Chapter 8: His Absence, His Call

Alaric

The body drops with a thud. I wipe the blood from my mouth, though the thirst for whom I truly crave remains unsatisfied. I glance down at the maid at my feet; lifeless, motionless. I feel nothing. She was a seductress, one I indulged in many times before. There was no innocence about her, no purity in her ambitions. She used her body as a means to an end, seeking riches, seeking favor. Drinking her blood was not an act of cruelty, merely a transaction completed.

The scent of her blood lingers, but I have already lost interest. It was not what I desired.

Stepping out of the hidden corridors, I am met by Lord Tristan. His stance is rigid, his expression one of careful calculation. He does not speak immediately, which means whatever he has come to say won't be good.

I wave a hand toward the Obsidian Guard, my most trusted warriors, signaling for them to remove the girl’s body from my chambers. They move without hesitation, dragging the lifeless corpse into the shadows.

I turn my attention to Tristan. "Is there a problem?" My voice is void of emotion.

He tilts his head slightly, watching me as though he is measuring his words before speaking. A trait of his that I both appreciate and despise.

"Annora is asking questions."

That makes me pause. I should have expected as much. I frightened her, perhaps even unsettled her more than I intended.

"And what is she asking?" I ask, my tone even.

Tristan exhales, shifting his weight ever so slightly. "She is trying to make sense of what she saw, of what she felt. She may not have the answer yet, but she is circling it." He meets my gaze. "You must be careful, Alaric. If she pieces it together...if she realizes what you are, you will have no choice but to silence her."

A flicker of irritation sparks in my chest. "Silence her?" I repeat, my voice carrying an edge. "Kill her, you mean."

Tristan does not waver. "It is the law. It has been for centuries. You know this better than anyone."

I step closer, my voice low. "And what exactly has she said? Has she called me a monster? Has she spoken the word?"

Tristan holds his ground, his expression unmoved. "No. She has not."

"Well, then," I say, forcing a smirk, "I don’t believe we have anything to worry about."

Tristan exhales through his nose, a sign of disapproval. "Do not be so arrogant, Your Majesty," he says, his voice calm but firm. "You should worry. The girl is sharp. She is not blind to the unnatural. You may think she is nothing more than a frightened servant, but I assure you, she is far more dangerous than that."

A muscle ticks in my jaw. "Dangerous?" I echo. "Annora is a girl. A mortal girl. She poses no threat to me."

Tristan lets out a quiet chuckle, though there is no humor in it. "Then you are a fool."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Watch yourself, Tristan."

He bows his head slightly in respect, but his words do not soften. "You think she is harmless because she does not wield a blade. But you forget, knowledge is power, and she is gathering it. You forget what mortals do when they fear what they do not understand." He straightens, his eyes sharp. "She will not run or cower. She will learn. And once she has the truth, what then? You believe she will keep it to herself?"

I say nothing.

Tristan presses on. "You are attached to her, and that makes you reckless. You are drawn to her, and that makes you vulnerable." He tilts his head slightly. "I cannot blame you. She is exquisite, more than beautiful. And her scent- " he exhales, as if recalling it. "It is unlike anything I have encountered."

The growl rumbles from my chest before I can stop it, low and primal. My fangs ache, my hands curling into fists at my sides. He is testing me. Pushing me.

He smirks, just barely. "I see."

"Mind your tongue!" I snap.

Tristan inclines his head, unshaken. "I serve you, Alaric. And I will always obey my King." His voice lowers. "But I also serve the law. And I will not turn a blind eye if you begin to unravel."

A warning. A challenge.

I exhale, forcing myself to calm. "Annora is mine to handle. She does not frighten me."

Tristan watches me carefully, then nods. "Very well," he says. "But do not say I did not warn you."

He turns on his heel, leaving me in the dimly lit corridor.

His words linger long after he is gone.

.

.

.

Annora

The morning stretches on, and yet, I remain uncalled.

It is unusual. Most days, before the sun has fully risen, a summons arrives, a quiet word from the castle steward, a gesture from the King himself. My duties do not require me to scrub floors or prepare meals like the other servants. I am his personal attendant, tasked with ensuring his needs are met, his chambers prepared, his time uninterrupted by trivial matters.

And yet, today, he does not summon me.

I try not to dwell on it as I move through the halls, ensuring that everything remains in place. His study is in order, books aligned, ink and parchment prepared, quills sharpened. His sitting chamber is untouched, though I adjust the drapes and replace the lavender in the vases, a habit I keep though I do not know if he notices.

Still, he does not call for me.

"You seem lost in thought," Celeste, one of the royal maids, remarks as she passes me in the corridor, balancing a tray of wine.

I glance at her. "Not at all."

She smirks knowingly. "Has he not sent for you today?"

I say nothing. There is no need to answer.

Celeste chuckles. "Perhaps you have finally bored him."

I offer a polite smile, though the words press uncomfortably against my thoughts. Before she can say more, I turn away, deciding to find Livia and Elsa.

---

The halls leading to the servants' quarters are less grand, but familiar. I find them in one of the side chambers, sorting through fresh linens for the guest chambers.

Livia looks up first, her expression immediately brightening. "Annora! Hiding away from your duties?"

"Not hiding," I correct, settling on a cushioned stool. "Merely unoccupied."

Elsa gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "The King has not called for you?" Her wide blue eyes shimmer with something close to excitement, as if she has just learned the first scandal of the season. "Perhaps he is waiting to make your heart grow fonder!"

I laugh softly. "I do not think he concerns himself with such things."

Livia snorts. "Oh, to be you for a single day. To be free of running errands for old noblemen with grabby hands and sour breath." She sighs, dramatically fluffing a folded sheet. "You wake in the finest quarters of the palace, tend to a man who barely asks anything of you, and stand beside a king feared by all. And yet you do not appreciate your position as you should."

"You make it sound far grander than it is," I reply.

Elsa clasps her hands together, eyes gleaming. "But it is grand! He is devastatingly handsome, dark and brooding! And the way he looks at you, Annora...tell me you have noticed?"

"I have noticed that he is a king," I reply carefully.

"Oh, you are hopeless," Elsa groans. "If I were in your place, I would be swept away by the romance of it all."

Livia scoffs. "Romance? Be serious, Elsa. This is not a bard’s tale, Annora is not some princess, and King Alaric is certainly no charming prince." She sobers slightly, her teasing demeanor dimming. "You should be careful, Annora. You work closer to him than anyone. He is powerful, and you are not like the others who serve him. You have caught his eye...that is both a gift and a danger."

I exhale, nodding. "I am careful, Livia."

Elsa huffs, brushing off the warning. "Careful? Annora is cherished! If the King wished her gone, she would be. Instead, he keeps her close. He trusts her."

I shift uncomfortably at that. Trust is not a word I would use, not after last night.

Before I can reply, a figure enters the chamber. Sir Emory.

The castle steward’s presence draws immediate silence.

"The King has summoned you," he announces.

The air shifts.

Elsa’s hands fly to her lips in delight, as if she has been waiting for this very moment. Livia, however, gives me a knowing look.

I rise smoothly, ignoring the way my pulse quickens.

"Of course," I say.

I do not let them see the nerves curling in my stomach.

Alaric has summoned me.

And now, I will face him.