Page 46 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
Not a wild party. Not even a date.
“Hm.” Alexander’s uncle smirks with his spoon hovering over his crème brulée. “Is this school where he learned to make radical, public statements about the way our aristocracy is run? Did they teach him how to post photographic condemnations online?”
Lord Blakeley waves a hand as if he’s the epitome of contentment and indifference. This derisive remark is nothing. “It’s in the past. Oliver has learned from his mistake and has turned all of his attention to making this union a success.”
Alexander’s uncle scowls at me from across the table, as if he’s won some psychological battle. “It is a good thing,” he says. “Those photos were such waste of time and energy. Ridiculous.”
“You’re wrong,” I blurt. The room stills. Everyone pauses to watch me, but I don’t care because I’m fuming—at Lord Blakeley, and at this needle-nosed purebred talking as if I’m not sitting here. And ateveryone, constantly making decisions on my behalf and pushing me around.
“I’ve heard that my photos have ended up in newspapers across Europe and North America,” I defend, keeping my tone calm and even. “My photographs helped to convey an important point about the disparities in our communities. They have merit.”
For the past two and a half weeks, I’ve been smiling and nodding, laughing at stupid jokes and being polite because that’s what’s expected of me. I’ve been respectful and have played my part nicely, but this is too far. Don’t I deserve some inkling of respect in return? Am I the only one that’s expected to behave with civility?
The table is silent with everyone looking between Lord Blakeley, Alexander’s uncle and me. I don’t care, though. I take a bite of my dessert.
“How exactly have you heard this? Considering your current Internet restrictions.” Lord Blakeley’s voice is accusatory and loaded. Now, everyone’s eyes are strictly on me. Oh, shit… how do I explain—
“I told him about it, your grace.”
My head whips toward Alexander at my side. His eyes meet mine in a quick glance before he goes on. “I… just thought he should know what the result of his actions were.”
“That’s very kind of you, Alexander,” his uncle says, lifting his chin. “Butsomeoneneeds a lesson in respectfully addressing their elders. It is truly unfortunate. These very, very unpleasant manners won’t be welcomed in Central Eden. Is this the norm for vampires raised in the southern realm?”
“It most certainly is not.” Lord Blakeley wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Oliver, we no longer require your presence this evening. Apologize to the Duke of Ealing before taking your leave. Now.”
Being dismissed is perfectly fine, because it means I can get the hell out of here. Standing, I offer a shallow bow. “My apologies.” As I turn to walk away, Lord Blakeley calls out.
“Leave your phone.” I look back and he taps the table with his fingers.
Everyone stares tensely. Unspeaking.
Sighing, I pull the phone from the pocket of my blazer, then walk over to place it beside him.
“You and I will talk later,” he says.
Humiliating.
My face is hot the entire walk back to my wing of the castle. Even after I’ve entered my room and locked the door behind me, I’m still fuming.
Why am I constantly being disregarded? As if nothing I say or think has value. I’m like an alien in a strange place, even though this is allegedly my “home.” These vampires are supposed to be my family—the creatures who care most about me. But they don’t care, do they? I’m insignificant to them… No. To my family, I’m just a docile puppet for their exploitation. Nothing more.
After I shower, I put on a robe and dump myself across the bed to just lie there, feeling lifeless. Camille has been in here, because my bed is turned down, and the oil lamp on my bedside table is lit, casting a soft glow in the otherwise dark room.
I flip onto my back, staring blankly at the high-beamed ceiling and feeling miserable.
But then I close my eyes and intentionally breathe in deeply. Searching. I can smell Aries close by and the sensation is like being thrown a life raft. Like a ray of sunshine and warmth caressing my skin on a cold, cloudy afternoon.
What I wouldn’t give to be submersed in his presence. Something about him is so comforting in a way that I’ve never known. That I didn’t know I needed until the day I saw him.
A light tapping on my door makes me jolt upright.
It’s Aries.
Mechanically, I scoot to the edge of the bed, then walk over to the door. I open it and Aries is standing there—tall, handsome and casually dressed in light-colored chinos and a beautiful black sweater.
“Hey,” I say quietly, looking him over.
“Hello, Camille said you’d be out until late this evening and with your family?”
