Page 58 of Their Blood Queen
Beatrix rummages through a jewelry box as she directs her conversation to me. “Duchess Rinhold told us to make sure you were fashionably late for the fête, but that’s because she doesn’t want you to make a grand entrance,” she informs me with a click of her tongue. “Can’t have you stealing her husband’s thunder with the selections he’s made this year.” She frowns at various pairs of earrings while she takes turns holding each pair to my head. “But Earl Rinhold told us to have you ready promptly.” She gives me a wink. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear the Duchess. She refuses to give me any anti-aging elixirs, so my hearing could be going bad, hmm?”
“Does the Duchess not want me here?” I ask honestly.
If Beatrix is surprised by my frankness, she doesn’t show it. “Of course she does. She’s the one who pushed so hard for a blood contract in the first place. But your ultimate role here seems to be up for debate. I suspect the role Duchess Rinhold imagines for you is quite different from what the young master has planned.”
“Young master?” I ask.
I glance at Julie, who adds, “Earl Rinhold, she means.”
Beatrix sighs when she seems satisfied about her choice of earrings. She selected a dangling pair of rubies and silver chains that complements my complexion. As she loops them into place, she gives out instructions without looking up. “Julie, can you grab the flourish tonics, please? The red and black lace and jewels set. That’ll go with this.”
Julie hurries and collects the indicated potions. She takes a dropper and covers me with it, hitting my shoulder, my hairline, and my arms.
Magic seeps into my skin and bright red locks, and gems appear out of thin air as they loop and twine through various parts of my outfit.
I might have lived in the Magic Sector for the past two years, but I have not actually partaken in the luxuries offered in this segment of the Elite City. As I touch the jewels in my perfectly styled hair, I hardly recognize the woman who stares back at me.
The tonics have taken away shadows I hadn’t even realized were there. My eyes seem brighter and boast a new shade of silver. My cheeks, once pale and lackluster, now look as if I’ve pinched rosy hues back into them. Even my lips are plump and a shade of red that matches the rubies in my hair.
I don’t look like Lady Nightingale anymore. The drab Lady of a dying house is gone and now replaced with someone new.
Lady Rinhold, I say in my mind as I test the name.
The mark above my navel spears me with cold pain, making me wince. I haven’t been given a chance to see my skin to confirm anything is actually there, but I certainly feel it.
Just because something feels real doesn’t mean it is.
“My lady?” Julie shyly asks. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I say, giving her a forced smile. “Just tired.”
The young girl rummages through what looks to be a medicinal box, then presents a bottle with a crystal top and smiles at me. “For energy,” she offers.
My eyes widen when I recognize the tonic. It’s not an anti-aging elixir, but it’s nearly as expensive.
“No, thank you,” I say.
She shrugs as if she hadn’t just offered me something I could never afford and puts it back into the box.
I am fairly certain she just presented me with a dream inhibitor. For some reason, the idea of not needing sleep for the next four-and-twenty hours doesn’t appeal to me.
And neither does the prospect of avoiding whatever might be lurking in my dreams.
Slut.
Whore.
My brother’s words rush over me, and I straighten and stare at myself in the mirror as I push them out.
My figment had said I wasn’t any of those things.
He had also said I was his, which I’m not.
I can’t be.
Can I? Can I not have a little fun in a pretend world of dreams that isn’t real?
Maybe I’m foolish. Maybe I just want something that belongs to no one else and only to me.