Moonlight Prince (Vampire Girl #4)

And before me, I see Tavian covered in sweat, shaking on the floor, bleeding from his shoulder.

"No," I fall to my knees, pulling him to me, holding me tight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He lets his head fall back, fall back so we are eye to eye. And I see it is him again, the real him. "I told you, Princess," he says, his voice a raspy whisper. "I told you I must go."

My hands shake. My eyes fill with tears. I tear away a piece of my gown and wrap it around his bleeding shoulder. The wound is not deep, thank the Spirits. "What happened?" I ask as I work, my voice trembling.

"You remember what I told you? How I summoned the Darkness? How I watched it kill my family? There is something else." He clenches his jaw, every word a clear effort. "The Darkness spared those who performed the ritual from death. But it did not spare us entirely. A curse it placed upon us. A curse…"

He reaches for something. The table. Water. He must want water. I rush, grabbing a cup and putting it to his lips. He drinks.

I caress his hair softly, waiting. When he is done, I take back the cup. "What is your curse?" I ask.

"I cannot forget," he says. "I cannot forget anything. The Darkness consuming my wife. The screams of my children as they died. I remember all of it. Every single detail. Every single detail I have ever felt."

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning, feeling his pain.

He clears his throat, raising his voice. "Do you remember the last time you touched hot iron? The last time you burned your hand? Do you remember how it truly felt? The pain?"

"No," I say, realizing what he means. I can recall a part of the pain, but only a part.

"I remember everything," he says. "Every cut. Every burn."

"That is… That is…"

"Horrible?" He smiles for a moment. "Imagine if women could remember childbirth. If they could remember every detail. Had to live with it every day."

"It would drive one mad," I say, sipping some of the water myself.

"It would, wouldn't it?" He pauses. "Most times, I can distract myself with the present. But the past is always there, always by my side, haunting me. Mocking me with every mistake. Every tragedy. For a time, I can ignore its call. But some days it is harder not to listen. And then… then I live in agony."

"I'm so sorry," I say, tears running down my cheek. "I'm so sorry."

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly puzzled. "It is not your fault, Princess. It is my own burden. A burden well deserved."

"No one deserves such a fate."

He shakes his head. "If you could know how my family suffered, if you could know as I know, you would not agree." He tries to push me away.

I don't let him. I hold him tighter. "But you didn't intend to harm them."

"No. No, I didn't. But I must still pay for what I did. For the fool I was."

He pushes me away then, stronger than I expected. I fall back, wiping my tears, Riku chirping into my ear as Tavian grabs his belongings. He wraps his cloak around his shoulders and heads to open the door.

He pauses, holding the handle. "I will leave tomorrow. It is best. Best for me to travel alone. And… I will not tell anyone about Riku. About what you truly are. That is your burden to bear."

With that he opens the door and leaves.

A sharp cold wind hits me, and I wrap myself in the fur rug. Tavian's rug. It smells of him. And I hold it close. Weeping. Weeping for what could have been.

It is hours later, near day, when I remember what Tavian said. What he truly said. I will not tell anyone about Riku. About what you truly are. That is your burden to bear.

Your burden. Your burden. Your burden…

If Tavian kept my secret, then how did Asher know? How did he know?

I grab my fur cloak and run out into the cold winter air. I run back to the castle. There, in an empty hallway, I find Asher. Despite the hour, he is awake, and he walks with a purpose.

I stay in the shadow, trailing him through winding pathways and doors.

Once, I close a door too loudly, and Asher glances back. I freeze, slipping away into a corner. Asher looks around, then shrugs and continues on.

I follow more carefully. Riku, fortunately, doesn't make a sound.

He knows something is wrong here. Something we must uncover.

Asher stops in the middle of a hall, peeks around over his shoulder, then pushes something on the wall. A stone.

A groan echoes through floor, and a piece of the wall slides away. A secret door?

I thought I knew the passages. Fen showed me all of them.

But this. This is not one I know of.

Asher enters the new door, disappearing from sight.

What is he doing? Meeting someone?

Oh, Asher, please don't be a traitor. Please.

I clench my jaw and follow, hoping for the best, dreading the worst. I follow through the secret door, down steps leading deep into the earth. Leading to a chamber shrouded in darkness, lit only a by a few torches casting sinister shadows. Behind a corner, I watch as Asher grabs something from the floor. A tray of food.

He carries it forward. To something in the center of the room.

No. Not something. Someone. A man, bloody and bruised. On his knees. His hand outstretched, bound in chains.

I whisper an incantation, enhancing my night vision. And then I see the prisoner's face.

This… this doesn't make any sense.

The prisoner… the prisoner is Asher?

The man, the prisoner, looks up, and he grins. "No one figure you out yet? Bloody marvelous. Means I still get to be the one who kills you."

It sure sounds like Asher. The voice. The inflections. Even the cocky wit.

The other Asher, the one standing, laughs. It is not his voice. No. It's deeper now. Darker. Familiar.

My gut twists. My hands tremble. It can't be…

The other Asher waves his hand, and his form shimmers, changes. And there he stands.

My father.

Lucian.

Despite myself, memories flash through my mind. Memories of my mother escorting me to High Castle. My first trip there. Waiting for hours in the hall. Hours to see the king. Getting our chance. Walking up to the great king in front of hundreds of people. Oh, how mighty he looked. How grand. Dark hair with only streaks of gray. Black armor covering his body like dragon scales. A mighty sword by his throne, surely too big for any normal man. My mother pushed me forward to stand before him. "This is your daughter," she said.

The king looked at me then. Once. Only once he looked.

"My only daughter is dead," he said.

But, what did he mean? I could not understand. I was his daughter, and I was surely not dead. He was my father. Father's take care of their children. They embrace them. Tell them words of wisdom.