Page 24 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
“Silver,” he says. “Tinged with a subtle, ethereal and pale blue. Does this hue run consistent within your bloodline?”
“On Lord Blakeley’s side. The viscount’s family line is pure blue. I wasn’t sure how I’d turn out.”
Aries slides his hands down to clasp my palms. I open my hands, welcoming the gesture. When we’re joined, he squeezes. “You’re perfect,” he says. “Silver suits you. Sharp and resilient.”
I don’t think I’m resilient in any way, shape or form, but his hands are warm around mine. I look down at them fastened together because I want to record everything about this moment and how light I feel. Blissful. “Thank you,” I tell him again, because I don’t know what else to say.
“Master Blakeley?”
Camille’s voice echoes through the trees. I tense, panicking, but Aries holds my hands more firmly, grounding me.
“Oliver,” he says, unruffled and commanding my attention. “Close your eyes and take deep breaths. Concentrate on stifling the warmth inside. Cooling it. Imagine something cold and calming falling over you—snowflakes drifting over your head and snuffing it out. Can you do that for me?”
I nod and close my eyes, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out. I do this a couple of times, imagining large soft snowflakes falling all around us. Gently, Aries lets go of my hands. His long fingertips slide against the undersides of my palms.
The heat and intensity of my stifled energy fades, evenly dispersing itself throughout my body. I’m so focused on the task and the surprisingly soothing sensation of it that Camille’s voice startles me.
“Your grace?”
I jump as my eyes spring open. Thankfully, the burn is gone. “Y-yes? What is it?”
“What on earth are you doing? You’re late for dinner.” She turns, looking around. “Are you alone out here?”
Flickering my eyes to the left and right, Aries is gone. I feel him fairly close, but he’s nowhere in sight. I run my fingers through the top of my hair. “I was just out by the fields. Since I had some free time.”
Camille regards me for a moment. Almost suspiciously. I’m about to ask her if something is wrong, but she nods and turns. “Please be careful out here at night, your grace. The viscount is waiting for you. We should hurry.”
I follow her without argument. I’m walking, but it feels like I’m floating. Images of Aries swirl and dance in my mind. His distinguished demeanor and handsome features backdropped against the moonlit shadows of the woods. Our hands clasped in the warmth and power of his grip.
I’m walking, but my heart is vibrant and alive. I want to hold on to this feeling forever.
“Non ha mai visitato l’Italia? È davvero un peccato! Lei parla italiano così bene.”
You’ve never been to Italy? That’s a shame, because you speak Italian so well.
“Grazie per i complimenti, signora,” I say, smiling. “Spero davvero di poter visitare l’Italia un giorno… Mi piacerebbe viaggiare in tanti posti diversi nel mondo.”
The next morning, I start my day by having breakfast with the viscount and the purebred dignitary from Italy. She’s an old friend of his, and it’s largely a softball conversation with the two of them reminiscing. I’m able to practice my language skills, which is really nice. But I’m not sure why the viscount wanted me here? I’m definitely not angry about it, and it isn’t the worst part of my day by any means.
Because that comes later.
Following breakfast, I travel beyond the castle walls to have tea with Her Ladyship of Wiltshire—my aunt. This meeting largely consists of me listening to my aunt complain about Lord Blakeley (her brother) and how she should receive a generous portion of Alexander’s dowry after the wedding because she’sfamily, after all.
She also complains about the decreasing number of purebred couplings across the world and how our race is being “bastardized.” When I try to correct her harmful rhetoric, she brushes me off and says that I’m, quote, “much too young to truly understand,” and how “it wasn’t like this in the old days.”
I give up as Lady Wiltshire goes on. Next, she spends an uncomfortable amount of time gossiping about some purebred named Leoni who’s been exiled from a prominent family in eastern Eden. Banishments are a big deal, but not uncommon. Especially in the modern era, which is what my aunt seems to take issue with.
“We’re too soft on this younger generation,” she complains, lifting her tea and plate from the table, which is covered with an elaborate spread of sandwiches, cakes and fruit. Neither of us needs this much food.
“These shameful circumstances will repeat themselves until the day we reinstate corporal punishments and extensive prison sentences,” she continues. “Only then will this defiant behavior cease. Vampires inmyday held fast to their responsibilities, because we understood the consequences of our actions. Vampires your age don’t even care. They misbehave and are practically rewarded!”
“What did Leoni do to be banished?” I ask.
She huffs in distaste, then takes a sip of her tea before answering. “I don’t know. The eastern families are being irksomely tight-lipped about it.”
“So… you don’t know what happened, exactly, but you’re certain she’s in the wrong?”
“Absolutely. It’s always the same. You young purebreds today have no sense of pride. No honor or loyalty to your ancestors. The contract with the Resinworth Clan of the west has been dissolved because of her. It’s a disaster.”
