The music swept into a frenzy as Camille and Delilah neared the stage and Nerissa and I began walking down the aisle. The sight of five hundred vampires positioned on either side of us, bowing in a silent wave as we walked by, was a terrifying sight, and I realized just how much damage we could do if we went postal on the city. Beside me, Nerissa’s heart was beating fast and furious, and I realized that my sisters and my wife were probably driving every vampire in here a little bit crazy. Suddenly feeling insecure, even though I knew that Roman’s security was incredibly tight, I put myself on high alert as we made our way to the end of the aisle and up the stairs.
As we took our places, the music died down and then swelled up again—this time with a heavy, deep tone—resounding with restrained power. The back curtains opened and Blood Wyne—in full regalia—glided out to the stage. She wore a heavy dress of crimson, with skirts as wide as I was tall. Gold threads sparkled through the weave, and her robe trailed behind her, the train a good ten feet long. Her diadem of rubies and diamonds sparkled against the upsweep of her hair, and I realized she was floating about three feet off the floor, even though her feet were hidden by her skirts. It gave her an imperial look—larger than life.
To one side of her, a few steps behind, was a vampire in an elegant but simple black suit. To the other, another in a simple black dress. Both had eyes as pale as Blood Wyne’s, and I realized they were old—very old. They both had white hair, and their skin looked almost like alabaster under the lights. I had the feeling that they were just about as powerful as she was, but they trailed her with respect. The next moment, the woman was staring straight at me, her cool eyes aloof, and yet there was wisdom there, and cunning. She tilted her head just the slightest bit and I locked gazes with her, trying to fathom what it was she did. The other vamp looked at Nerissa, then at me, then returned to staring straight at Blood Wyne as if he were feeding her energy.
Blood Wyne raised her hands and the crowd cheered, thundering the halls of the theater. As she lowered her arms, a dead silence swept through. They moved to her beck and call.
“Citizens of the Vampire Nation, sons and daughters of the Crimson Veil, I, your queen, come before you tonight to witness the marriage of my son and heir, Roman, Lord of the Vampire Nation.”
Again, a thundering applause that died off abruptly as she raised one hand.
“By the laws of the Covenant of the Crimson Veil, under the watchful eyes of Kesana, the Great Mother of the Vampire Nation, I do bind and legitimize these ceremonies. Let the proceedings begin, and they will hold as my word and will as Queen of the Crimson Veil.”
The vampires to either side of her echoed in a refrain, very monotone, “So it is and so it will be. Recorded into the History of the Vampire Nation, this ninth evening of May in the twenty-fourth cycle of the reign of Blood Wyne the Magnificent.”
I glanced at them again and realized they were record keepers. I’d heard rumors of them among some of the demonic races, and among the vampires. They were creatures whose sole duty it was to record into memory every important thing that happened. They were walking encyclopedias.
As the ceremony proceeded I began to tune out her words. With all the pomp and pageantry, I was bored. I let my consciousness filter toward the audience, listening. There were the sounds of a very few people breathing. The sounds of their breath stood out as odd in an auditorium filled with over five hundred bodies.
I wondered how many stories were here . . . how each person had been turned. Vampires lived a solitary existence by nature, but put us together and we could create a massively powerful force, if we didn’t do each other in first. Could Blood Wyne accomplish what she hoped to do? Could she create a unified Vampire Nation that could integrate with the other communities on the planet? And perhaps find a way to coexist without having the hatred and fear between the living dead and those still breathing? I hoped so. Because I was tired of the fighting.
“Menolly?”
The sound of my name jolted me out of my thoughts. I jerked, realizing she was talking to me.
“Do you pledge your life and your troth in the service of the Crimson Veil? Do you pledge your loyalty to Roman, Lord and Heir to the Throne, within the keeping of your other sacred oaths? Will you wear the title and crown as Princess Consort, with honor, with loyalty, on threat of your life?”
The oath went on and on. I was now listening carefully, because pledging oath? A serious business and one I would never take lightly. I listened to every word, every nuance, to make certain I wasn’t agreeing to something I couldn’t uphold, but Blood Wyne and Roman had worded it carefully. It would neither compromise my oaths to my sisters, nor to Nerissa.
So when Blood Wyne finally paused, then asked, “Do you, Menolly Rosabelle te Maria D’Artigo, accept and pledge to these vows, upon your life and limb and the sacred blood?” I was able to answer honestly.
“I give you my word, my pledge, and my oath.”
Blood Wyne waited, as the historians intoned, “Menolly Rosabelle te Maria D’Artigo accepts and pledges to these vows upon her life and limb and the sacred blood.” She then turned to Nerissa and basically ran through a similarly long and complex vow. Nerissa was looking half dazed and I had the feeling she’d rather be just about anywhere else right now.