Page 50 of The Pureblood Princess
There’s no one else seated at the table or even present in the dining room—it’s just her, the boy, and the Kazamir matriarch.
Moving stiffly, Nadia pulls out her own chair, for there is no footman to do so for her, and takes a seat. Closer to the boy now,she can see the scars running up and down the length of his neck and disappearing into the collar of his shirt. The wounds on his neck well with fresh blood, and as soon as it starts to slip down his skin, Dorota leans forward and swipes it up with her tongue.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Sister Kazamir says. She picks up her serviette and dabs her lips, then reaches for the wineglass sitting beside her half-empty plate of potatoes and greens drowned in gravy. “Surely you know by now what ajumatate sângeis.” Sister Kazamir lifts the dark red wine to her lips, and Nadia swallows hard and tears her eyes away.
Something feels sowrongabout this, and Nadia’s desire for blood wars with her principles. Drinking from Amélie is one thing, but drinking from a boy so young as this one is something entirely different. Even as she thinks it, however, the smell of his fresh blood drifts through the air, and she curls her fingers into fists beneath the table.
“Why have you brought me here?” she asks, still keeping her gaze trained on the empty plate before her. Despite summoning her to dinner, it seems they never intended to serve her at all, for no one arrives to load her plate with food or even to pour a glass of wine. Nadia’s stomach pinches with hunger, and she wills it not to grumble aloud.
“To speak, dear girl. I hear you’ve refused our offer.” Sister Kazamir swirls the wine in her glass, and the dark liquid drips down the sides like blood. “You will explain yourself. From where I sit, it’s averygenerous offer.”
“I love Viscount Rosetti,” Nadia says, and the words bring her some small spark of power. “I’mmarryingViscount Rosetti.”
Sister Kazamir clucks her tongue. “That’s where you’re wrong. You won’t be marrying Lord Rosetti because he’s already promised to my granddaughter. I’m sure you can understand how upset my girl would be if you took him away from her.” Sister Kazamir’s gaze shifts to the boy, and her tongue darts outto wet her lips. “Marek is the best option you’re going to get, and he’s a highly desirable option, especially for a cipher like you.”
Nadia digs her nails into her palms in an effort to distract herself from the smell of blood in the air and the images from those horrible nightmares. “He won’t marry her,” she says, trying not to picture Honora’s naked body pressed against Theodore’s. “He loves me.”
“He already agreed to it, Miss Magdalena.”
It’s like a burst of lightning goes through Nadia, and she sits up straighter.
“No, he’d never agree to that. You’re lying.”
Sister Kazamir smiles and tips her head to the side languidly. “Are you sure? Tell me, what does your dear viscount have to say about all this?”
He’s had nothing to say. Since her abduction, Theodore hasn’t spoken a word to her, hasn’t been in her head even once. But Sister Kazamir shouldn’t know that.
“You’re speaking in circles,” Nadia says, trying to keep her voice calm. “How am I to speak with him while imprisoned?”
This comment makes the smile slip from Sister Kazamir’s lips.
“Do you think me an imbecile, Miss Magdalena? You and your betrothed aren’t near so subtle as you think. I know full well your bond allows you to communicate without saying a word.”
She’s known all along.
Nadia had thought their ability to be a secret, had hoped she could use it to escape this place. The realization makes her heart sink.
Sister Kazamir sits back in her chair and casts her gaze to the boy. “You’ve yet to answer my question. I take that to mean I’m correct: the viscount has not reached out to you. A pity, certainly. But it’s for the best. Now you can marry my grandson, and Lord Rosetti will follow through on his word.”
“I won’t do it. I’m betrothed to Viscount Rosetti, and I shan’t marry Lord Kazamir.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Sister Kazamir says, but she certainly doesn’tsoundsorry.
She runs one hand down the boy’s neck, and he doesn’t so much as twitch. His eyes are still glossy, unfocused. Nadia has never seen such a reaction to the venom; most come out of the daze within minutes, if not moments, of the feeding. How much venom is in his bloodstream?
“You leave us with only one option, then.”
“And what is that?”
Sister Kazamir wraps her hand around the boy’s neck and draws him close. Her fangs flash in the candlelight, and then she sinks them into his neck. Despite his stupor, he flinches, but the pain evident on his face soon gives way to complacency, and he melts more fully into Sister Kazamir’s hold.
Though Nadia wants to, she can’t look away. The boy’s blood smells of youth, of vitality, and the scent hangs heavy in the room now, causing Nadia’s fangs to push from her gums despite her disgust.
Sister Kazamir drinks deeply, and the boy’s eyelids start to flutter.
“Y-you’re drinking too much,” Nadia says, her thirst momentarily making way for concern.
The boy’s eyes close, and his body sways.
