Ilemina fixed her with a heavy gaze. “Lady Onda and Lady Seveline have invited you to the bride’s wassail.”
The wassail was a long-standing vampire tradition. Despite the grand name, it was basically a brunch, light on food, but heavy on drinks, which, for vampires, meant caffeine. An average vampire could drain a bottle of whiskey and remain perfectly sober, but Maud had seen them down an expresso and dissolve into a soggy mess of slurred words and draping arms, declaring their undying love and devotion to a stranger they met ten minutes ago.
The wassail involved a large punch bowl filled with a caffeinated beverage and each guest would be served from it, toasting the host. It was common before a wedding; in fact, the tradition prescribed having several wassails for both the bride and groom. Maud had attended a few of these before and every time proved to be a hilarious experience. Inevitably someone challenged her to a drink off, which ended with them under the table and her, completely sober, urgently looking for a bathroom.
Ilemina’s face held very little humor. It promised doom. Definitely doom.
“Is the invitation cause for alarm?” Maud asked.
“No female members of House Krahr received an invitation. It is a family wassail. You are the only outsider.”
She would be isolated and surrounded by knights of House Kozor. House Krahr was honor bound to respect their guests’ privacy. If something happened, there was no guarantee back-up would arrive in time or at all. To decline the invitation would be both rude and cowardly, and Onda and Seveline were counting on that.
“It’s a trap.” The words came out flat.
Ilemina nodded. “They’ll provoke you. They’ll try to test you to see what you know. Failing that, they’ll seek to humiliate you.”
“They’re counting on Arland. If they insult me enough, and I run to him crying, he’ll be honor bound to do something about it. They’re getting bolder.”
Ilemina’s gaze was direct and cold. Maud had seen this exact expression on Arland’s face, right before he threw himself at a world-destroying flower. Ilemina had made up her mind. Neither Kozor nor Serak would get off this planet unscathed. It chilled Maud to the bone.
“Do you want the post of Maven?” Ilemina asked.
She didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”
Ilemina turned to the screen glowing on the wall. A recording began playing. Onscreen, Seveline dashed at a group of otrokar. Each of the five Horde warriors was bigger than Seveline. Maud had fought the Hope-Crushing Horde before; they had earned their name and then some. Seveline danced through them, slicing limbs, cutting bodies, graceful, lethal, unstoppable…A radiant smile played on the vampire knight’s lips. Blood stained her blond hair. She looked like a berserker, lost to the slaughter, but she moved like a fighter completely in control of her body. Fluid. Precise. Aware. Underneath a caption glowed.
Seveline Kozor
57 confirmed kills
Shit.
Onscreen, Seveline beheaded a warrior with a single swing and laughed. She seemed to know where every one of her opponents was at all times, anticipating their movements before they made them.
Ilemina sank steel into her voice. “You will go to this wassail and you will endure every assault on your honor and dignity. Under no circumstances are you to draw your sword. Do you understand me, Maven?”
“Yes, Preceptor.”
“So, is it customary for humans to be kept as pets?” Seveline asked.
Maud sipped her coffee. It was genuine Earth coffee, given as a gift to the bride by House Krahr, and sweetened with some local syrup until it was less drink and more dessert. The bridal party about lost their minds when they watched her pour cream into it.
She was painfully aware of both Onda and Seveline starring at her. The questions started the moment she sat down and became progressively more outrageous. The last one was an insult. If she were a vampire, by now there would be blood.
It wasn’t a bad plan. Isolate her. Get her drunk. Insult her until she threw the first punch, then kill her. They were likely recording this to absolve themselves of blame. Maud had done a mental sweep of the room when she entered. The situation hadn’t changed. They were in a tower, in a round chamber. Eight tables, four vampires each. She could hold her own, but nobody was that good. Ilemina was right. If I draw my sword, I won’t make it out of here alive.
Her best defense was to pretend to be dense. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
Seveline heaved a sigh. Onda leaned forward, brushing her chestnut hair out of the way. “It’s a logical question. You are not a member of our society. You have no rights, no purpose, and offer no benefit to House Krahr.”
“Aside from sexual amusement for the Marshal,” Seveline added.
