Blood & Shadows

Twenty-Five

My day is spent in bed and I don't emerge from the tangle of warm limbs until after dusk. Vrythien and I take our bath together as Trysten bathes me and combs out my hair, giving Lilyse a break for the day.

The gown I choose for the day is fine garnet and black damask. I'm still weak from feeding Vrythien, but I wouldn't trade that light-headed sensation for anything in the world. He looks so much better for having fed. The storm still rages outside, adding an extra chill to the air that forces me to wear a cloak indoors. It's not the wolf pelt but rather a slinky sable, the color has enough of a hint of brown in it to stand out. If it weren't so warm, I wouldn't have picked it.

No matter how safe the palace is, Vrythien and I sit in my outer chamber reading as Trysten carries out his duties as a servant.

"Have you spoken to the Priestess and Paladin of late?" Vrythien glances up from his book. The book is simple and has no markings on its spine.

"Yes, I spoke with Faeriel and told her that I would like to go after Razeth on Eliothine." I speak as though it's nothing and look back down at my book as he lofts a brow.

"That's only a month away. Have you thought of how you're going to approach him?" Vrythien slips a finger between the pages of his book and stares at me, but my attention is fixed on that book. It's not merely some obscure tome from the library--its one of my father's journals.

"Why are you reading that?"

He glances down at the journal, studying the worn cover. "When I was under your father's care, Lord Mordreth had yet to be defanged so to speak. A skilled blood sorcerer has nothing to fear from a vampire. One as powerful as your father shouldn't have feared Lord Mordreth and yet he did." He opens the book.

"Only a fool wouldn't fear a Vampire High-Lord. Ezrath is bad enough."

"Blood Sorcery can unmake a vampire, granted its supposed to be harder the older they are but Lord Mordreth made him fearful. What would terrify a sorcerer? I remember the look on your face when you couldn't access your power under the temple. Lord Mordreth had to have something that could stop magic."

"And you're hoping it would be in there?"

"Do you recall what I said when you woke up? I mean it, you know. He'll never hurt you again. I can give you that much." He nods once before returning to the book. "I can swallow the bile of gleeful regaling of my flaying if it puts us that much closer to ending Razeth. I've had to stomach worse for less." He mutters the last bit to the pages, and I watch him for a time, his face that blank, unreadable mask as he scans the pages quickly. I sigh and hold out my hand, summoning the book to me. The heavy grimoire covered in and full of Vrythien's flesh feels extra heavy in my hand, and my stomach flops, simply holding it while beside him.

Those intense rubies slide from the journal to the book, and for a moment, he stares before sitting up straighter and returning to his reading without a word. After Trysten finishes his chores he joins us, setting a plate of food on the small table for me that I pick at as I read what is perhaps the very worst sort of ritual.

"What's above a Vampire High-Lord?" I ask as I stare at the word Sovereign written and underlined.

"Nothing. There are different degrees of High-Lord, but there isn't anything above it." Vrythien shrugs, as he flips a page.

"Sovereign. Ezrath wants to be one vampire above them all." I swallow. "That's what's in this book, the means to make Ezrath just a step under a god."