Realm of Monsters

Chapter 620: Coterie of Nobles

  As the sun was beginning its descent, a group of carriages arrived in front of the Blackvein Manor. Three entourages of servants stepped out from the carriages, holding up black parasols for their vampire lords and lady. The three nobles glanced at each other, a question on their lips, but they refrained from conversing and headed for shelter from the sun.

  An awaiting butler showed them into the manor and led them down the halls and to the parlor room where the mistress of the house awaited. 

  Lord Tavian Nindralis spoke up first. “Lady Blackvein, why have you called us all here on such short notice and haste? We are not your servants to be called upon.”

  Lady Seraphine Blackvein rose from her seat with the elegance of a vampire and opened her arms in a welcoming gesture, “Forgive me, I meant no offense. Truly, I’m glad you all made it. Please, have a seat. My servants have prepared refreshments.” Bottles of bloodwine lined the table alongside several pastries. “If you prefer fresh blood, I can have some slaves brought in. As for your question, Lord Nindralis, I'll be happy to answer it soon enough.”

  “Very well,” Lord Tavian Nindralis grumbled and took a seat. His was a powerful Great House whose members often served in the infrastructure of the city. Whether it was maintaining the Districts or the sentinels that patrolled them, House Nindralis always had a hand in it.

  “Thank you for the invitation, my lady, always a pleasure,” said Lord Jaspin Morvain as he stepped forward, took Lady Blackvein’s hand, and kissed her ring. Among the three guests, his was the only Lesser House. House Morvain had been vassals to the Great House of Blackveins for centuries and their most staunch supporters.

  “Do you have any giant’s blood?” asked Lady Isolde Ravelle as she sauntered to the table. Even in the dark, candle-lit confines of the room, she still wore a black veil. 

  Lady Blackvein’s welcoming smile cracked for a moment. “I’m sure we can find at least one such very rare bottle in our stores if it’s for you, Lady Isolde.”

  “Why don’t you just ask for a small chest of gold?” Lord Jaspin Morvain muttered and glared at Isolde Ravelle.

  But his derision didn’t faze Isolde in the slightest. She took a seat in a languid manner as if she were relaxing in a bath. There were few people who could shake the Lady of the most prominent vampiric mage House in all of Hollow Shade, and none were in this room.

  “So, care to tell us why we are here, Lady Seraphine?” asked Tavian. He was a big man, broad-shouldered with a square jaw and an ugly scar down his side from a duel he had in his youth. The healers could have smoothed it away, but he preferred to keep the scar as a reminder of his victory.

  Seraphine felt her emotions boil inside her, but she tried her best to keep her expression calm as she spoke. “Two days ago, a tragedy occurred in our very own walls—”

  “Her son was executed by Lord Veres for insubordination and the subsequent deaths of over a hundred soldiers while under the command of General Harlan Gale,” said Ravelle.

  “What!? Lord Vern is dead?” Jaspin jumped to his feet. “How have we not heard of this?”

  Seraphine narrowed her eyes at Isolde, “Officially, he died in battle in the plains of the Valley, but I know the truth. House Veres has tried to bury the death of my son as quietly as they can. I have no doubt it is the work of the spider queen.”

  “Elise Veres,” Tavian muttered.

  “So how does she know?” Jaspin pointed an accusing finger at Isolde.

  “Lady Ravelle is a True Blue; there is little that escapes her notice,” said Seraphine before turning to address Isolde herself. “I take it that your presence here means that you stand with me?”

  Isolde cocked her head to the side. “I am here to hear you out. Killing nobility without due process sets a dangerous precedent. I want to know what you wish to do before taking any action. If all you seek is blind vengeance, then I’d rather not side with the woman whose House is about to feel the full might of our liege’s armies.”

  “House Veres is not what it once was,” noted Seraphine. “The armies of all the Ruling Houses have been weakened after Marek’s assault on the city. The Veres line has dwindled to the point that they have elected a hybrid as their lord.”

