She led me from the room, and I followed her every step as she explained every room that we passed.
“This is the Hall of Kings.” She was droning on about history I hardly cared about. Instead, I was mentally mapping every turn, every room.
Portraits hung along the wall, all of them men who looked like they thirsted for power almost more than the one before them. Until we came to the current king of Citlali. It should have been his wife’s face who stared down at me from that wall.
“This is where Prince Gavril’s portrait will hang once he is crowned king.”
She glanced back at me, but I was still staring up at the blank wall. I was overwhelmed with the thought of the future king of Citlali’s portrait would hang there. My future husband.
“He’ll make a handsome king. Don’t you think?”
“Yes. Of course.” There was no denying it. Gavril Achlys was beyond handsome. Everything about him felt regal and impressive. He was nothing as I thought he would be.
“The library is just this way.” We turned down the hallway and through an arched door that led to the low-lit space.
Rows and rows of books reached from floor to ceiling, and the room seemed to break off even more as the books continued.
“This is beautiful.” I ran my hand over a few spines as I explored. I had read my fair share of books, but I had never seen anything like this. There were more books here than I could read in a lifetime.
“It is. This library holds all of our histories including your own,” Eletta said so absently, but my gaze slammed into hers.
“There are histories of the Starblessed here?”
She nodded before fidgeting with her dress. “I have seen Prince Evren reading them before.”
That news shocked me. What did he care about the history of my people?
“Can you leave me here, Eletta?” I looked around me and tried to give her a convincing smile. “I would like to read for a bit. You can retrieve me if I am called upon.”
“Certainly.” She bowed her head before quickly departing and leaving me with my thoughts.
The only history I had ever been told of the Starblessed was what those in my town had known. Legends passed down from one generation to the other, and most of the information was lacking.
My heart raced as I skimmed through the titles on the shelves. There were books of kings and fae legends. Tales of past wars and alliances.
But I stopped when I read the gold words along a black leather-bound book. The Rise and Fall of Sidra. I slid the book from the shelf and flipped it open quickly.
This was where Evren had been stationed. A prince of Citlali occupying the border of his enemy.
And from what I had been told, they were a formidable enemy indeed.
I dropped into a chair near the small fireplace and flipped through the fading pages. There were drawings depicting the vampyres of Sidra. But to me, they looked so similar to the fae; the lack of sharp ears the only real difference I noted.
But then I came to the page that told of the way a vampyre fed. My eyes prowled over the words quickly as I took in every bit of information I could. The legends I had been told and that of this text were differing.
I had thought a vampyre must feed daily, but according to the book in front of me, they could go years without tasting blood on their lips. But a lack of blood also meant lack of power. With every day they abstained, their power grew weaker.
But it was the drawing on the next page that made my breath leave me in a rush. It depicted a male vampyre with his teeth exposed and ready to sink into the neck of the woman in front of him. She didn’t look frightened from the drawing. She looked euphoric. She looked…
“I hadn’t realized you had such an interest in the vampyres of Sidra.”
I slammed the book closed as I heard his voice and brought my trembling hand to my chest. “You startled me.”
Evren was leaning against the doorway, his shoulder pressed into the wood and his legs crossed at the ankles. I had no idea how long he had been there.
“I didn’t mean to.” He ran his hand absently over his bare forearm where his shirt was rolled up. “You were enraptured in that text.”
I pressed the book into my chest as if that would save me from him knowing exactly what I was reading. “Am I not allowed to read it?”