“In other words, you’re being kept around as a source of comfort, much like a dog.”
“That’s not true,” Seveline said. “Dogs serve a purpose. They warn you of intruders and add to your safety.”
“Very well, not a dog then.” Onda waved her arm. “A bird. A pretty, ornamental bird.”
Maud raised her eyebrows. “So, what you are saying is, I’m here for the Marshal’s sexual amusement like a pretty bird? Are members of House Kozor in the habit of copulating with their pet birds? I had no idea you had such exotic tastes.”
The two women blinked, momentarily derailed.
Seveline switched to Ancestor Vampiric. “I’m going to wring her neck.”
The bride chose that moment to float by, all smiles. She smoothly turned, rested one hand on Seveline’s shoulder, and still smiling, said, “Do it and I will personally jab a knife in your eye. You have a simple job—provoke this bitch. How hard could this be? The hunt is about to start. Get on with it.”
Interesting.
Kavaline offered Maud a bright smile. “Are you enjoying yourself? These two aren’t bothering you, are they?”
The temptation to answer in Ancestor Vampiric was almost too much. “Not at all. They’ve been the soul of courtesy.”
Onda looked like she was about to have an aneurism.
The bride’s smile sharpened. “So glad to hear it.”
She floated away.
“So, you’re content with being a bedwarmer?” Onda asked. “How will this reflect on your daughter? Or do you expect her to learn by example?”
“What a good question,” Seveline said. “Perhaps you have already selected a client for her?”
Amateurs.
“What a disturbing thought,” Maud said. “Sexual contact with a child is forbidden. It’s incredibly damaging to the child. I’m surprised this is tolerated within House Kozor. This is turning out to be a very educational conversation. Birds, children…Is anything off limits to your people?”
Onda turned gray, shaking with rage.
Seveline glared. “We do not have sex with children!”
Vampires at other tables turned to look at them.
“So, just birds, then?” Maud asked.
Seveline picked up the pitcher of coffee, jumped to her feet, and hurled the contents at Maud. There was no time to dodge. The coffee was barely warm, but it drenched her completely.
Onda’s eyes were as big as saucers. The room went silent.
Seveline stared straight at her, anticipation in her eyes.
Maud looked back. It’s still your move, bitch.
Seveline unhinged her jaws. “Coward.”
Under the table, Maud sank her fingernails into her palm. In her mind, she flipped the table, gripped her sword, and drove her blade into Seveline’s gut.
A moment passed.
Another.
The sticky coffee slid down her neck, dripping from her hair.
Another.
Seveline bared her fangs in a vicious grimace, spun on her heel, and stomped off. The door hissed shut behind her.
Maud sat very still. This could still go bad. If they came at her now, her best bet would be to jump out the window. It was a thirty-foot fall to the ledge below, but she could survive it.
Kavaline opened her mouth. Every pair of eyes watched her.
“My lady, we are dreadfully sorry. I do not know what came over her.”
“Clearly,” Maud said, her tone dry, “some people just can’t handle their coffee.”
A light ripple of laughter spread through the gathering.
“You are most gracious,” the bride said.
Oh, you have no idea. “I implore you, think nothing of it. Please excuse me, I must now change.”
“We wouldn’t dream of keeping you.”
Try and you’ll regret it.
Maud gritted her teeth as the long elevator sped downward, through a shaft carved in the heart of the mountain. Getting the sticky coffee mess out of her hair had taken forever. Getting it off her armor had taken even longer. She’d had no time to apply any cosmetics or make herself in any way presentable.
She was never fond of caking makeup on her face, but she’d always loved eye shadow and mascara. In exile, mascara became an unattainable luxury and often a hinderance. Having mascara bleed into your eyes while you sweated buckets trying to kill an opponent twice your size before she did you in wasn’t exactly a winning strategy. But as soon as Maud had gotten to the inn, Dina invited her to raid her makeup stash. Maud had worn eye shadow, mascara, and a light lipstick every day since landing on this planet. Now, her face was bare, her hair was wet, because she didn’t dare to waste three minutes drying it, and she still, somehow, smelled of that damn coffee.