisingly, the first thing I felt upon thinking of him was relief.

And then I realized this was a stranger. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in black, and perhaps that was why I had thought of my husband first, enormous and shrouded in dark colors.

But this was a human. I stared up at him, still frozen by the surprise of finding a stranger outside my door, noting in an absent way that he was handsome, with the green eyes of a Veladari and the dark hair and tanned skin of a Forian.

The stranger looked me up and down in a way that made me bristle, like a man examining a horse for sale. “So you’re Lady Cirrien? They said you were a beauty, but it appears the rumors understated things.”

He grinned, showing white, blunt human teeth. Behind me, Ellena sighed.

Yes, I’m Cirri, I signed, irritated by his frank and lingering assessment of everything below my neck.And right now I’m more interested in breakfast than flattery, so thanks, but no thanks.

His smile began to look a little pasted-on as he watched my hands move. Ah, well.

Ellena sidled around me, peering up at this stranger from under her lashes. “She’s a mute, my Lord. We were just heading to breakfast, if you’d like to join us…?”

He laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m no lord, no sort of nobility at all. Miro Kyril, at your service. Your husband’s apparently grown tired of my indolence and I’m to put my artistic talents to use. That is, to paint your portrait.”

I gazed at him in confusion. Paint my portrait? What could anyone want with such a thing? With constant fortifications going on, weren’t there more important tasks?

“You’re the Lady of the Rift,” he said, reading my bemusement accurately. “All the lords and ladies are painted for the historical record.”

Oh, yes. Lady of the Rift. A title that felt like it belonged in a dream, or to someone else… but certainly not to me.

If you say so. But breakfast still comes first, and if Wyn has more important tasks for me, your painting will have to wait. I signed a little more exuberantly than I normally would have, but really, I wanted him to move out of the way. He loomed in the doorway, leaning on the jamb as though he expected me to invite him in.

He either took the hint, or he didn’t want to be inadvertently slapped in the face, because he did finally shift aside, leaving enough room for me to slip through the door, past the vampire guards stationed outside. I recognized Koryek, nodding to himand feeling vaguely apologetic for not listening to a word he’d said when he walked me back to my tower last night.

I had no idea where the kitchens were, or if we were expected to eat elsewhere—did nobility eat at tables together? In the Cathedral, most of the maids ate at a communal table in the kitchen, but the Sisters had their own dining room. I found myself hoping I could just find a nice, warm corner of the kitchen—that would be one familiar thing I was used to.

Something brushed my sleeve, and I realized Miro had caught up to me. He walked close, enough that our arms touched with every other step. I surreptitiously veered away.

“This way,” he said, tipping his head down a hall I was about to walk past. “Your husband isn’t much for formality. Almost everyone eats in the kitchen, except the soldiers—their food is brought out to the barracks, so they don’t have to leave the wall.”

I nodded, relieved that I wouldn’t be expected to sit alone at a long, formal dining table.

“So you’re a lai Darran, then? Where are those estates located?” Miro asked cheerfully, guiding us down another corridor, where the carpet underfoot gave way to cold stone and the sconces were more utilitarian than decorative. “Probably near Argent, since that’s where they found you, right?”

I shrugged. Once, in my younger years, I’d looked up the lai Darrans. In those days, I’d still been struggling with the sense of loss, that I had an entire family out there that no longer cared if I lived or died.

They did own quite a large piece of land south of Argent, and the family tree dated well back past the Red Epoch, but I’d quickly realized it didn’t matter how much I knew about them—name aside, I would never be one of them.

And as for Miro’s questions, I couldn’t answer in any way he would understand at the moment, anyway. Fortunately for me,my new artist was happy to fill the void of my answers with more talk, ensuring that my brief silences went unnoticed.

“Most of the humans live back here. We aren’t granted quarters in the towers. You’d think, since we’re sacrificingourlives to defend the Rift, that we’d at least warrant rooms in the Tower of Summer, but Bane keeps that reserved for the nobility. Obviously the Tower of Winter is off-limits—it belongs to him—and the Tower of Spring is yours, my lady.”

What’s in the Tower of Autumn, then?I asked, but he was already off on another tangent.

“I should’ve had the Tower of Summer. My mother was nobility, and highly respected as an artist, but…” He smiled ruefully. “I had a Forian father, as you can see. The half-breeds never rise so high as the vampires.”

This time I kept my hands still. I understood bitterness, the gnawing feeling that one had been born destined for more and denied that right without reason; but as I’d learned from my long years in the Cathedral, it was pointless to gripe about what wasn’t, and far easier in some ways to strive for a new path.

Miro struck me as quite young in some ways, despite appearing of an age with myself. Or maybe my judgment was too harsh.

I, too, was new to vampire rule and custom. Perhaps Bane did place his own kind above the Rift-kin who had lived here for centuries before him; after all, despite his kindness, I knew my husband very little.

The heat of the kitchens struck me before we saw them; they were large, clean rooms in the back of the keep, kettles hung over the roaring fireplaces, with a long wood table, glowing with years of polish, set in the middle. Several of the human staff were already eating at a rapid pace. I recognized one of the maids from my wedding preparation, Yuli, whispering and giggling with another girl as they ate.

The head cook was human as well, a hard-faced woman whose gaze went over our shoulders, and I turned to find that Koryek and my other vampire guard had followed us in.

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