The Vampire & Her Witch

Ashlynn’s heart hammered in her chest, loud enough to almost drown out the echo of Nyrielle’s heartbeat alongside her as she examined her mother’s response to hearing that she was betrothed to a vampire, looking for the faintest sign of rejection that might appear before her mother could smooth it away...

She found none.

Instead, a slow smile spread on her mother’s lips, and a look of delight spread across her features.

”Oh,” Maela said as she pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips and her eyes widened. ”Oh my,” she said, pressing her other hand to her chest for a moment before she reached for her own goblet of wine, drinking close to half the cup at once before returning her gaze to her eldest daughter.

”I see,” Maela said as several pieces fell into place behind her eyes, each one adding up to a picture she should have noticed much, much earlier in the conversation. The shocks of this evening, however, had come too quickly on each other’s heels and she’d missed several signs that would have been obvious if she’d been talking to anyone but her own daughter.

Or, rather, if she’d been talking to her daughter at any moment other than this one, when there was so much pain and hurt swirling around their reunion. But this... This was a statement that held no hurt at all.

”Now I see why your empire has two empresses,” Maela said as her heart soared in her chest. ”She couldn’t bear for your position to be lower than hers, and you couldn’t do that to her either. I’ve met very few lords who could do what the two of you have done. Even in Blackwell, a count and a countess are still far from equal.”

”It sounds like I’ll like your Nyrielle very much,” Maela said. ”But if you want my blessing on your wedding, it will have to wait until I know her better. I entrusted you to the wrong person once, Ashlynn,” Maela said sternly. ”I won’t do the same again.”

”I’m sure you’ll like her, Mother,” Ashlynn said, smiling so broadly that tears of joy spilled from the corners of her eyes. ”Because she makes me very, very happy.”

”That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you,” Maela said, deflating slightly. ”Your father is the one who may take some time to come around to the news. You know how much he wanted a grandson to pass his throne to.”

”He’ll have to pin his hopes on Jocey then,” Ashlynn said with a light, rolling laugh. ”And he may have to wait some time for her to find someone worthy. I won’t let just anyone try to claim my little sister’s heart.”

”Ash!” Jocelynn said, giving her sister a playful shove. ”I don’t even want to think about finding love right now. Besides, under the laws of the empire, he can pass his throne to a daughter just as easily as he can pass it to a son. He doesn’t need to wait for me to give him grandchildren,” she said with a huff.

”Does that mean you want to become the next Lord of the Blood for the Sunrise Isles when Father decides to retire?” Ashlynn asked, raising an eyebrow at her sister. ”If it’s what you want, I’d support you,” she added, thinking about what Nyrielle had said about Jocelynn’s need for something to live for.

Ashlynn had hoped that serving as the Lord Minister of Commerce would help with that, or at least provide Jocelynn with a healthy distraction while they slowly worked to mend things between them. But if Jocelynn would rather return home to Blackwell to rule in their father’s place, she had no objections.

”Father won’t retire for a long time,” Jocelynn said confidently. ”Especially not with you to help care for him. You won’t get rid of me that easily, sister,” she added, sticking her tongue out at Ashlynn.

”You sound confident that Uncle Rhys will join your empire,” Micheline said, looking from one sister to the other. ”But that would mean breaking his oaths with the Crown and putting his whole county in danger. He might not be willing to do that, and even if he was, his lords might not be willing to follow a man who intends to align himself with a Great Witch,” she pointed out.

Even though she was speaking about Rhys, her mind was on her own father. Dylan DuCoumont had agreed to be Ashlynn’s messenger to Duke Argidir Keating, but he had yet to pledge his loyalty to one side or the other in the coming conflict.

Micheline knew that the decision weighed on him heavily and she imagined it would be even harder for Rhys. After all, DuCoumont County bordered Ashlynn’s empire, just the other side of Otker Canyon. Blackwell County, however, lay far down the River Senara, surrounded by Trevarthan Duchy on one side and Keating Duchy on the other.

His position was far more vulnerable, and even for his daughter, he might not be able to take a stand against Gaal without dooming his own people. In such a position, a man would have to walk very carefully if he didn’t want to find a knife in his back, placed there by one of his own vassals hoping to prove their loyalty to the king.

”I don’t think you have to worry about Father,” Ashlynn said with a sly smile. ”He already sent word that he intends to stand with us against Gaal and the Holy Warriors from across the sea,” Ashlynn said.

”How?” Maela asked, caught off guard once again. It seemed like this evening would have no end of great shocks for her. ”Your man, Marcel, reached me with incredible speed, and we’ve only just made it back to you today. How could you have heard from your father already?”

”Someone else took a message about me to Father,” Ashlynn said. ”A long-time ally of our family. Tell me, Mother, how much has Father told you about our family’s pact with the Mother of Tides?”