Page 9 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
Alone, just me and my camera.
ChapterFour
When I open my eyes the next morning, I find that I did not die from embarrassment.
Shame. I definitely wish that I had.
I haven’t died, but I immediately recall being scolded by Alexander for my blatant lack of enthusiasm during our performance. Also, the name “cold fish” has been added to the ever-growing list of his descriptors for me.
Last night was paralyzing. From the moment we walked into the veiled bedroom filled with burning tapered candles, my blood froze in my veins and I could barely move or think. Our fathers and his mother were seated in the perimeter like formless shadows, along with other high-ranking elders from the Royal Order—a ghastly room specifically made for this bizarre, ancient and voyeuristic activity. I couldn’t see their faces behind the gauzy curtains, but I could feel them there. All of them. Silent and concentrating on us.
We had to undress and situate ourselves atop the huge four-poster bed. Then Alexander was justonme. Kissing and stroking his hands across every inch of my skin. It felt like he’d morphed into an octopus at some point because I couldn’t keep track of anything, and all I wanted was for it to be over as quickly as possible.
Yesterday was the most uncomfortable and horrific experience of my life. I think, maybe I’m not made for this world? The one I currently reside in. There must have been some mistake along the way, where I was born and dumped into the wrong family. Or maybe I’m the wrong rank? Maybe I should have been born as a first- or second-generation vampire—with remnants of human DNA in my bloodline and therefore less responsibility to the aristocracy at large.
These things that are expected of me as a purebred… things that are considered natural to my “flawless, vampiric station” but feel painfully unnatural. I don’t know how to cope, and I don’t know who to talk to about it.
Usually, I would try talking to Sasha, because she’s the only vampire in my life that kind of accepts me. But she scolded me the last time I tried, didn’t she?
Lord Blakeley is out of the question, and the viscount is never alone. I can’t ever talk to him about anything without an audience of servants surrounding us. It’s as if he’s always under surveillance, too.
Poor Thomas is like the walking dead ever since the incident. Beyond basic greetings, we haven’t spoken since I was a teenager.
“Lord Blakeley and the viscount are expecting you for breakfast, but first, you’re scheduled to meet with the designer for your measurements.”
Camille, my maidservant and handler, briskly walks in and out of my closet. I like her a lot. She gives me space and doesn’t try to follow me every minute of every single day like my last handler did. Patrick—an ancient vamp who’d been serving our family for centuries. He retired when I turned sixteen. I don’t miss him.
Dragging my body upright, I rub my face as I sit in the bed, still in my pajamas. Camille tosses multiple combinations of slacks, sweaters and shirts onto the large ottoman at the end of my mattress.
“The banquet tonight starts at seven, so you have a little free time today,” she goes on, winking as she passes. “I’ll have a suit ready and laid out for you.”
I scratch the back of my head, eternally grateful. “Thank you so much, Camille.” Free time is perfect, because what I truly want is to hide all day. After last night’s gross humiliation, I need some time to myself. To be alone and in my own skin.
When I take a deep breath and stretch my arms up, I smell and sense something new. Someone?
I sit still, processing. New vampires come and go within our estate all the time. I always notice, but it never registers as anything particularly pleasant. It’s just background noise—like birds singing or the hum of a car passing.
This scent registers differently. It commands my attention.
“As soon as you’re dressed, I’ll take you downstairs to where they’ve set up the designer’s studio. His name is Aries Moralis.”
I tilt my head in confusion. “Why is his studio set up over here? Why not the main house?”
“The main house will be full between the dignitaries and families from Central Eden and the Italian representative. Plus, he’ll be working on your suit and Alexander’s, primarily, so it makes sense, proximity-wise.”
Sighing, I crawl to the edge of the bed and stand upright. It doesn’t matter.
“I’ll be waiting outside?” she goes on.
“Sure. Just give me a minute.”
“Great.” Camille turns, hesitates, then flips back. “Your grace… you didn’t need to give me flowers.”
“Lord Blakeley shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Posting those photographs was my decision. I’m very sorry that you got in trouble. I don’t mean to make things difficult for you.”
Grinning, she bows. “You’re too kind. The flowers were arranged beautifully. And—oh! Alexander has requested to escort you to dinner tonight.”
I freeze mid-step. “C-can I decline?” I do not want to see him until I absolutely have to.
