An Undead Rebellion (Sequel)

Dead Fingers In My Veins

The wedding was three days away and the castle seemed to be growing more and more chaotic as the days passed. I had a full house; between Corey’s family and the former slaves I was harboring, not that I minded having all of them here, it just got to be a handful sometimes with all the distractions from work.

Speaking of work - or a form of it anyway- as for the publicity side of my job as royalty, Salem and I had a photo shoot and interview with one of, if not the most prestigious and infamous magazines in the country, today.

Normally, the Queen and King (in this case King-to-be) didn’t do very many interviews, especially for magazines and the like, in fact I had actually done a total of none since inheriting the crown, but my mom had pressed for me to accept the invitation to do this one because the magazine was well established and respected, and they wouldn’t overstep their boundaries. She insisted the extra publicity before the wedding would be only a good thing, and that the people should get to know their soon-to-be King a bit better as well. The closer the public felt to us; the better they loved us.

I wasn’t entirely sure of anything about love on my side of the tables. The public and I had a bad reputation after the whole stint of almost marrying an enslaved vampire. Which I would have gladly gone through with, even now, but things had gotten even more so delightfully complicated since then.

Corey had barely said a word to me since I spoke to him to reveal about my demon origins, even when I attempted to initiate a conversation; he always seemed very distant and said little in the way of responses. Most of the time I saw him hanging around Drake, or his brothers, especially Mikey, but he never went out of his way to see me, I just happened to cross paths with him when I needed to speak to Drake or when I was walking from one destination in the house to another.

For the most part I had been maddeningly busy with the wedding approaching so swiftly, and most of my time was spent by Salem’s side, even during the night. A couple of times we had even managed to slip back over to the Underworld and visit with his mother, who looked forward to the wedding more than even Salem or I did. I made sure to add her into the guest list, with a seat up in the front isles, even though we had to move around a few people to make it work.

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to my mom about our apparent demon ancestry, but that was changing today, because I had invited her over this afternoon for coffee after the photo shoot and interview for the magazine was over with.

 It started early, the make-up and hairstylists had showed up first; and I was being primped and prodded for an hour in my bathroom while I tried not to doze off. The clothing stylist had brought multiple sets of outfits for Salem and I, and the first thing I changed into was a very pretty ivory gown that was slim-fitting and semi-sheer, with a low neckline and silver jewels crisscrossing the bodice. My makeup for the first outfit was subtle; they complimented my pallid skin with a warm pink blush, cream eye-shadow, and a nude, glossy lip.

The photographer wanted to take advantage of the natural scenery outside in the backyard, especially with the fountain, because he loved the rustic look of it, and the natural lighting was near perfect, they only needed a few lights set up in certain places, and moved for different angles.

   Salem was dressed in a stylish, but edgy suit, very modern looking. Something not like much I had seen him in before; he tended to lean more towards Victorian era fashion with a bit of a modern or futuristic flare to the vintage look, a unique style here, but more common in the Underworld.  

The photo shoot in the backyard lasted about an hour, and ended up with me accidently splashing Salem with water from the fountain, in which he took rather gracefully, even as I laughed. He got me back when I didn’t expect it, though, and I got face full of water as I was turning back around after exchanging words with one of the stylist’s onset.