It was an immediate struggle to keep the wonder off of my face. Even in the middle of the night, Lonest sparkled and gleamed.

Lonest was made of pristine, cut stone and glinting, silver metal. The buildings were abstract, compared to Reddon and Silbath. They reached high in the sky with long, sharp metal sticking from the points of their roofs.

I took in as much as I could, my attention snagging on every detail that stuck out to me.

The road was made of white stone, bordered on the sides in red. The surface was cleanly cut, creating an even, flat road. I wondered if they’d painted the roads to get these colors; they were unlike anything I’d seen before.

The city was as bright as day with how many lights lined the pathways, even some down alleyways. People milled about comfortably, some in groups while others alone. They were casual, no hurry to their step even as they crossed the road in front of us.

I knew Lothaire was watching me intently. I wouldn’t allow another slip up, and he could stare for as long as he wanted. He would get nothing.

Truthfully, Lonest was a child’s dream come true. Except it was far more than what my simple mind could have comprehended. Even up until a month ago, I would’ve never pictured anything like Lonest.

I guess I’d pictured Reddon, on a larger scale.

I felt a sting of jealousy as I watched Lonest’s residents. They were so happy, each and every one I saw. Nothing lurked in the shadows to hunt them down. No God loomed in their background, no clock to count down their days.

It almost made me angry to see them so carefree, but it upset me more that it had affected me. They were simply luckier than I’d been, and I couldn’t dwell on that.

They dressed more elaborately than the favored of Reddon. Long skirts trailed behind the dresses of women, their clothes made of rich, vivid colors. Tight corsets bound their torsos, exposed with lacing down the front. Some wore hats with frilly lace around its border.

The men were just as elaborate as their women. Their pants were loose down the entire leg, their tunics long and flowing, reaching to the upper thigh. Some were embroidered around the neck with a chestpiece of gold, sparkling gems set into the cloth amidst the pattern. Others had chosen to line the borders of their tunics and vests with a smaller, similar pattern of gold.

I noticed that the men tended to match the color the woman at their side wore, while singles wore whatever colors they wished. Ascelin, it was hard not to hate them.

I couldn’t allow that anger to fester into something more. Taking my attention off of the people, I focused on anything else. The flickering fires encased in glass and metal were first to catch my eye, but then it was the low, humming music coming from somewhere far. It was composed of sounds I’d never heard before, likely from instruments I’d never seen. It called to me in bittersweet notes, reminding me of my youth.

“Marie’s Revenge,” Lothaire said suddenly, breaking my trance. Listening to the music, I’d been fixated on the walls that had formed alongside the road as it began to narrow between buildings. Drawings had been etched into the smooth stone, telling a story. They showed a soldier rising from a great flame, sword drawn and poised to slay a formless, black monster. I was looking for the next etching when Lothaire had interrupted me.

“What?” I asked him, feeling as though I hadn’t heard him right.

“The castle,” he said, gesturing forward with a quick nod of his head. “It’s called Marie’s Revenge,” he repeated the name. I hadn’t noticed the castle yet, but as soon as I looked up, it was impossible not to.

It’d been hidden before, behind the spiraling reaches of the city. It took up nearly a quarter of Lonest. The castle reached just below the top of the wall, perfectly hiding it from view. Grand windows reached from ground level to the top, frosted yet clear enough to see through. Gold bordered each window and rounded, pointed roof. It almost looked like gold had also been used between each stone that composed the castle.

The stone was as white as the pathways, but polished to reflect just as much light as its glass and stone counterparts. Tonight, it shone with blue hues of the storm, and the moon that lurked behind heavy clouds. I could only imagine what it looked like under sunlight.

It was beautiful in a haunted, chilling way. I felt a heaviness over my heart as I stared at it, as if the castle had an aura, a presence to touch me with. “Why is it called that?”

Lothaire laughed, genuine and hearty. “You all ask that.” Some people glanced at us as we passed by them, and when they noticed their prince, they were quick to drop what they were doing. Even the women, in their fancy dresses with false humps to give the look of wide hips, lowered to their knees and bent their heads. It was unsettling, and I drew a small comparison to how Reddon worshiped Ascelin. “It’s a sad story, do you truly wish to hear it, my lady?”

Lady. I wanted to scoff at the language. I was nothing of the sort. Keeping my words to myself, I nodded my head for him to continue.

Getting closer to Marie’s Revenge gave the feeling of doom. I knew we had no other choice, but the castle had a spirit that screamed warnings for me and my kind.

I’d been rigid for too long, and I had the sudden desire to relax. I hadn’t wanted to burden Galan or make him uncomfortable, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care about it anymore. Hesitant at first, I leaned back into Galan’s chest. When he didn’t protest, I gave it my full weight, allowing myself to loosen my sore back. I could hear his heart, beating as softly as the first time I’d heard it. It didn’t strike hunger within me, and I found that to be the greatest comfort.

