“Yes, well, Caleb is no longer regent. He seeks to move against me, but I intend for him to be long dead before that happens. My twins, they were staked, long ago. A mother knows these things, and so does a sire, and I was both to them. Viktor and Encee are sweet boys who tag after my skirts. But they know perfectly well they are not fit to rule, and they are content to remain at home. In this monarchy, intelligence matters. The pair are loving, but they have no capacity for leadership. Anastasia might have taken the throne, but she prefers to play her part from behind the scenes. She told me once that she would do anything to help except to wear the crown. As she put it, ‘A crown brings with it attempts at assassination.’ And she is correct.”
That made six, and Roman was seven. “What about your eighth child?”
Blood Wyne glanced over at Roman, whose expression turned dour. He hung his head and shrugged. The Queen returned her gaze to me. “Our dark Paulette. To be honest, she remains imprisoned in my castle. A beautiful captive, as mad as she is immortal. I cannot bring myself to stake her, and yet she is thoroughly an animal. Her mind could not handle the years of life my blood gave to her and she slowly slipped into her predator. We feed her, make sure she has comfort, but she must never be allowed to escape or she would terrorize the land—a dark queen caught by the feral madness of her soul.”
Images of Sassy Branson flashed through my mind; she had lost the battle to her inner predator. She had begged me to stake her, and when the time came, I did. Even as I staked her heart, I was hating myself for it, but afterward, I saw her spirit walking free from her body, at peace once more, and I knew I had done the right thing.
“You should let her go. I don’t care how much you love someone. Keeping them alive in that state? It’s cruel.” If Blood Wyne wanted to be honest with me, she’d get honesty in return.
“I have told Mother the same many times.” Roman stood and paced around the room. “I will do it, if need be, but you know we should set Paulette free.”
Blood Wyne lingered on my face, searching my eyes. “I will consider your words. But if someone sets her free, it must be me. I both brought her into this world and birthed her into her life as a vampire.” A veil of exhaustion seemed to sweep over her face, but then she shook it away and cleared her throat.
“Back to the matter at hand. You see why we need someone who can claim the throne if something happens to me, or to Roman. Menolly, you are my choice. I trust you will not have the desire to claim it too soon. Yet, should you be forced to ascend, you would rule wisely and well.”
As the information began to soak in, I found my mind churning with questions and reasons why this wouldn’t work. And yet . . . and yet . . . there was a part of me that understood her reasoning. I was already considered the official consort, but that gave me no real authority when push came to shove.
Blood Wyne seemed to sense my ambivalence. “Be assured, this is a political match. Roman will not usurp Nerissa’s place as your spouse, except in the Vampire Nation.” She turned to Nerissa. “And this is of benefit to you as well. Since you will be considered Second Wife, you will be given the same respect and guarantees of safety as Menolly will. This will cement Menolly’s powers within the Vampire Nation. Those who are hesitant now will have no choice but to accede to her authority. Remember, because Menolly killed her original sire, a horrific sin in the vampire community, she has been ostracized by those who value tradition at all costs.”
Nerissa frowned, and I could see the gears clicking in her head.
I turned back to Roman, who was once again seated by my side. Everything made sense, given the nature of everything going on. I didn’t want to admit it, I didn’t even want to think about it, but having me as an official part of the court might help. The status of consort was basically that of a glorified mistress.
Nerissa finally found her voice. “What do you expect this to be, then? What would that do to my marriage with Menolly? I really don’t want to live here.”
Blood Wyne laughed. “Think, girl. How many matches have been made for the throne that are based on love? Queens and kings have been living separate lives since the beginning of time. I do not expect Menolly to cling to Roman and ignore you. While, yes, you would be required to live here after the coronation, I have no expectations that the two of you stay here every moment, or that you give up your jobs. Nor will your marriage to Menolly take a backseat.”
“How can we be sure?” I finally spoke up. “What assurance do we have that you won’t try to edge out our marriage in favor of my alliance to Roman?”
With a soft smile, Blood Wyne shook her head. “Roman may not wish to admit it, but I can tell very well where your heart—and Nerissa’s heart—rests. And, as much as my son may wish, I think it’s best to call a trump a trump. The two of you love each other in a way that transcends logic. And neither Roman nor I will ever seek to break that bond. If you live here, you will have your own suite together, and you may come and go as you please.”
“We couldn’t possibly move here until after Shadow Wing is taken care of, even if I were to agree now.” I cocked my head. “You know that’s out of the question.”
Blood Wyne remained impassive. “We will decide that in time.”