Page 75 of Ruthless Ends

Feddei drifts forward a step but stops himself as Anya’s eyes cut to him, that smile still in place. She just looks…tense. I peek at Feddei sideways, and his lips are folded tightly together, his brow pinched in a cross between anger and concern.

“Seems the two of you might have more in common than you thought,” mutters V.

I frown, and she nods toward Anya’s father, who is currently glaring daggers at his daughter’s back. She didn’t come over here for a friendly chat. She was trying to get away from him.

Cam, either oblivious to the tension or not caring, says, “How generous of you to slum it with your lowly subjects over here, Your Highness.”

Anya’s eyes flash to his. “I’m surprised they even let you in the door. Shouldn’t you be outside howling on all fours?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get to that later. Care to join me?”

I tune out whatever she says next, my gaze drifting back to Reid. He’s been passed from King Vasiliev to Queen Suksai, and he’s listening intently while she talks with her hands.

The door at the back of the throne room creaks open as more guests enter, and flashes of red and pink grab my attention.

Finally.

I unconsciously take a step toward my friends but freeze as I take in their grim expressions. Kirby has one hand on Monroe’s back, the other on her elbow, and she leads her toward a human servant with regular champagne. Monroe’s head is down, her hair obscuring her face, but her posture is all wrong. Shoulders slumped, chin dipped.

They each grab a drink, then retreat to the outskirts of the room, blending in with the other black uniforms of the Marionettes. Kirby’s partner is already spinning around on the dance floor with a woman I don’t recognize, and Nathan, apparently bored with the woman in pink, is now sauntering around the room and laughing with a few of his royal friends.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, though Cam and Anya seem too engrossed in their verbal sparring match to notice.

Kirby sees me coming first, and her smile is lightless. “Hi, Val,” she sighs. “I’m sorry about—”

“Don’t worry about it.” I wave her off. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing new,” Monroe bites out. I follow her gaze to Nathan on the other side of the room. Two friends lean over each of his shoulders, gathering around as he shows something on his phone, all of them shaking with laughter.

“Rumors spread fast,” Kirby says. “I don’t know how many people have seen the videos—”

“But everyone knows they exist,” I say.

She gives a stiff nod.

The music cuts off, and an eerie hush falls over the room as King Auclair steps onto the dais.

“Thank you all for coming to celebrate the coronation of the newest Carrington monarch, Reginald Evander Carrington.” A few of the other monarchs usher Reid onto the stage as he says it, and he ducks his head at the polite applause that fills the room.

“Although we have important matters to attend to, I thought we all could use a dose of normalcy,” continues Auclair. “This whole ordeal has been so uncivilized.” He saysuncivilizedwith a pointed lift of his chin, as if genuinely offended by it all.

I like Auclair. As far as the monarchs go, he’s one of the better ones. He’s a fair leader, he cares about his people, and for a royal vampire, he’s always seemed one of the most open-minded. Not to mention he’s taken us all in when he easily could have turned the Carrington refugees away, me especially. Many of the other estates wouldn’t have extended the same generosity, and most wouldn’t look down at him if he left us all out to die.

So sometimes it’s easy to forget who he is—what he is. A vampire who’s walked this earth far longer than he should have. One who views the deaths of thousands to be unfortunate, but more inconvenient than anything as it interferes with the extravagance and refinery he’s accustomed to. One who’s had a hand in every law running this corrupt system, has allowed every injustice, maybe even come up with some of the ideas himself.

This uprising isn’t a serious threat to him, just an aggravated nuisance that’s cutting into his social calendar and upsetting his routine.

“But please, please, before we get into the ceremony and the feast tonight, let us propose a cheers to our Marionettes who have worked so hard to keep us all safe during these trying times.”

“Hear, hear!” calls a faceless voice, and I have to physically pinch myself to hold back from rolling my eyes. If the other Marionettes hear how empty his words sound, they don’t show it.

Reid raises his head and meets my eyes across the room for what feels like the first time tonight. The tension in his expression eases as a single corner of his mouth lifts. The bond shivers between us like fingers gently plucking the strings of a violin.

Hear, hear.

* * *

The ceremonyitself doesn’t take long, nor does the pledging of fealty from the first region residents. Reid’s discomfort through the whole thing is palpable through the bond, but you’d never be able to tell from looking at him.

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