“It was built over a thousand years ago, but of course some parts of it have been redone since then,” the prince began.“Marienne Ilutia was her name,” he continued, smiling fondly as if he knew the person. “Wife of Ricard Derevi, King of Men, at that time. Forgive me, but I do not entirely remember the history. I believe he was the fifteenth King that Lonest has seen. Marienne was mortal, human as he was, but she’d come from distant lands that didn’t belong to Men. Their marriage was a peace treaty between her people and ours,” he glanced at me, probably making sure I was listening.

I was, but I wasn’t going to stare at him while he told a long story. Any attractiveness he had was diminished by his personality. I’d never enjoyed a self-centered man, mostly because they’d all been favored. He was just like them.

“Our people feared Marienne, even years after becoming their Queen. She was kind, though; it was only her blood they were frightened of. They said she was born of corrupted light,” he said. Thankfully, he finally turned his gaze away from me. “Anyways, Ricard was assassinated on their tenth anniversary, and Marienne went mad. She claimed she’d seen it, and it was one of his advisors. She also claimed he was a vampyr, and begged the court for his death.” Lothaire sighed, as if in annoyance, before continuing the story. “Insane or not, Marienne was smart enough to marry quickly, otherwise she would’ve been disposed of. She chose Ricard’s youngest brother, barely a man, which was another wise choice. Any of the others might’ve killed her, all of them believing the story the advisor had spun.”

While he spoke, Galan’s hand moved from my upper thigh, sliding up and over my body until settling over my hip. His fingers splayed over it in a strong, comforting grip. It wasn’t an unwelcome touch, but I hadn’t been expecting it. With the prince at our side, I couldn’t say anything. But I didn’t move, either, in fear he might take his hand away.

Marie’s Revenge seemed like it was shining brighter than before, as if it heard its story being told. We still had a while until we were there, but it truly was the beauty of Lonest.

We were entering what seemed like a shopping area, though much more fancy than what I’d seen in Silbath. People were crowded here, and took their time to meander off to the sides of the road. Colorful banners decorated storefronts, tucked in front of actual buildings, their doors thrown wide open for visitors. Laughter and excited chatter drowned out the music I’d been hearing before, and I felt its loss like a sting in my chest.

“Wymon was too young to be King, and the people believed she’d corrupted their sweet prince. Marienne’s reign continued for another thirty years, mostly out of fear her death would break their contract. In her time, she’d ordered this castle to be built, not trusting the one that existed, or anyone in it. Sadly, it wasn’t done by the time she was executed, by the same advisor I might add. He’d finally convinced the court she was an unfit ruler, and they had it done while their King was outside of Lonest.” Lothaire’s armor rustled as he leaned back in his saddle, pausing as his face turned thoughtful.

“Wymon, in Marienne’s absence, continued its construction. With Marienne gone, the people and court had no qualms with their once-young King. It was completed several years later, and Wymon had the entire court and all its servants moved into it. It’s believed the King had also ordered all entrances barred by sunrise, with strict orders to let none in or out of the castle once all had been accounted for. King Wymon lost half of his advisors, including Ricard and Marienne’s killer, and a good portion of court members that day. Not an inch of the castle isn’t touched by sunlight during the day, by her design, and they all burned, with nowhere to hide.” Lothaire laughed again, dark and without any humor.

I would’ve been transfixed by this story and the view of the castle, but Galan’s hand kept me grounded. Though it was only a mere touch, and with layers of clothes, it felt intimate, and arousing.

“It’s said that nothing impure may lay eyes upon Marie’s Revenge, lest they lose their sight, and likely their life.” Lothaire’s story ended, leaving me with questions, and a horrible dread in my stomach that combated Galan’s seducing touch.

“And how true is it, Prince of Men?” Galan spoke from behind me. I could feel the vibrations of his voice, rumbling through his chest and into my back.

“The last impure corpse to weasel their way into the court burned inside the castle centuries ago.” Then, he looked over at us, but didn’t notice Galan’s hand. Or he’d seen, and said nothing about it. “Fear not, Hound. If you have a heart that beats, you will survive Marie’s Revenge.”

A heart that beats. Mine did, but it could also stop. I hadn’t fully learned myself yet, and now it terrified me. My fate was unknown, if I were to be held in that castle.

“Then what has your father done with the vampyrs he’s taken? The pure-bloods? Tell me, Lothaire, has your father created room for the dead, and thus defeating the purpose of the castle?” Galan pried, and it didn’t go unnoticed that he’d dropped Lothaire’s title. I wasn’t accustomed to royalty, but I knew it was an offense.

The priests and priestesses of Reddon would’ve never tolerated being acknowledged without their title, much less their first name. It made me wonder if his last name was Derevi. Could a name have been kept for so long?