  “That hybrid is an Ebon Aspirant,” said Isolde.

  “And that somehow forgives any transgression? Even the murder of my son?” asked Seraphine, anger leaking into her voice.

  “He is not an Ebon Lord, just a boy with too much power to know what to do with,” said Jaspin.

  “Vern was executed, not murdered,” corrected Isolde.

  “There can be no execution without a trial. My son was murdered in cold blood,” Seraphine seethed.

  “Lady Isolde makes a good point,” Tavian spoke up. “Lord Stryg is an Ebon Aspirant, that alone was enough for my House to honor its vows to House Veres. But we cannot stand by and let him kill any noble because he deems it so. At this rate, the boy could very well lead House Veres and all its vassals into destruction.”

  “I’m inclined to agree, but what could we do about it? Outright war? We’ll lose,” said Isolde. “Even if everything Seraphine said is true, the Veres still have House Gale.”

  “And we have you, Isolde, and the Great House of Ravelle. Your House alone has more mages than half the Houses sworn to the Veres,” said Jaspin.

  Isolde clicked her tongue. “I told you, I have not yet agreed to join your cause. I am not inclined to send my own to their deaths against the Gales. Even if enough Houses sided with us and we somehow managed to succeed, the death toll would be in the thousands. We’d be left weak and exposed to not only the other Ruling Houses but the other Great Cities.”

  “No, it is as you said, Lady Isolde, we cannot risk outright war.” Seraphine Blackvein leaned forward on the table and steepled her fingers. “Which is why we will try a different approach altogether. A public confrontation exposing the Veres’ lies and demanding retribution. Even the Veres will be unable to hide, and if they try to crush us with unjust force, then most other vassals will rise to oppose them. Lord Veres will be forced to acquiesce to our demands.”

  “And what might those demands be?” asked Isolde. “We need Lord Stryg alive. His potential to become an Ebon Lord could land our Houses at the top of the food chain.”

  “You are correct, but as Jaspin said, he is still just a boy. Sanctions would be enforced. I’d have a council of our own be created to ‘advise’ and control his every political decision, until he is deemed ready to lead,” said Seraphine.

  “Which he never would be,” Jaspin guessed.

  “A puppet king, interesting,” said Isolde. “That sounds great for us, but I don’t think that is enough for a mother who lost her son.”

  “Let me worry about that,” said Seraphine.

  “I’d prefer to know what you have in mind,” said Isolde.

  “As would I,” agreed Tavian.

  “If I tell you, it would implicate you and your Houses, and I’d rather not put any of you at risk. But I can assure you, it will not affect our plans,” explained Seraphine. Her spies had already informed her of Lord Veres’ fondness for the son of his late best friend. One son’s life for another. That would be the price of her son’s murder.

  “Very well, I’ll play along,” Isolde nodded.

  “Whatever you choose, House Morvain will back you, my lady,” said Jaspin.

  “For this plan to stand any chance of success it would have to be a very public confrontation. You’ll need as many nobles as you can to act as a buffer against the Veres and to support your cause,” noted Tavian.

