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So… it really doesn’t hurt, then? I’ve read such a thing, but it’s hard to believe.
He leaned forward, his brow furrowed more than usual. “There is a pinprick of pain in the begi
How common is that, exactly? I wouldn’t say there were many married vampire-human couples in Argent, despite the blood shops.
Bane shook his head, flexing his clawed finger as he thought. “Marriage? No. You have to be quite sure of the commitment to share blood in such a way, as the chosen human will live so long as they take blood from their vampire lover, and a vampire will only share their blood out in the case of such devotion. But for those who are simply lovers, the vampire’s thirst will be slaked, and the human will receive ecstatic sex in exchange. That is quite common now. It’s how most of my knights feed—quite a few have lovers throughout the Rift.”
The hated flush crept into my cheeks at the thought, especially since I hadn’t forgotten the feeling of Bane waking up curled around me in bed, and the thought of his body hadn’t been far from my thoughts all day.
I realized Bane was watching me, his amber eyes pensive.
“Cirri, if I still had my old face…” He touched his own face, his claws against a protruding cheekbone. “If I were still that man, would you have feared my bite so much? Or would that face, that form, have made it easier?”
I didn’t hesitate before writing. The thought of any vampire biting me frightens me. I’m afraid you’ll lose control. Even if you looked like that, it would’ve changed nothing. It was too soon for me to try, when I’ve spent a lifetime among people who hate your kind, and growing up, I was fed nothing but horror stories about your people. There is no amount of beauty that can change that fear.
He leaned back, a neutral expression carefully in place. I couldn’t tell if he felt better or worse for my answer, but either way, it was the truth.
And with the truth, that conversation ended.
“Are you finished?” he asked abruptly. “I should take you to Wyn.”
I nodded, feeling like I’d ruined a perfectly good moment, and packed my journal and pen away. One of the keep servants slid past us unobtrusively, packing up the tableware I’d left behind—it made me feel a little guilty to see someone else picking up my mess.
But Bane had taken my hand, and as he guided me to a corner of the keep I hadn’t yet seen, new scents met my nose: the omnipresent tang of blood, but also herbs and smoke and spices.
“This is the Tower of Autumn, where Wyn and Visca live. You are never to enter if she’s not here, understand?” He took a breath when I looked up at him. “I don’t mean to condescend to you as though you’re a child, but there are things here that are dangerous to all of us. Things that should never see the light of day. Nobody is permitted in this tower without Wyn’s presence, not even me.”
Now I’m not so sure I want to go in, I signed. Maybe we should just go to bed?
He knocked on the door, and Wyn opened it, her eyes gleaming with a fervor so intense I wondered if I’d spend the next hour looking over lists with her.
“Oh, lovely, she’s here.” Wyn beckoned me in, and shooed Bane away. “You go on. I’ll send her to you when I’m done.”
I looked back at Bane, silently begging him with my eyes to save me, but Wyn shut the door on him and hustled me into a chaos of desks and tables and arcane alchemical equipment. I was suddenly more conscious of my elbows than I’d ever been in my life.
“I’m working on something that requires another donation of blood. I’ll need… oh, about as much as we required for the ritual of the vows. Come here.”
She brought me to a desk covered with clean cloth, laid out with an iron vessel and another one of those leaf-shaped blades, polished to perfection.
With an internal sigh, I held out my arm and signed with the other. What is this for?
“I will suppose that you asked me the particulars of this donation, and I shall tell you… absolutely nothing.” Wyn gripped my hand gently, aligning the blade at my wrist. “I haven’t the faintest idea if this will even work. I’m stretching my arts and knowledge to their absolute limits, which is very exciting, but also…”
Also what?
The knife bit into my wrist, and I winced as Wyn turned my arm over, massaging it to increase the blood flow into the vessel.
“Well, it may end in death and tragedy, but there’s a price to be paid for knowledge,” she said cheerfully.
I wondered if she was entirely sane, or if years of living in the Below had given her a rather warped view of things.
It took several minutes to collect the blood she wanted—at least twice what I’d given for the vows—before she pressed a healing cloth to the wound and instructed me to hold it there.
She covered the vessel with a length of white silk, then leaned on the table and eyed me beadily. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to speak about to you.”
I tilted my head in query; my wrist still stung too much to move that hand.
“You are starving Bane.”
An accusing silence fell between us. Wyn didn’t blink even once, keeping her gaze fixed evenly on me.
