I sputtered, “That’s bullshit.”
“All from your people’s making, your majesty. When Ysander and Devin tried to see me at your home,” his eyes flicked to Lord Belshazzar and back, “a certain lord made it adamantly clear to them they were not allowed inside.”
I remembered the night Lord Belshazzar had been pulled away from the bed. We didn’t need to spend time out in the cold chatting about the details either. I could imagine how that conversation had gone—if any words were spoken. I only hoped there had been a lot of druid blood involved.
We were going in alone because of that now. To a place no vampire had ever been before. To a place of druid magic. There better have been a lot of damn blood spilled from the two druid assholes currently standing on either side of Master Niallan, each with a smirk on his handsome face.
Though, one stood a little closer than the other.
I was now betting he killed Devin.
Earlier, I’d decided Ysander.
My mind still might change.
But I hoped a miracle occurred, and it was both of them. A vampire Queen could dream.
Lord Belshazzar stuffed his hands into his pockets. He sighed heavily, and a puff of white air appeared in front of his mouth. “You’re set on this, aren’t you?”
“One hundred percent,” Master Niallan said without pomp. He wasn’t lying. “The choice is now yours.”
The lords glanced at one another. Silent.
“Fuck,” Lord Cato snapped. He pivoted and marched through the ankle-deep snow toward the waiting SUVs. “I’ll take care of our guards. Someone grab my bags too. I’d rather not be out here all night.”
Snow crunched under my boots as I walked to the back of the first SUV. I lifted the hatch and started grabbing bags. I handed them off to silent lords who reached for them.
With my teeth clenched, I stated, “We should probably leave one of you behind. That person could go back with our guards.”
Lord Pippin shook his head. “All living Overlords must be present for the Challenges. It is law.”
We moved to the next SUV.
I pulled out more bags, still thinking. “Are there any loopholes for that?” If all our royalty died at the same time, the vampire race would be in chaos. “There has to be something.”
Lord Xenon held two large bags down by his sides. “Our law is steadfast on this one. There are no loopholes for Challenges.”
My brows scrunched. I turned to face them. “What about me then? Do I need to be there?”
Our people were all, and to take a risk like this could be catastrophic if it didn’t absolutely need to happen. Want versus need were two very different things. The Secret may need to wait.
“The Queen must be at two of the King Novitiate’s Challenges. You can’t stay behind either.” Lord Otto stared with meaning. “We all have to go in there for his Challenges.”
This meant I still didn’t know everything.
If we needed to go into that druid stronghold, with the possibility of death for all of us, then I definitely didn’t know the whole story. This is where they needed to be instead of taking care of the Challenges elsewhere. Their plan was moving forward despite the risk. There was only one thing they’d kept silent about recently.
I grunted. “The attack?”
Lord Belshazzar cracked his neck.
The rest stayed silent.
Fucking law.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. I shoved the hatch down a little harder than needed and picked up my bags from the snowdrifts where I’d set them. The wind whipped at our faces without mercy. “Next time, a little heads up would be appreciated. I know you can manage that. You all talk more without words than anyone I know.”
Lord Belshazzar’s lips twitched. He played on his words from earlier. “That still wouldn’t have changed the outcome.”
I snorted, annoyed—and amused. “No, it wouldn’t have.” We were still walking in there. Guards or not. I tipped my head to where my father was now standing next to Master Niallan and his goons in this hellish winter land. “Lead the way, my lords.”
I may have given them the lead so I could sneak next to Lord Belshazzar again without anyone wondering at my motives.
I could sip on druids all day long and then walk on their corpses without breaking a sweat. But this snowstorm was messing with my vampire senses. All I could see was unusual darkness and thrashing snowflakes in front of my face. There had to be druid magic at work here, protecting against vampires, using our natural gifts against us. I wouldn’t be surprised if rocks suddenly appeared under our feet and attempted to trip us during our trek.
“Follow me,” Master Niallan ordered. He turned and hiked directly off the road, speaking over his shoulder. “If you lose sight of me from here on out, you’re fucked. So stay close.”
Knew it. Druid shit.
The snow grinding under our boots began to echo all around, obscuring our essential hearing. Our breathing charged the air like a banging on a warrior’s drum, the soft flakes turned to stinging pellets against any exposed flesh.
Irritated, I growled, “How far is it?”
Ysander laughed loud and clear. “Two minutes in with druid magic and you’re already complaining? You better hide in your room for the entire trip, your majesty. Lord Belshazzar won’t be around all the time to protect you.”
My eyes narrowed on his muscular back, aggravated my actions hadn’t slipped his attention. “Keep thinking I’m a coward. I don’t mind.” And neither did I move away from the lord’s side. Taunting didn’t work on me. “It’ll be easier when I rip your throat out.”
His gaze snapped back over his shoulder. The pleased smile on his face was still in place. “It would be fun to watch you try.”
My smile matched his. I didn’t need to respond.
Now, I was rooting for Ysander’s death.
All by his best buddy’s hands.
Devin could die later. I didn’t mind waiting.
I was a tolerant person.
He chuckled and turned back around. “Your majesty, you look just like your father with that look on your face.”
I knew about my father’s history. It was all part of my training. “Oh, yes. Didn’t Lord Cato find and then trap you in a hole for fifty years? I’m sad I missed that. I imagine shoveling dirt over your body was a true pleasure.”
Ysander’s back muscles twitched.
My father snorted behind me. Quietly.
Lord Belshazzar glanced down in my direction. Lifted a black brow. He droned, “I believe your father added an outhouse over that spot. It was used by our people on a regular basis. It was their favorite shit hole.”
A deep chuckle built up from my chest. It spewed out into the night, catching us both by surprise—considering our surroundings. My eyes sparkled with merriment. “I didn’t know that.”
His blue eyes zeroed in on my laughing mouth. The lord’s lips lifted in an amused grin. “It’s true. The outhouse even had a carving on it.”
This was excellent. “What was it?”
“Shit dropping down into an open mouth.”
I burst into laughter and clutched my bags harder with my fists. I wanted to swing the damn things back and forth and skip around and around the silent and fuming druid in front of me. I sputtered, “Please tell me his mouth was open when he was buried.”
“It was.” Lord Belshazzar turned his attention to the back of the druid’s head in front of him. “I always wanted to ask you, Ysander. When you awoke from your Rest, what did your mouth taste like?”
“Like dirt,” Ysander hissed grudgingly. “And roses and shit.”
My chin trembled. But I controlled myself.
Lord Xenon murmured, “I forgot about the rose bushes. Thorns all around. And the most beautiful blooms. It must have been a real bitch getting yourself out of there.”