A vow of blood and tears

Chapter 25 Cirri

As always, I was a little taken aback at how wrong my expectations had been when it came to the vampires.

I had fully expected to fear Wroth, to shiver with curdled terror at the sight of him—but how could I be afraid of someone who was so obviously broken?

His leonine features, as monstrous in their own way as Bane’s bat-like visage, with his curling horns, digitigrade feet, and lashing tail—they were hideous and strange, but the deep pain and bitterness in his eyes… those emotions turned him from something to be feared, into someone in need.

And Kajarin… I’d thought I would find common ground of some sort, both of us being women forced into marriages we never could have foreseen, marriages to monsters. I’d had it in my mind that perhaps Kajarin was terrified of Wroth, that maybe with a little time she could come to see that a fiend wasn’t so bad.

I hadn’t expected a woman dressed like the harlots in the Argent slums, albeit one wearing a lifetime’s ransom of gems. Nor one who would ignore her own husband so readily in favor of trying to bed mine, though I hadn’t missed the curl of disgust in her lip as she looked at Bane.

Clearly there was nothing we had in common outside of our roles in life, and Kajarin was not the unsearched-for friend I’d hoped to find.

But there was nothing I could do, outside of sending her off in the most embarrassing ma

Bane curled his hand around mine, and I squeezed one of his fingers lightly despite my anger.

“Well,” Auré said bracingly. She hadn’t taken so much as a sip from her glass, tracing her pinky around the rim over and over until I thought I might scream. “How are things here, Bane? Letters only tell us so much, and frankly, you could stand to write more.”

My husband cleared his throat, still clearly shocked by the realization of what Kajarin had been trying to do. “Everything is fine. We’ve reopened the mines, so we can begin shoring up the defenses. Some progress has finally been made with the Rift-kin, so we’ll have less wastage…”

“Yes, yes.” Auré waved a graceful hand. “We’ve heard this. What I meant was, how are things here?” And she gave me a significant look, as though I were not sitting right here to see it.

The seething anger rippled upwards again, and I had to forcibly suppress it. My appetite, diminished by Kajarin, was all but gone now. I laid the fork aside carefully, giving Auré the sweetest smile I could manage; if Wyn thought she’d be installing this vampire in my place, they could both go to hell.

I knew that I would have to manage myself around vampires. On one hand, I didn’t want to overtly display heightened emotions, which Visca had told me would trigger hunting instincts; on the other hand, I needed to behave properly so as not to embarrass either myself or the hold I represented.

But to be treated like a lapdog that couldn’t understand that it was being talked about… I gritted my teeth together, keeping the smile in place.

Bane glanced at me, his brow furrowed with confusion, then smiled widely. “Wonderful. Things are wonderful.”

Wroth and Auré shared a skeptical glance so quick, so sly, that I almost missed it.

“I’m glad to hear that.” The vampire woman spoke carefully, as though to a simple child. Did she not believe him?

Bane looked between the two of them, the furrow returning. “Why—”

“It’s been a long time,” Auré said softly, and she reached across the table to touch Bane’s free hand. “A long, long time since we’ve seen you. Ten years since we’ve all been together. I truly am happy to see you well, Bane, and if anything is wrong… I hope that you still trust us enough to help you.”

She removed her hand in time, because the fork was in easy reach, and I’d contemplated with no small amount of gravity the force it would take to pierce vampire flesh.

Probably more than I possessed. I was no warrior or fighter like the Silver Sisters, but I imagined that sheer irritation would carry me through.

“Nothing is wrong,” Bane replied, the faintest hint of a growl to his tone. “Exactly what are you insinuating, Auré?”

Her violet eyes widened. “Only that we’re here for you, as well as Andrus and Voryan. It’s a lonely place, to be a fiend holding a seat against the Forians and… other hostiles.”

Bane tipped his head, studying the lovely vampire. “I will be the judge of the hostiles here. You are acting as the Lord’s advisor in Owlhorn, correct? Then you may advise Wroth, and leave me to Wyn.”

Wyn poked at her roast hen, staying well out of this.

Auré leaned back in her chair, studying him through narrowed eyes. “You’ve grown more comfortable in your position, Lord Bane. There was a time you would have hung on my every word, afraid to make a misstep.”

Despite my anger at Auré, there was an undercurrent here I couldn’t read, a history I didn’t know. And in that history, perhaps there was a buried seed of a shared past…

I hated my own jealousy, but I was powerless to rip out the green serpent writhing through my guts. I had known of Bane in name only; to an indentured servant of the Sisters, he was both enemy and ally, a nearly mythical figure that protected us, yet came from the ranks of our sworn foes.