I tried to sign, but she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear excuses. You made the vows to offer your blood as his, and you are starving him. He is living on the blood of murderers and rapists—a Lord, polluting his body with that filth, because you are starving him.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I tried to swallow it down; wasn’t I spending enough hours of the day wallowing in my own guilt, knowing I was denying him the blood I’d promised him and unable to shake my terror of it?
When he’d painted the picture of it for me, he’d somehow made it seem so distant; drinking from those who were convicts, prisoners… but hearing Wyn state it so baldly made it a thousand times worse.
He drank from rapists. From murderers. Not from someone who offered their blood with love.
No wonder he hadn’t wanted to speak of it to me.
“I’m not going to rail at you and demand to know why,” Wyn said. She tucked a lock of silver-and-blonde hair behind her ear, straightening up and taking a deep breath. “As I said, I don’t want to hear excuses or reasons. But I do want you to know what is happening—that he is slowly starving, because the ancestors know that he despises drinking from the veins of such foulness. And you should understand that if this should continue, whatever respect you have now from our people will fade into dust. You will be considered a ball and chain around his ankle, and your death and the subsequent choosing of a new bride will be a cause for great celebration.”
Something stung in my eyes; I blinked hard, trying to get it out. Maybe some dust, or an eyelash, but certainly not tears at the fact that I was a burden on Bane’s life.
“I’ve told you before that I like you, Cirrien, and that remains true,” she said gently. “But to a vampire, this is a grave insult. They won’t care that you were chosen by the whims of fate, or that you didn’t ask for this; they will only care that you made your vows to him and failed to uphold them. I know it’s not fair.”
Life isn’t fair, I signed, letting the bandage slip away. I’d rather feel pain; I thought I might deserve it a little.
“If you want to avoid being hated, and merely tolerated because you’re a requirement, I would suggest trying a little harder. We love him, but we hardly know you. And right now… when we look at you, we see a fiend in constant pain from his thirst, and a woman who has no marks on her.” She closed her eyes. “I once offered to find him a new lover if you could not handle the reality of your new life. If he continues to starve, to live in the agony of constant thirst, I will renew that offer. You will be the Lady of the Rift in name only, but his devotion will never be yours.”
By the Light, my throat ached; with unshed tears and words I couldn’t speak to defend myself. But how could I defend myself? She wasn’t wrong.
The vampires would see me as a leech, maybe even worse than one: I lived in luxury now, had been given everything my heart desired, and… I couldn’t even try to share my blood.
“I’m always the one lecturing you, aren’t I?” she asked with a wry smile. “Visca tells me to let it go—that you two will find your own way, or you won’t. But I’m not the kind of person who can just let things be. If you hate me for this, I’ll accept that, but I can’t let this continue without a warning.”
I nodded, still trying to swallow past that lump in my throat. It was fairly done.
She led me to the door and opened it. “I’m sorry, Cirrien, but if it’s hatred, you must find a way to let it go. If it’s disgust, you must find a way to reject it. And if it’s fear, you must find a way to overcome it. If there’s one thing I can promise, it’s this: Bane will never harm you.”
I nodded, and stepped into the hall with my head down. My own shame didn’t allow me to meet her eyes.
Without waiting for another word, I strode down the corridor, wanting to be alone with my own thoughts.
I couldn’t imagine hating Bane, nor even being disgusted by him, but… the fear I felt near his teeth was so overwhelming. How the hell was I supposed to overcome that stark, shrieking terror?
Most of all, I felt terrible guilt. Bane had gone out of his way to welcome me, to understand me, to give me a new purpose, and what had I done for him?
Nothing.
I slowed as I approached the Tower of Winter, and took the bandage from my wrist. The cut Wyn had made was now a pale pink, scar-like mark.
The knife had been as sharp as Bane’s teeth. Surely it wasn’t so much different.
Just… like many knives. All at once.
In my throat.
I shivered, my arms and back prickling with goosebumps, and shook that thought away. He was terrible to behold, but gentle and kind. He would never hurt me deliberately.
I tucked the bandage in a pocket in my dress, and steeled myself. I didn’t give a damn about the luxury, or the maids, or the pretty dresses. I cared only about Bane himself, and between the lines Wyn had made it clear—I wasn’t just starving him, I was making him feel worthless and unwanted.
That was the last thing I wanted to do to him.
So, to steel my nerves, I recounted my accomplishments. I had worked my fingers to the bone and sold years of my life to achieve things the Sisters hadn’t thought possible of me, but by the Light, I had done it anyway.
And if I could do that, then I could master my fear.
I could be what Bane deserved.