Page 34 of How to Dump a Vampire

Eodan gives me a knowing, commiserating look. “The past can be painful to exhume, but the future yet remains unshaped.”

I sit silently absorbing his wisdom as Eodan creakily rises, moving about the cluttered space to prepare hot tea over a small brazier. Perhaps he is right, andI should focus on forging a new path forward, not dwelling on the unchangeable past, but to do so, I must find Thorn again and try to make things right somehow. Our fates feel linked, whatever her true origins.

I rise to take my leave with a respectful bow. “You have been more helpful than I dared hope, Master. I thank you for your time and trust.”

Eodan smiles wanly, walking over to and holding open the warped wooden door. “My tower lies open should you require an ear again for your musings.” His eyes glint as I duck through.

I emerge back out into the drafty torch-lit corridor feeling somehow lighter despite the grim insights learned. With understanding comes power to choose change. I intend to help guide my kingdom toward a more just future, if Thorn will walk that road with me, but first, I have to find her and try to atone for old wounds.

Lost in thought, I descend the winding steps and emerge back into the main castle. My conversation with the mage must have taken longer than I realized. The castle corridors are empty now, most folk having retired for the evening except on nights when…

I halt mid-stride. The war council. They regularly hold strategy meetings late into the night. Of course I haven’t actually been cleared to resume my duties yet after my extended absence, but perhaps I can observe from the fringes for now.

Changing course, I stealthily make my way toward the council chambers. The guards at the heavy double doors straighten in surprise as I approach.

“Prince Draven. We did not realize you were here.” The captain eyes me uncertainly. “Are you certain you should be up and about so soon after your… ordeal?”

I give him my most reassuring smile. “I am quite recovered, thank you, and eager to resume my responsibilities.” Before they can object further, I slip between the imposing doors left slightly ajar.

Inside, the large round table is packed with advisors and military leaders. My best friend Anthony, my eldest brother Theron, and my father occupy the central seats. Their grave voices trail off as all eyes turn to me in shock at my unannounced entrance.

“Draven.” Father is the first to find his voice, bushy brows lowering. “What are you doing here?”

I lift my chin, injecting confidence into my words. “Presiding over the war council, of course. Rumors of my invalid state seem premature.”

Theron shoots Father a questioning look, but the king simply gestures for me to take my seat. “If you believe yourself fit for duty, we welcome your input.” His tone makes it clear this probationary return will be closely scrutinized.

I avoid meeting Theron’s skeptic gaze from across the table as I take my appointed chair.

The stern-faced council members eventually resume their reports, though many pause to glance at me curiously throughout. I try to focus but find my thoughts wandering after the discoveries in the archive.

How many around this table sanctioned that horrific purge under my father’s rule? Did they view it as a just and necessary strategy to protect the kingdom against a supernatural threat, or was it more about their pride and fear of losing their power and wealth? And now here I sit among them, bound by blood and duty to these men I no longer know if I can trust.

I’m relieved when the meeting concludes without me needing to contribute much.

The other council members file out, and I catch Theron’s arm, steeling myself to question him. As heir to the throne, he may know more details of that shameful history.

“A word, brother?” I ask evenly, despite the unease churning within me.

Theron pauses, eyeing me curiously. “Of course.” He waits as everyone else leaves until it’s just us two alone in the huge council room. He folds his arms, face impossible to read. “All right, what do you need?” he asks in that impatient way he has.

I bite my tongue to keep from firing something equally snippy back. I need to verify a few things from him, so I play nice.

“Just a few questions about some military history.” I force a smile. “Was hoping you could clear up some stuff I dug up in the records about when I was too young to notice.”

Theron lifts one thick black brow, looking anything but eager to indulge me. “So now I’m your own personal royal scholar?”

He goes to brush by, but I step to block his exit and catch his sleeve.

“Come on. Hear me out. I think leaving the past buried could spell trouble later.” I give him my most convincing pleading look. “There was this massacre of an entire family. Of a village hiding a seriously gifted kid.”

Theron instantly tenses up, face closing off. After a painful pause, he yanks his arm back roughly. “Raking up old garbage is pointless,” he snaps. “Find better things to occupy that nosiness of yours.”

His tone makes it crystal clear he knows more than he’s admitting. Now I’m really steaming.

“There’s no expiration date on making amends,” I shoot back. “Why all the secrecy if it was for a good reason?”

Theron’s eyes flash with anger, and his jaw gets all tight. “Drop it, Draven. Get back to your rest and recovery. Stay out of my way, and you’ll see why some things stay buried.”

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