Page 54 of Of Shadows and Blood

“What?” I gasp.

“No.” He smirks. “Not like that. Trust me?”

The male stumbles around a large stump and I quickly nod my head. Cedric reaches for my hand, pulling me to him. Lazily, he throws an arm over my shoulder, his hand resting on it.

“State your business,” the male says as he approaches. I expect him to shirk under Cedric’s glare, his presence, his kingship, but the male simply does not show any sign he recognizes who he faces. The light barely gets through here, but he looks about middle-age and slightly drunk. His body is smaller in stature than Cedric’s, but I can tell he is also vampyr. My magic seems to respond in an odd way when I’m near one.

“We were drifting around Spring Lake and saw the smoke. We figured someone is celebrating or lighting the forest on fire,” Cedric answers, squeezing my shoulder. Realizing we’re playing a part, I lean into his touch awkwardly and smile.

The man huffs, folding his arms. He looks unfazed by Cedric’s attempt at a joke.

Cedric continues. “So, which is it? Party or pyro?”

I smile tightly, unsure what is expected of me in this situation. I’ve lied before. Some days I couldn’t tell the truth from the lies when I had to negotiate at the market. If life were easier for me when I was in my coma, perhaps my tongue would have lost its silver.

The revelry gatekeeper looks back and forth between Cedric and me. He turns from us and begins walking back to the cottage, no words given. Cedric and I look to each other.

Do we follow? Do we continue walking?

Do we apparate so we don’t get murdered?

The man stops and gestures with his arm to follow, not even looking back at us.

Again, we look to each other for support. I shrug, giggling at the situation. Cedric responds by taking the lead and begins to walk forward, tugging me with him.

“How did he not recognize you? And what are we doing?” I whisper from the side of my mouth. Cedric moves his hand from my arm. I slacken my shoulders, feeling my breath come back since I lost it back there.

His hand finds mine again and I suck in a breath. The touch alone sends shivers down my spine. The amount of touching is completely unexpected and nearly too comfortable.

“Not everyone has seen my portrait when they send it around the continent. Plus, I have been away or secluded most of my life. It was a longshot so, I say, let’s be normal. I want to see how my people live. And honestly, we both could live a little, too.” Cedric loosens his grip on my hand but still holds it well enough.

He asked for permission.

“They won’t know who you are?” I ask, imagining the scenario. He’s their king, how would they not notice him?

“Let’s hope not. My portrait made its way around from my youth but it has been years. I hope I look a little better now.”

The man opens a gate, leading us into the back courtyard of the cottage. I latch it shut before letting Cedric pull me forward. The light brightens as we turn the corner.

A medium-sized crowd is gathered, mingling as if all great friends. To the side, a small quartet of musicians strum through notes, caught in their own sounds. Perhaps a wedding.

To my left, a door to the cottage opens, a few men and women filing out. The women hold each other’s hands and when the men come out, they too hold steadfast as one leads the other into the crowd. Firepits are spread throughout the yard, drawing small groups of people over.

The air is scented with mead, wine and blood. Of course it would be, but my stomach pangs with hunger.

The man stops and turns to us, folding his arms again. In the light, he looks as old as Ma, hair mostly gone grey.

“Hope you like mead,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Nephew just had his Bloodrite, if you’re wondering.”

Cedric steps forward and claps the man on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Cedric says as we walk into the crowd. I slide my body past women and men who are aimlessly dancing around each other. We move into the middle of the crowd, Cedric turning to say something. This close to him, our chests inches apart, it feels intimate.

“Isn’t this exciting?” He has a boyish grin on his face, his eyes jumping from person to person. Is he truly that awestruck by peasants?

Someone bumps into my back, pushing me forward and into Cedric. We both lean, nearly bumping someone else. Busy with observing the crowd’s movement, I can feel Cedric’s stare. Not see, feel. I look up and Cedric grins, swaying his hips.

“Dancing?” I ask, now watching him sway towards me, his tempo matching the crowd and the music.