Chapter 72

In his youth, John had learned quickly that the path to power in the vampire kingdom was one that men could not tread easily. Queen Lily came from a long line of powerful women and all the powerful vampire bloodlines were led by women. The Whitcomb line was no exception until his father was born.

He had accepted that the only way to gain power was to marry a powerful woman and wait for, or orchestrate, her death to seize power. Of all the powerful noble and royal women who had been contemporary with him in his youth and throughout the war, Princess Rose August of the vampire domains was the only woman he would have happily ruled beside. Her beauty had been beguiling since they were children; her power had been enchanting.

Her daughter may not have had her power, being an only half-vampire, but her scent was enthralling and she was just as beautiful as her mother had been. It had been a bit of a shock to see her exiting the carriage.

Young with bright golden eyes and a beating heart. It stirred instincts singular to the vampire race, a burning hunger in his soul to taste her blood.

He shuddered a bit at the thought. Would her blood be as sweet as she smelled?

The morning after her arrival, he woke up a bit earlier to groom himself for breakfast. He had to act quickly as he was sure that other lords and perhaps the generals had the same thought to capture her heart and finally get out from under Nicole's oversight.

The thought made him smirk. How it would burn Nicole's pride to have to obey his orders as if they came from the queen. He smiled the entire walk to the dining hall and took his seat. It seemed that she hadn't arrived yet. The generals glanced at him briefly before continuing their conversation about some skirmish at the edge of the territory over farmland.

Another set was speaking with another lord about trade with a human kingdom on the other side and their reclamation efforts.

"We've reached an agreement with the human village living in the lower valley. The sentry has been posted. I'm looking forward to expanding it forward."

"They gave in so easily?"

The man laughed, "I wouldn't call it giving in. It was refreshing to see a human so afraid, but still negotiating for his people!"

"You should have just killed him," John said. They looked at him. "Instead of wasting time and effort dealing with humans of all things."

It would have been different if it was a werewolf.

"When I need the advice of a man who cost us the war, I will ask for it."

A snicker came from his left and John glared at the man, flashing his fangs, "You're treading a line."

"You may have scraped together a militia, but you are not a general," the general said. "It takes more than numbers to win a war and not every battle needs to be won through blood."

John huffed and the room went silent as Nicole opened the door and gestured Daphne inside. The table rose to greet her and John's breath caught in his chest.

She was dressed so similarly to Princess Rose he could have believed she had returned from the dead if not for the difference in their hair color. Her gown was in the same soft pink Princess Rose favored but cut in a more youthful and relaxed style. She looked across the room, taking in the room before giving a gentle smile.

"Good Morning, Your Majesty."

"Good Morning," she said stiffly.

Nicole gave her a fond smile before leading her to the head of the table where the two thrones remained: the queen and the heir. The seat to the queen's left had always been reserved for the royal consort, but it had been more than twenty years since it had been occupied. Nicole escorted her to the throne though Daphne seemed a little uneasy about sitting there. Nicole took her seat on the other side of the consort's seat. Then, they sat and breakfast was served.

"It brings us great joy, Your Majesty, to welcome you home," one of the generals said, an older man who was firmly on Nicole's side. "If the late queen could see you... She'd be breathless."

Daphne wasn't sure what to make of the man. Nicole introduced him formally before going around the table and introducing everyone seated at the table. Daphne tried to remember the short debrief Nicole had given her that morning while getting her ready to meet them.

She knew a little bit about each of them to navigate breakfast successfully, but seeing them all she was confused and a little shocked. They all looked at her with a sort of dazed look in their eyes. Nicole told her that as a half-vampire of the August line, she emitted a scent that was enticing to vampires.

She hadn't had a chance to ask why Nicole seemed unaffected by her scent, but she was sure that she would get her answer.

She turned to the lord who was working on reclaiming lands they'd been forced to abandon during the war in the lower valley.

"How did your negotiations go with the human village in the valley?"

His eyes brightened, "Excellent, Your Majesty. They've been annexed officially and the border at the bottom of the valley has been returned to rights. We start rebuilding the infrastructure there in a few weeks."

Nicole smiled, "I suppose you'll need hands."

He chuckled, "You are right. Is there a chance I can borrow some of your exceptional force for security?"

She chuckled, "I believe that is a question you should ask Her Majesty."

He chuckled, "Yes... it is a great relief to have you here, Your Majesty."

Daphne swallowed, "You... seemed to be doing well since the war... What need could you have for a queen?"

A duchess at the table let out a thoughtful sound before looking at Daphne.

"While you are not wrong," she said. "We have managed to remain united and rebuild quickly... It is not as though we suffer from the lack of a monarch, but there is a limit to our progress without the August line."

Daphne frowned, glancing at Nicole who sipped quietly.

"Could you explain?" Daphne licked her lips thoughtfully and took a bite of food. "What is the limit?"

"The August line is the oldest vampire line, blessed with extraordinary power among vampires. I'm sure General Steward will explain the intricacies of that. Only the August line retains the original blessing from the moon goddess and is welcome at her temple. It is not a requirement, per se, but it does make the people feel better that we have not lost access to the goddess' temple."

Daphne considered her words, "Has anyone ever tried to go?"

"It's been lost to us," another general said. "Long ago. A queen of the August line was the last person to be there and it's said the location of the original temple is in their bloodline."

Daphne nodded. She had expected a reason that more closely resembled the werewolf's need to have Arthur on the line, but she was a bit grateful. It felt like a lot less pressure than Arthur went through.

The rest of breakfast didn't help her learn anything of use to her cause, but she learned a lot about the internal affairs of the vampires. Where the werewolves had been complacent since their last battle, the vampires had been rebuilding in quiet on the other side of the canyon that separated the werewolf and vampire lands.

The outpost that was in the neutral zone were remnants from the time long before the last war. After breakfast, Daphne left the table and headed towards her quarters. Nicole was held back by another general to discuss something regarding a far border.

"Your Majesty," John called, catching up to her. His gaze made her skin crawl a bit and apprehension fill her heart. "If I might escort you back to your wing?"

She eyed him, "Lord Whitcomb, thank you for your offer, but I would like a moment to myself. Surely, you can understand that?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," John said, "I must say that you are the spitting image of your mother... Beautiful and regal..."

Daphne eyed him as he smiled.

"I have to confess that I have become infatuated with you and would like to court you formally."

Her eyes widened and she took a step back. Her heart raced with fear.

"That will never happen," Daphne said. His smile faltered. "I love Arthur, and I fully intend to only be with him."

She gave him a tense smile, "If you'll excuse me, Lord Whitcomb."

She turned and tried to keep her steps even. Her stomach churned with anxiety. There was something in his eyes that put her on edge. It reminded her a bit of Owen.