"That was the forr king..." Luna insisted.
"Your Highness, I realize that werewolves do not like to share. It is a trait we vampires have marvelled at for ages. But this decision will cause an uprising."
"It will be as the throne says it will be." Damien’s voice cracked through the murmurs. His next words, however, carried a bite of mockery. "If anyone has a problem with that, they can make Isolde their concubine." Luna allowed the smallest flicker of a smirk to ghost across her lips.
The council bowed in acknowledgent.
"Isolde will be taken care of," Damien continued. "She will live like the mother of a prince, just not in the castle." His decree was both rciful and cruel.
Councilman Richard stepped forward with a bow. "Your Highness, would you want to continue to look in on her regularly, and to ensure her dical care in the anti?" Luna’s eyes narrowed subtly. Was Richard genuinely loyal, or simply hungry for leverage?
"Of course, Lord Richard. Thank you," Damien replied. He rose from his throne, then he extended his hand toward Luna.
Luna placed her hand in his. Together, they walked out of the council chambers, the doors slamming shut behind them.
And then the murmurs began, slithering through the chamber. They started as whispers but carried sharp edges, cutting into the silence left by the king and queen’s exit. "Who exactly is ruling us? Our king or his wife?" one lord muttered under his breath. "This is not how things should be done," another added. "He does whatever the queen says," ca the final, venomous remark.
Richard cleared his throat loudly. He stepped forward, his spine stiff. "I warn you to guard your tongues," he declared. His gaze swept across them, lingering on each pair of eyes that dared to look defiant. "The council is yet to recover from the last treachery." The lords bowed their heads, so begrudgingly, and began to file out of the chamber in a asured, ceremonial rhythm. Still, their footsteps carried discontent, and Richard knew what they muttered in their hearts was far louder than what they dared to speak.
*****
Isolde stood stiffly in front of William. She didn’t understand what he was saying, not really, though her heart pounded with the sense that whatever was being asked of her was far worse than she could imagine. "What is the point?" she asked finally.
William leaned back in his chair, legs spread. "I told you before," he said. "In the beginning of our alliance, I will ask you to do painful things, unbearable things, to get us closer to our goal." His hand lifted lazily, fingers drumming against the armrest.
"I understand that it gets you closer to your goal," Isolde snapped. "How does it get closer to my goal?" Her mind spun with doubts.
"If you play your cards right," William murmured, leaning forward now, his lips curving into a smirk that never reached his eyes, "the palace will offer you protection." He rose to his feet and circled her slowly. "If we show the council that you are not safe," he continued, "they will not listen to the queen’s promise to take care of your child."
"Fine. What is the first step?" Isolde asked.
"Inform the council that you are being threatened," William replied smoothly. "You will tell them that your house is constantly being watched by the queen’s n."
Isolde’s lips parted in a bitter smile. "That sounds believable enough. And?"
William leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Then you will be attacked, brutally, by Talon."
Her hands instinctively brushed her stomach. "Will my child be safe?"
"Of course," William said. "You have nothing to worry about." His grin stretched wider, predator-slick.
*****
Damien stood on the balcony, the cold night air ruffling his hair. This balcony—her balcony—where Luna loved to stand when the palace walls felt like a cage closing in. He finally understood why she lingered here so often. From this height, Blood Castles looked eternal, its four massive fortresses glinting under moonlight. Beyond them, the veins of Blood City stretched outward, a glittering web of life.
He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the cool chain of Isolde’s necklace. Since that night at her house—since that mistake he could not stop replaying—the necklace had been silent.
"Damien?" Luna’s voice drifted from behind him.
He turned.
"Are you alright?" she asked, stepping closer.
Damien sighed heavily, pressing the necklace deeper into his palm until the chain bit his skin. "We haven’t really had the opportunity to talk," he admitted. "But I have been thinking... a lot."
Luna ca to stand beside him at the railing. She looked out over the sa city.
"What’s going on?" Luna asked. The way she looked at him made his chest ache—eyes too perceptive, lips pressed tight, worry etched in her forehead.
Damien exhaled, feeling the weight of the chain in his hand. He held the necklace up between them. "Do you rember how Isolde got this?"
"Yeah. You said she told you Gabriel walked up to her, promising her that her life would change if she wore the necklace."
"No," Damien corrected softly. "She said ’a man’ walked up to her. We just filled in the blanks because at the ti, Gabriel was the villain in our story."
"What are you saying?" Luna shook her head, her hands tightening on the railing.
"I gave this to Morvakar," Damien admitted. "He said only he could have made this because it had his magical signature." His fingers tightened around the chain.
Luna drew in a sharp breath, shaking her head before he could continue. "We know Morvakar would do nothing of the sort. Which also brought the assumption that Gabriel was working with a sorcerer."
"Yes," Damien confird. "But he insisted, that even sorcerer apprentices do not have the sa magical signature as their teachers. He said it’s like DNA."
Luna’s eyes snapped back to him, searching his face. "Gabriel claid, right before you killed him, that Morvakar’s son was the one helping him."
(I apologise for the short break. My Webnovel editor gave a task for my other book that needed a couple of sleepless nights. The Vampire’s Luna is back on a steady.)
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