  Seraphine smiled, anger simmering in her eyes. “Fortunately, there is such a gathering happening tonight, and as House Veres’ vassals, we are all invited.”

~~~

  The Veres manor was in full bloom, hundreds of guests feasted in the great hall as a group of musicians prepared to play for the ballroom. Stryg’s birthday party had become a celebration of his mother’s return, and he would have it no other way. Nobles from all across the city had come to visit. Ruling, Great, and Lesser Houses were all in attendance.

  Gale thought it would be good to have the nobles pay their respects to Aurelia, but the prickly First Mother refused unwanted attention and instead stayed in her seat at the head of the Veres’ main table, right next to Stryg and Jahn. She ate her food in comforting silence, while Gian stood watch, keeping every noble and guest away.

  Stryg had missed his mother’s no-nonsense attitude. He kept glancing at her as she ate, a small smile plastered on his face. At first, Aurelia was annoyed by his constant attention, but when the healers had told her how long she had been unconscious and how her son had visited her every day, sometimes hours at a time, she had decided to relent and let him be. Or at least, she tried to.

  Aurelia put down her fork and sighed. “Go mingle with your friends.”

  “Huh? But you’re—”

  “I’m fine. I’ll still be here when you get back.” She gestured to the crowds, sitting and eating, and the rest who were beginning to wander into the ballroom. “They are all here for you. Try to at least talk to some of them.”

  “But—”

  “For my sake, please.” She placed her hand on his forearm. “We’ll talk more later, I promise.”

  “Okay,” Stryg relented. 

  “Good, now shoo.” She waved him away with her fork.

  Gian gave Stryg a silent look of reassurance. Stryg stepped away from the table and did his best to ignore the countless eyes staring at him as he moved through the great hall, searching for a familiar face in the crowd.

  His sisters were at a table reserved for the Noir family, having a drinking contest while Atlas cheered them on. Una and Unalla were watching them with somewhat morbid curiosity. Dolores was there as well, though she wasn’t drinking. Her husband, George, was nowhere to be seen. Stryg had hoped to find Loh, but she wasn’t there either.

  Maeve Mora was introducing Feli to various nobles and merchants. Even Nora had come along with her parents. Her mother, Lady Isabel Azol, was carrying Kamilo in her arms and showing off the infant to other middle-aged ladies.

  Stryg was going to make his way over to the Azols when an unexpected guest walked into his path. Lady Calantha Ashe held a glass of wine in her hand and had on a white close-fitting dress with silver lining, the colors of her House. The dress matched with her warm ebony skin and the silver jewelry in her dark hair. She was the epitome of poise and elegance, save for the troubled expression on her face.

  “Good evening, Lord Veres,” she curtsied.

  “Good evening, Lady Ashe,” he bowed. He didn’t like to bow, but Gale and Gian kept telling him it was custom to do so in polite society, whatever that meant.

  “Thank you for the invitation. I must admit I am somewhat surprised you invited me. I was under the impression you didn’t— approve of me or my House.”

  “Oh, I didn’t make the invitations,” he answered blissfully unaware of what she meant. “Gale and Tauri sent out all the invitations. But I believe it was Gian who invited the Ruling Houses.”

  “I see…” Calantha stared at him for a long, tense moment, as if trying to make up her mind. Finally, she spoke, “I’ll be blunt. If I have done anything to offend you or if my position as de facto leader of the city council bothers you, please tell me. I’d rather know where I stand with one of your kind.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She had offended him? When? He had barely talked to her outside of council meetings.

  Calantha missed the meaning of his words and tried to elaborate instead. “Lord Stryg, I am the Chosen of Bellum.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard, it’s the reason you’re the High Priestess of the city, right?”

  “Among other things,” she said, slightly annoyed. “My point is, I… I know what you are, Lord Stryg.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She glanced around before leaning forward and whispering, “I know you are a son of Stjerne.”

  “How do you—?”

  “I am the Chosen of Bellum, remember?”

  “Oh, so you actually know Bellum?”

  “I have that honor, yes. She is enlightened on many topics, including how to spot a scion of Stjerne walking among us. My question is, why have you chosen to reveal yourself to the nobility of Hollow Shade now?”

  “Revealed myself? I’m not revealing anything, I was just here.” He shrugged. “I haven’t been in hiding, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Calantha gave him a strange look. “If I may be so bold as to ask, how old are you?”

  He frowned. “You are literally at my party celebrating my 21st birthday.”

  “Wait, so you’re actually 21 years old?”

  “We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “Dear gods, you’re an actual godling,” she whispered, wide-eyed.

  “I’m not a baby if that’s what you’re insinuating.” Stryg was tired of his sisters and Lunae calling him that.

  “Ah,” she laughed awkwardly. “Of course, my apologies. I, uh, I’m going to get another drink. If you’ll excuse me.” She curtsied and left, despite her glass being half-full.

  “And they say I’m weird,” he muttered.