Page 45 of His Realm

“I get that a lot,” I teased her.

The queen walked the king into his bedroom and closed the door behind them. We were still in his chambers because that was what he wanted, but now the three of us were sitting on the large balcony, with the cool sea air ruffling curtains and Sabira’s long, thick gray-and-platinum hair. Her eyes were midnight blue, and they flashed like moonstone when she laughed. Her skin was smooth for as ancient as she was, flawless alabaster. Sabira exuded stateliness, unlike her sister, Isabella, who, when not dressed in her queenly robes, resembled a bohemian goddess.

I was about to ask my question of Sabira again, about Zev, when he spoke.

“I was telling Jason earlier my theory that his power—not his barrier, but his ability to instill peace in others—works only on newer vampyrs, not the ancients he currently finds himself surrounded by.”

“Barrier?” she asked.

“First, his calming power,” he insisted, pinning Sabira with his gaze.

She looked at me and smiled. “I was not aware that you were a magic user like myself and my sisters. How marvelous.”

I had to correct that. “I’m not magic.”

“What would you call it, then?”

What would I call my barrier? “I have no idea, that’s what I need to figure out.”

“Well, I myself have abilities, as does Isabella, but you’re very young, so it follows that your gifts work only upon those equal to or less in years than yourself.”

“Exactly,” Zev concurred.

“I believe there are tomes and scrolls and such in the hypogeum. Perhaps you can read up on these things.”

I had already made plans with Zev. “Why do some older vampyrs use contractions, like you, and others don’t?”

“I think it goes to how much time one spends in the outside world,” she explained. “Varic would have to, and though his rajan and the rekkr accompany him, they don’t converse with humans or younger vampyrs.”

“And you do?”

“Oh yes, darling. I live in a château filled with artists, much like Isabella’s little island. But whereas hers is populated only by vampyrs, on mine vampyrs and humans coexist.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I adore humans. They have a vitality we do not. Most of the ones I’ve met don’t take time for granted.”

“What kind of artists live with you?”

“Glassmakers, tattoo artists, dancers, musicians, sculptors, painters, tarot card readers,” she said, grinning at me. “I have them all. And of course, when Nerilla passed, I was the one to take over her foundation. That was in her will—that I keep it running, and of course I will.”

“I didn’t know that,” I whispered. I felt terrible that I’d forgotten about Nerilla’s foundation, especially as it did so much for others. It provided funds and goods for women in third-world countries to start their own businesses. Such important work that I’d let fall by the wayside while grieving her.

“It was not for you to concern yourself with,” she assured me, taking my hand in hers. “You are cadeyrn of the king. I can’t imagine all the many things you have on your plate.”

I nodded.

“But back to your powers, it will be interesting for you to find the source.”

“Varic said it has something to do with me being a matan.”

“It probably does. I have to say, it sounds like you’ll be spending many hours in the hypogeum unraveling that mystery.”

“You don’t know any other vampyrs with magical abilities?”

“Only my sisters and other druids like Emil,” she explained. “But really, I haven’t been everywhere. There are probably others out there, but that’s not for me to speculate on.”

I loved listening to her, and to Varic’s mother, and even to the king in those times when he would educate me on being a vampyr. It was fascinating.