wavy brown hair and licked a red smear from his lips.
“Yes, my lady, thank you,” he said with a subtle Spanish accent. “Your concern honors me.”
“I know what it’s like to be ganged up on. All those soldiers against one unarmed vampire?”
“Hardly seems fair for them, does it?” he muttered under his breath.
This guy I like.
“My lady, they were performing a training exercise,” the war master explained, scowling at the vampire.
“The soldiers cannot leave the circle until they draw blood,” Lucas said.
“So they all take turns trying to stab him?” I asked, waiting for someone to disagree.
“My lady, that is the war page’s duty, to test their skill,” the war master said.
“The who?”
“The war page Santana,” the war master said.
I nicknamed him San in my head, and I extended my hand to him. “I’m Zee.”
I heard the Empress clear her throat, and from the corner of my eye I saw the war master rush toward the war page. San drew back.
“My lady,” the Empress said.
“Page,” the war master warned.
San considered the moment, perhaps trying to weigh who to offend, the war master or me.
“Page,” the war master said again. Without looking at his superior San bowed to me. Disappointed, I withdrew my hand.
“Come, my lady,” the Empress said. “Let us show you the opera house.”
The Empress turned to leave, and my guards stepped between me and San. As our parade headed out of the training area, I heard the war master snarl, “Don’t make me warn you twice ever again.”
I looked back and saw the war master yank the whip from his body. With a flick of his wrist he cracked it, tearing open San’s cheek and releasing a spray of blood.
My face hot, I shouldered through my guards and headed for the war master. His back was to me as he brought the whip up and snapped it again.
I snatched the braided length out of the air, pulling the leather taut like a tightrope between us. A blade shaped like an arrowhead dangled from the end. The war master’s jaw went slack.
“Don’t,” is all I said.
He dropped the whip and bowed. “My lady.”
San smirked, rivulets of blood running into his dimples, but he tempered his pleasure as the Empress approached.
“My lady?” she asked.
“I’ve seen enough violence today,” I said.
“Of course, my lady,” she said. “The war master will ensure there will be no blood shed in your presence.”
“Fine,” I replied. I tossed the weapon aside.
“My lady, you are most magnanimous,” the Empress said.
The war master retrieved his weapon like a sulking child, snatching it from the ground and wrapping it around his neck as if it was a scarf.
Did I get San in trouble by trying to protect him? Will they hurt him when I walk away?
“Will I see you again, San?” I said a little too cheerfully, to mask my nerves.
“Whenever you wish, my lady,” he said.
“There’s a ceremony tomorrow.” I turned to the Empress. “Will San be there?”
She paused. “If that is your wish, the war page will attend.”
San bowed, his brown eyes never leaving mine, and I smiled.
“You don’t think they’ll hurt him, do you?” I asked Lucas as we left.
“Why?” His reply was quick.
“I don’t want him further punished because of me.”
“Well, that’s exactly what they’re going to do.”
And his wounds will heal, so I won’t see his pain tomorrow.
My brain buzzed from our tour. For our last stop Uther brought Lucas and me to a waiting room for Dr. Femi.
I had seen so much and I wanted to talk about it. But Lucas was not in a talking mood.
We sat on a white leather couch together. The room, with its cream carpeting and tufted, cushy walls, felt lonely. Pavone had gotten me to change into a beaded blue dress with a stiff tulle skirt so that every time I shifted in my seat, it sounded like I was playing maracas. “I need to have a talk with Pavone. I look like a ballet-dancing Smurf.”
Lucas didn’t respond.
“Yes, my lady, thank you,” he said with a subtle Spanish accent. “Your concern honors me.”
“I know what it’s like to be ganged up on. All those soldiers against one unarmed vampire?”
“Hardly seems fair for them, does it?” he muttered under his breath.
This guy I like.
“My lady, they were performing a training exercise,” the war master explained, scowling at the vampire.
“The soldiers cannot leave the circle until they draw blood,” Lucas said.
“So they all take turns trying to stab him?” I asked, waiting for someone to disagree.
“My lady, that is the war page’s duty, to test their skill,” the war master said.
“The who?”
“The war page Santana,” the war master said.
I nicknamed him San in my head, and I extended my hand to him. “I’m Zee.”
I heard the Empress clear her throat, and from the corner of my eye I saw the war master rush toward the war page. San drew back.
“My lady,” the Empress said.
“Page,” the war master warned.
San considered the moment, perhaps trying to weigh who to offend, the war master or me.
“Page,” the war master said again. Without looking at his superior San bowed to me. Disappointed, I withdrew my hand.
“Come, my lady,” the Empress said. “Let us show you the opera house.”
The Empress turned to leave, and my guards stepped between me and San. As our parade headed out of the training area, I heard the war master snarl, “Don’t make me warn you twice ever again.”
I looked back and saw the war master yank the whip from his body. With a flick of his wrist he cracked it, tearing open San’s cheek and releasing a spray of blood.
My face hot, I shouldered through my guards and headed for the war master. His back was to me as he brought the whip up and snapped it again.
I snatched the braided length out of the air, pulling the leather taut like a tightrope between us. A blade shaped like an arrowhead dangled from the end. The war master’s jaw went slack.
“Don’t,” is all I said.
He dropped the whip and bowed. “My lady.”
San smirked, rivulets of blood running into his dimples, but he tempered his pleasure as the Empress approached.
“My lady?” she asked.
“I’ve seen enough violence today,” I said.
“Of course, my lady,” she said. “The war master will ensure there will be no blood shed in your presence.”
“Fine,” I replied. I tossed the weapon aside.
“My lady, you are most magnanimous,” the Empress said.
The war master retrieved his weapon like a sulking child, snatching it from the ground and wrapping it around his neck as if it was a scarf.
Did I get San in trouble by trying to protect him? Will they hurt him when I walk away?
“Will I see you again, San?” I said a little too cheerfully, to mask my nerves.
“Whenever you wish, my lady,” he said.
“There’s a ceremony tomorrow.” I turned to the Empress. “Will San be there?”
She paused. “If that is your wish, the war page will attend.”
San bowed, his brown eyes never leaving mine, and I smiled.
“You don’t think they’ll hurt him, do you?” I asked Lucas as we left.
“Why?” His reply was quick.
“I don’t want him further punished because of me.”
“Well, that’s exactly what they’re going to do.”
And his wounds will heal, so I won’t see his pain tomorrow.
My brain buzzed from our tour. For our last stop Uther brought Lucas and me to a waiting room for Dr. Femi.
I had seen so much and I wanted to talk about it. But Lucas was not in a talking mood.
We sat on a white leather couch together. The room, with its cream carpeting and tufted, cushy walls, felt lonely. Pavone had gotten me to change into a beaded blue dress with a stiff tulle skirt so that every time I shifted in my seat, it sounded like I was playing maracas. “I need to have a talk with Pavone. I look like a ballet-dancing Smurf.”
Lucas didn’t respond.
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