Page 3 of Their Blood Queen
I don’t want to do this, his eyes seem to say. But you’ll thank me when we make it to the Immorality Sector.
When I save your mother from this illness, every dark deed will be repaid in all the good I can do.
What good will there be if my father loses his soul to this damn plight?
Will my mother even want to survive when she finds out I’ve been left behind with a family like the Rinholds?
The villages fear the monsters, and the Elites do, too.
But I fear men most of all.
Especially a man like Earl Rinhold.
I can’t quite hear my father’s thoughts, but his intentions are as clear to me as if I had.
The truth is outlined in every part of him.
The recently cleaned pocket watch.
The new golden cuff links to match.
He’s not my father right now.
He’s Duke Nightingale, who has just been given an offer he can’t refuse. And with my wicked brother in his ear, he’s beyond the point of reasoning with.
He must see the determination lining my face, because he plucks out his pocket watch and clicks his tongue.
“We have five-and-ten minutes until midnight, Scarlett. Whatever arguments you have, be quick about it.”
My brother rises to his feet with a sigh and pockets his coin, one of the few valuables we have left that he refuses to part with. Usually, he stays in father’s shadow, but tonight Duke Nightingale seems to be wearing his mask.
And that means Earl Nightingale gets to teach me my place.
I’m not a Duchess. Both my father and my brother would have to die for me to take over on my own. Since they are both very alive and capable, I’m simply the daughter of an Elite, Lady Nightingale. That gives me certain privileges. But when it comes to the matter of alliances, dowries are taken very seriously.
And in my case, this is a reverse dowry.
A bride price.
And a substantial one at that. Even if I don’t fully comprehend all the terms, I can see the look on my father’s face that it could change everything.
My lip starts quivering again, and I take a deep breath—at least, I try to. The corset I’ve been tied up in for tonight’s events has me wishing I had been born with fewer ribs.
My brother doesn’t have any problems breathing, mostly because he’s wearing his traditional Earl apparel that includes a frilly undershirt tucked beneath a fitted—but not tight—embroidered vest. He dresses the part, topping off his look with long, polished boots with golden buttons that match my father’s vest.
He kneels down on one knee, putting himself at eye level with me in my seated position. Every presentation of his posture and his expression demonstrates care and empathy, but I’ve always been able to see through the mask.
He’s about to infuriate me.
“Aren’t you excited, dear sister?” he asks with a charming smile that shows his stupid dimples.
Gently, I remove my teeth from my throbbing lip, ignoring the tang of blood that’s on my tongue. “M-mother wouldn’t approve of a Rinhold alliance, not when—” I begin, but the crack across my face shocks me into silence.
I stare at the floor for a moment, stunned, trying to process what just happened.
Did Laurence just strike me?
My brother has never laid a hand on me. My father wouldn’t have allowed it, but when I glance up at him, I still see Duke Nightingale looking back at me.