Page 141 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

Until the chains wrapped around my wrists.

I forced my head up to see that distant ballroom light, now little more than smears of gold in my failing vision. I tried to crawl to it.

But by then my body had failed me.

In another distant world, the clock rang out in ominous solitude, a thunderousGONGechoing through the bloody night.

I didn’t hear it chime again.

40

ORAYA

The music had gotten louder, more chaotic. I couldn’t hear myself think over it. The alcohol had flowed freely. The blood, too. The blood vendors had arrived, a dozen humans who had clearly been chosen for their appearance just as much as their blood. All were dressed in finery no human in Obitraes could possibly afford—dressed by Cairis, I was sure. Some were obviously professionals—I even recognized a few from Vincent’s parties. Others seemed new. One sat on the lap of the Shadowborn prince, her cheeks and chest flushed, eyelashes fluttering as he nipped at her throat, his hand wandering up between her legs. Her bodyguard—one of Ketura’s—stood beside them, clearly struggling to fulfill her job of watching over the human without making awkward eye contact.

That was the difference between this party and Vincent’s: every one of the blood vendors had a bodyguard. I recognized these ones. They were among Raihn’s best. And this was what they had been chosen for tonight. Not guarding Raihn. Not serving the Shadowborn guests. They were watching over these humans—humans that, under my father’s rule, would have been considered disposable.

It was Raihn’s order. He’d probably gotten pushback over it. Vampire nobles didn’t like to feel like they were being chaperoned while they nibbled on beautiful humans.

I took a sip of wine that I immediately regretted. I subtly spat it back into the cup. Vampire wine was strong. I had the nagging sensation that I had to keep my awareness intact.

My mind, involuntarily, wandered back to Raihn, and that little stumble, and that flicker of confusion.

I glanced around the room and didn’t see him anywhere. I didn’t see Mische, either, even though her dress would’ve made her stand out. Vale and Lilith were still at their table, not partaking in the dancing, Lilith looking curious and Vale looking like he was very ready to go to bed.

Everyone else was engaged in… debauchery.

I found myself fidgeting. I let my hand fall to my side, brushing the hilt of my blade strapped around my thigh, just to check that it was still there.

“Quite a party, isn’t it?”

I glanced up. Ugh.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not smoking,” I said.

Septimus smiled. It was the same smile he had given me the first night I met him—the kind designed to loosen lips and undergarments.

“Afraid I’ve run out,” he said. “I’d offer you one.”

“I don’t like to have too many anyway. Addiction is for the weak.”

He took a sip of his wine. “Oh, how she wounds.”

He had a smear of red at the corner of his mouth. Apparently, he’d been having plenty of fun with the blood vendors tonight.

My gaze fell across the ballroom, where a set of open arched doors led into the castle. Simon’s wife was heavily occupied with one of the young male blood vendors, while Simon approached her and whispered something in her ear. She turned back to him and laughed, offering him the human’s wrist.

Mother, I fucking hated them. Meeting them once was more than enough. They seemed far too happy.

Perplexingly happy, actually, for two nobles who’d just had to bow to a former slave.

“I have to admit,” Septimus said, “though I knew you had many talents, I never thought you were much of an actress.”

I said nothing, still watching Simon across the room, brow furrowed. An uneasy sensation tingled at the back of my neck.

Something just seemed…

“Actress?” I said to Septimus, half-listening.

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