Page 25 of Dhampira

At last, Lorcan lifted his head. Dark eyes met mine, and I caught my breath as menace rolled off the prince. There was no other word for it. He radiated danger—and he absolutely did not like me. I’d encountered enough animosity in Derryton to know when someone resented my presence.

“Yes,” he said, his voice as smooth as his flawless face. “Quite lovely.”

Words stuck in my throat as the prince’s dislike curled around me. If he wasn’t my brother, then who was he? Had I usurped his position in some way? I forced myself to hold his stare, which required me to tip up my chin slightly. Although shorter and slighter than Vander, Prince Lorcan was still a big man. Broad shoulders stretched the black fabric of his coat, which hugged a trim waist before descending to the tops of powerful thighs.

And I had no business assessing his body like a housewife at a butcher’s stall on market day. Before I could reply, Lorcan looked at a spot over my shoulder.

“I trust your journey from Ghedda was uneventful?”

Vander’s deep voice echoed behind me. “The roads were clear, Your Highness. We encountered no trouble.”

The lie turned me around, my gaze landing on Vander. He stood just inside the doorway, his back straight and his hand resting on his sword’s pommel. For the briefest second, his silver eyes met mine. Then he pinned his gaze on some indistinct point in the distance, his posture that of a sentry’s.

My heart thumped faster, and my mind spun with visions of him plunging his sword into the werewolf’s neck. The attack in the clearing had been anything but “uneventful.”

Lorcan made a low sound of approval. “I’m relieved to hear it, Captain.”

Captain?

“It’s always a happy occasion when you manage to discharge your duties without incident,” Lorcan added.

Vander stiffened. Tension filled the air, a line of it pulling taut between the men.

Rasimir’s laugh broke it. “Now, now, my prince, there’s no need for enmity.” He touched my shoulder, pulling my attention back to him. “Come, Corinthe, I would speak with you alone before the servants bring refreshments.” He proffered his arm, an expectant look on his face.

Protest was out of the question. I was a guest—a princess if I believed the man who claimed to be my father. And hadn’t I spent a lifetime wondering about him? This was my chance to learn. Still, my heart continued its runaway pace as I took Rasimir’s arm. With Prince Lorcan’s gaze burning a hole in my back, I let the king guide me to the other side of the room.

He opened a pair of glass doors I’d mistaken for a window and then ushered me onto a large balcony.

“Look,” he said, beckoning me to the stone railing. “All of Nocta greets you.”

I stepped forward, and my breath caught as I surveyed the land below. The Drakhold perched on the edge of a tall cliff that overlooked a vast mountain valley. Far on the other side, another craggy cliff was bordered by a lush, green forest of trees so tall their peaks were wreathed with pink clouds. A sparkling river wound through the valley, the water so distant it appeared no wider than a strand of hair.

And everywhere, the twilight kingdom sparkled. But it wasn’t a human twilight. Here, the sun warmed without burning, its rays stretching across a pink-and-orange sky. The heady perfume I’d scented on the rise with Vander was thicker now, the aroma so pleasant I wanted to gulp it by the lungful. As I gazed over the valley, the wind picked up, the breeze like the tinkling notes of a harp. Somehow, I knew without asking that the music emanated from the land itself.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Even more so than I first thought.”

Rasimir looked at me, and his green eyes held the weight of age once more. “It can be lonely.” As I searched for an appropriate response, he ran his gaze over my dress. “I wondered if Lilawen might pass my gift on to you.”

My heart thumped harder, and I couldn’t stop myself from touching the gown’s thick brown skirt. “My mother never spoke of you until recently. She claimed you were a nobleman.” I lifted my head. “But I should have guessed the truth. Only a king could afford a dragonstone dress.”

My father smiled. “A priceless gift for a once-in-a-lifetime love.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes. Deeply.” He sighed, his chest lifting. “But Lilawen and I came from different worlds. She appeared out of the blue one day, lost and frightened. She would never talk of where she came from, but I have my spies, as every king must.”

Curiosity bloomed within me, information a tantalizing prize I couldn’t help but grasp at. “She said you hunted her.”

Rasimir huffed, the sound so humanlike he looked like a young, handsome man again instead of an ancient king. “She trespassed in my kingdom.” He nodded toward the forest on the other side of the valley. “And better I hunt her than one of the creatures who inhabit those woods. Nocta is no place for a human, let alone a young woman on her own. Lilawen was fortunate I found her. And if she led you to believe she was innocent of the crimes that drove her across the Feyline, I fear you were taken in just as easily as I was.”

Dissent stiffened my spine. “My mother was wrongfully accused.”

Something shrewd shimmered in Rasimir’s eyes. “I’ve been a king for a long time, Corinthe. And I’ve adjudicated the trials of countless criminals over the years. Some of the finest actors are found at the end of a hangman’s noose.” He tilted his head. “Your mother lied to you about me, did she not? What makes you think she told the truth about being a thief?”

My nape heated. Was he right about Mama? I couldn’t deny his point. She’d kept Rasimir’s identity from me. I was a princess, but she raised me in Derryton, where I might have married Duncan Bagley and lived out my days fetching preserves for his mother’s cakes.

But my mother loved me. Even with Rasimir’s words ringing in my head, I knew her love was real. Maybe Rasimir was right. Maybe Mama was a thief. But like most thieves, she understood the value of rare, powerful things.