Page 12 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
Delicately, Aries wraps the tape against my hips again, barely touching my body. His voice is low. “Your bonding ceremony is next month.”
“Yes.”
He whips the tape from around me, then writes in his notebook. “You must be excited?”
“No.”
My eyes widen, and he looks up, blinking. But like before, the moment is brief, and his poker face is back on before I can register his reaction.
“Would you turn, please? I need to do your shoulders and back.”
I do as he’s asked, still beside myself from my sudden and unwarranted transparency. What the hell am I thinking? It would be so easy for him to take that answer to the newspapers, and Lord Blakeley would have a literal meltdown from the fallout:Youngest Blakeley Prince is Decidedly Not Excited for Upcoming Nuptials to Central Eden’s Vampire Prince Heartthrob. A Tailor Tells All Exclusive.
Somehow, though, I know he won’t do that.
Aries is swift and silent as he finishes my measurements, trailing the tape down my spine, the length of my arms and legs, around my waist and up the curve of my crotch. I stiffen like before, but he doesn’t stop this time, and it very much feels as if he’s trying to hurry up and get this over with.
When he’s finished, he goes over to the bench to retrieve my belt and sweater. “We should be all set,” he says, walking back and handing me my things. “If I need anything specific, I’ll send a servant to do my bidding.”
Panicked, I shake my head. “I can come here if you need me to. I don’t mind, and it’s what Lord Blakeley wanted. I’m sorry if I’ve been awkward. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” I pull my sweater over my head. He probably thinks I’m some young and ridiculous creature. Maybe I am.
With my sweater on, I sigh and drop my shoulders. Aries watches me with hooded lids and I marvel at his long dark eyelashes. His rare gemstone irises. “If you don’t mind my saying, you seem to apologize quite a bit for an Eden purebred of ancient blood.”
This makes me chuckle. “Given time, you’ll find that I am averypoor excuse for an Eden purebred.”
“I doubt that.” He takes a step back, then offers a shallow bow. “Thank you, your grace. We’re all finished for now.”
Threading my belt, I step down from the platform. “Will you… be attending the banquet tonight?”
“It’s difficult for me to resist the extravagance of a royal banquet, but I’m not sure. I have a lot of work to do.”
I nod, considering as I finish securing the buckle. “Yes, of course… but I-I do hope that you can make it.”
Aries blinks. His expression is suddenly unreadable. “Is this a formal command, your grace? As my superior?”
I draw back, mortified. “No.No, not at all! I don’t—I would never. I just—” There’s a knock at the door, and as Camille enters, I realize my face is hot from embarrassment. Flustered, I look back at Aries and speak in a rushed whisper.
“Please forget I said that. I’m sorry.” I don’t wait for a response, because I’ve made a fool out of myself two days in a row now. It’s enough.
“Your grace?” Camille calls after me as I pass her in the doorway. I know where the breakfast room is. I don’t need an escort.
ChapterFive
Later in the evening, Alexander is at my side as we walk toward the great hall. Thankfully, he isn’t berating me over the ritual that we had last night.
“The council won’t watch us mate again until the night of our formal ceremony.” Alexander is dressed to the nines with his sunshine-blonde hair swept back. His chin is naturally lifted—like a vampire that’s never once been challenged or rebuked. As if the angels in heaven started singing on the day he was born and they haven’t stopped since.
He’s also taller than me, but not towering like Aries. The deficit between Alexander and me is probably just a few inches, but it’s obvious that he takes great pride in this.
“I assured everyone that we were nervous,” he goes on. “We’ve barely been able to spend time alone together, so we need the next four weeks to get better acquainted. They seemed to understand, so I think we’re in the clear for now.”
I’m extremely relieved to hear this, honestly. At the very least, I won’t be subjected to that specific brand of torture and humiliation again for another month. Maybe by then I can figure out how to fake it better so it can be the last time?
This… is my life, whether I want it or not. I should start figuring out how to adapt, like Sasha says.
It feels all wrong, though. On some visceral level.
“That’s good.” I breathe, relaxing just a little. “I’m happy to hear that.”