The prince’s demeanor changed instantly. He drew back in his saddle as if he’d been struck, raising himself to his full height. I could feel the anger in his gaze. It was the first sign of true emotion he’d shown, and it was stronger than what I could feel from his soldiers. Was this an ability of a vampyr, to feel and taste the emotions of humans?

“A piece of advice, Hound,” Lothaire hissed under his breath. Even though I understood the disrespect Galan had given, his level of anger didn’t match. “Watch your tongue and use the proper titles in Lonest if you want this to be a pleasant visit.”

He was still giving the illusion of choice, like we weren’t prisoners. It made me angrier than if he’d just call it what it was. It was possible that Galan could make it out fine with the King, but where did I stand? I was a guest, in Lothaire’s words, but that gave me no protection. A vampyr in Lonest was a death sentence, Galan at my side or not.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“You cannot expect for her to stay in that castle, Prince.” Galan had been careful not to say my name since Silbath. I couldn’t fathom what importance my name held, or maybe it was simply that it didn’t matter. They shouldn’t know my name. If they did learn my name, I would be more important, in a way.

It was better to be a nameless vampyr. None had asked for my name, besides Serin, but his intentions were clearer than the rest of them. Serin lusted for me- I was woman enough to know what look his eyes held when he gazed upon me. It made my skin crawl in disgust, but at least I knew he’d only asked for unimportant reasons.

It warmed me that Galan cared. I felt important in the crook of his body, the nameless vampyr that I was. I recognized that he was pushing boundaries with Lothaire, even as the wanted guest he was. Asking after my comfort and ease clearly annoyed the prince.

“The vampire,” he snarled at Galan, unable to hide his anger. His carefully planned mask had slipped and revealed the ugliness inside him. His dialect had also switched- earlier he’d pronounced it vampyr as we did, but now he spoke with an accent, dropping the pretense. What was his goal in speaking the way we did? Was it to make us more inclined to do as he wished? Maybe for some it worked that way. “Will be seen to by the King, and that is more than you can ask for, Hound.”

Galan snorted at that. “I can make this very unpleasant for all parties involved, especially your King. I will respect your titles while I am on Men’s land, but know that you hold no true authority over me.”

“As you say, Hound,” Lothaire muttered, seemingly regaining control over his emotions. I felt his eyes sweep over me, not Galan. “Though he has no use for another pure-blood, my father will not allow any harm to come to her during your stay.”

The rest of the journey was silent once more, at least from our company. Lonest was alive, pulsing and beating, humans crowding each corner I looked to. New music filled my ears, just as beautiful as the first song I’d heard, except far more lively.

We were nearing its origin, and the closer we got, the more people I saw dancing. They swung arm in arm, cheery and oblivious to the bystanders they bumped into.

Marie’s Revenge loomed in the background of this scene, daunting and menacing. Would I survive the castle?

Somehow, I’d found myself caring once more for my fate. I wanted to be disgusted with myself, for wanting something after my child’s death, but still I wanted to live. Shame rolled off of me in waves, despite the uplifting tune the music had shifted to.

Galan’s thumb began to gently stroke over the line of my hip, tracing the bone underneath. It caught me off guard, distracting me from my guilt. I was suddenly more aware of where our bodies met, and all I could feel was his pulse against my back, and his hand over my hip. It felt possessive somehow, and Ascelin, I didn’t want him to stop.

Vaguely, I felt Lothaire’s attention on us, but I couldn’t care. Not with the castle a mere stone’s throw from where we were now- I needed this. Galan didn’t seem to mind, in fact he made himself more obvious. The hand over my hip slid towards my stomach, wrapping his muscled forearm over it.

I felt his breath over my ear as he leaned in. His lips tickled the skin there for a brief moment before he spoke, low and sensual. “Do not leave my side,” he whispered softly. “Promise me.” Those lips brushed against my ear again, more than intentional. “Nod your head,” Galan murmured, and I felt his lips moving as he spoke.

My breath caught as those feelings I’d been trying to ignore swarmed me. It started in my lower belly, spreading outward over my body, like water spilling out from a cup. He shouldn’t be able to give me such a reaction, but he did.

All I could do was nod my head in answer. I wouldn’t want to leave his side, anyways. He was my one protector, but I was beginning to realize that I wanted to be by his side for more reasons than that. And it felt wrong, but oh, so right as he pressed his mouth to my head, as if he were giving it a kiss.

“Whispering sweet nothings to your vampire mistress?” Lothaire teased, but truly, he sounded annoyed. When I finally looked over at him, his eyes were already on mine, anger evident in them.

“Yes,” Galan responded, and my cheeks flamed. “I was.” He was laying claim over me? Even William had not been so outward with our marriage, nor had he ever shown public affection, even if to ward off another man. It’d never happened, anyways, due to the circumstances of my birth.