There had been no past, no commonality between us, unlike him and Auré. For all I knew, he had wanted her at one time, and instead he’d had me thrown into his life for the sole purpose of meeting a political requirement.

“There was a time when I was young and had no idea what I was doing,” Bane said, squeezing my hand under the table. “That time is no longer. Have you come merely to rub my face in the past?”

Auré shook her head, leaning towards him, eyes pleading. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Bane. Have we not been friends for decades? I’m here to provide whatever aid I can—that’s all.”

My husband looked at her mistrustfully. “As I said, I have no need of any outside help. The Rift is hard at work on what we must do, and Wyn and Visca are, as always, admirable at handling the defenses. Cirri is making herself at home. Ravenscry does not need aid.”

She reached for him again, and I put a stop to that even as Bane leaned back, removing his hand from the table.

Why not ask him outright? I asked her, disentangling my hand from Bane’s to sign. Ask him what you’re really thinking. Am I like Kajarin? Do I while away the hours of my day debating how best to destroy his soul?

Auré’s smile showed more fang than was strictly necessary. “Do you?” she asked softly.

Look at him and tell me. What do you see? 

The vampire woman’s eyes flicked between us, then she signed back, her hands so much more graceful than mine: Wroth looked happy for the first year—and see him now. 

The lion-like fiend wasn’t scowling, wasn’t smiling, had no expression at all—he stared at the wall behind me and Bane, but his eyes were far away.

That problem lies with Kajarin, not with me, I said. Find a new bride for Wroth if she’s so terrible. 

Auré sneered, and I became vaguely aware of everyone watching our silent, if vociferous, conversation. Bane was half out of his seat, as though to get between us, but he was frozen, watching our hands with rapt concentration. We were moving too fast for anyone unversed in the priests’ tongue to understand with any clarity.

As though pureblood women of your kind grow on trees, she said, snapping her movements out. Your people made that demand specifically to hinder us, hoping to return power to the humans, and now you’ve saddled our heroes with lying whores and weeping invalids. Now we must tiptoe around your lot, satisfying your lusts for more, more gold, more jewels, more men—while the fiends who sacrificed their lives for us are drained of all they were.

I stood up abruptly, my heart hammering against my breastbone. You make many assumptions. I’d think someone of your age and experience would know better. Do I seem like a whore to you? Has Bane drained his treasury to drape me with jewels? I think not. Am I weeping now? Am I lying in a tower, lost in poppy dreams? Try using your own eyes, Lady Auré. 

She stood as well, the two of us facing off with a di

I couldn’t help but silently laugh. I had expected to fend off advances on my blood, not my character.

As always… my expectations had been wrong.

Look at you, calling me a ‘hostile’, as though you know me at all. As of this moment, the only hostility I feel is for you. I didn’t ask for this, but Ravenscry is my home now. You walked in here and immediately decided I was a threat to Bane—if you believe so, then tell him outright. Stop straddling the hedge and say what you mean. 

Auré’s lips flattened as I spoke, her own hands fisted.

But you won’t, will you? I added. You know there’s a chance you’re wrong. Even more, I think it upsets you that he no longer clings to your every word. So now you’ll use Kajarin as an excuse to take it out on me. 

Her eyes were blazing, fangs pressing into her lower lip. We’ve known each other for longer than you’ve been alive. We fought together. I’ve seen three of my oldest, closest friends die a slow death of the mind to the terrible women your people chose—I won’t allow all four of them to live in misery. 

I raised my hands, ready to respond in kind even as I longed to strangle her—but Bane stood, towering behind me, taking one of my hands in his. “Cirri. I think I’ve understood enough.”

Auré’s furious features went limpid as soon as she looked at Bane, and I bit down on my tongue, fighting the urge to bare my teeth at her—a sure invitation for a fight, according to the cultural lessons.

“Auré…” Bane took a breath. “Wroth. You are indeed two of my oldest friends, but my hospitality only extends so far. This is your last warning. Treat my wife with respect, or the Rift will be barred to you.”

Wroth, who had stared at the wall through our silent argument, let out a rusty chuckle.

Auré put a hand to her chest, as though pierced with an arrow. “Bane… I didn’t intend…”

“Come to bed, Cirri,” my husband murmured to me. “I want to speak with you alone.”

I didn’t look behind me as we left; I heard whispers between Wyn and Auré, and decided to leave well enough alone.

It had been a while since I felt alone in Ravenscry. The feeling was cold and unwelcome, and I wondered if I had embarrassed Bane with my behavior.