I could’ve been the prettiest woman in Reddon, and I would’ve still been passed over for any favored woman. I was neither of those things, and I knew it well. Vampyr or not, some things would never change.

I watched as that anger in the prince grew again, and almost feared he’d lash out against Galan. Why did it matter to him at all? But more importantly, I wanted to know why Galan had claimed me as his mistress. It implied we were together, without the vows of marriage.

“She looks different from the rest of them,” he said finally, and it surprised me. “Human turned pure-blood?” He asked Galan, as if I weren’t right there.

“She is the same as any other pure-blood,” Galan replied in an even tone, like he was talking to a child. Somehow, it angered me to be called the same as them. I agreed I was born the same way as them, but I was no favored. That had been established a long time ago. But were the favored not also humans, as I once was?

“You lie to me, Hound.” Lothaire came to his own conclusion, his eyes unmoving from my body. “I know a woman’s body when I see it,” he said, lifting a hand before Galan could say something. “A human woman’s body, that is.”

“You know not what you speak of.” Galan was lying through his teeth, and now I knew it just as well as he did. It seemed there was much to learn, and very little answers.

“Save the games for my father,” Lothaire dismissed him, finally turning his attention back to Marie’s Revenge. We’d stopped just before a long pathway, with only one exit. It was like a bridge, except no water lay underneath it. “The King waits for you.”

Galan leaned forward, wrapping his other arm around me. It was subtle, but he’d slipped something into the sleeve of my dress. It felt cool to the touch, and alive. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d put something truly alive in my sleeve, but I felt a presence, a mind, with wants and desires. “Remember what I told you,” he murmured a reminder to me before swiftly releasing me and landing on the ground beside the horse. He extended a hand for me, expecting me to do the same. I was nowhere near as graceful as him, stumbling as I landed. His arms were there to catch me, steadying me as I got my sense of balance back. I’d spent too long on a horse, when I had never done so before.

I felt sore from my ribs down, and I wasn’t sure that was a normal thing for a vampyr. The look in Galan’s eyes was enough for me to take a deep breath, steadying another piece of myself. Was he distracting me on purpose?

“And will you be joining us, Prince?” Galan questioned, keeping me in the crook of his arm as he turned to face the man. Lothaire lifted a brow, his jaw working in annoyance.

“Yes,” Lothaire bit out, and he didn’t sound the least bit happy. The air around us waited for his next words, for they were sure to come, but never did. Whatever else the prince was thinking, he would not share.

In less than a heartbeat, the prince had dismounted and was standing next to us. His presence felt looming to me, as if he would reach out and snatch me from Galan’s arm.

I had enough of an angle to glance at the waiting soldiers, and couldn’t help but wonder what they were going to do now. Would they wait here for their prince to return? Or would they come with us, shadowing as they did before?

My questions were answered instantly. Lothaire turned to his men and gave a simple wave of his hand. On his command, they dispersed, taking the extra horses with them as they left. No questions, no clarification, they simply did, and kept silent about however they felt. It was admirable that anyone had that much control over anyone else, especially so many.

But what stuck out to me was that the prince trusted his safety with us. He believed we would do nothing, and unfortunately he was right. At least, I thought so.

Lothaire gave us a lingering look of contempt, but it was focused around the arm Galan had around my waist. “Follow me,” he said, and turned on his heel abruptly.

Galan wasn’t immediately trailing behind him, and neither was I. Giving the castle another glance, I was the first to take a step away, following him. We were already this far, hesitating was childish now.

Golden gates, taller than any man or beast, were beginning to open as Lothaire neared the end of this bridge-like pathway. Trees, thick and bushy, lined the path, tucked tightly together to make it appear like a wall of green. Galan kept his pace in line with mine, his shoulder brushing against mine as if he were afraid someone could take me away if he wasn’t close enough to prevent it. I doubted I had as much importance as that, but it still felt nice to be protected.

The gates seemed to move on their own accord, for no men were stationed at their ends, or anywhere near in sight, to have opened it for the prince. Lothaire paid it no mind and continued on his way, never looking behind him to see if we truly were following. It wasn’t like we could run away, so I couldn’t fault his confidence.

It wasn’t until we were in the shadow of Marie’s Revenge that I saw the soldiers. They plastered themselves to the walls, hiding in that darkness, their armor blending with the stone behind them. I couldn’t help the confusion that flittered across my face. These men did not feel. . . human. They had hearts, beating as a human’s would, but I could not feel their emotions. I could not taste their thoughts, their wants, as I could with the human’s I’d come in contact with before.

It was another thing to wonder, and worry, over, but it wasn’t as pressing as the others. They stayed at their stations, giving me no reason to worry too strongly about them.

The entrance to Marie’s Revenge was a rounded archway, large enough to fit a family side by side through its opening. The stone around the edges were painted gold, sparkling in the soft light from afar. No lights illuminated the courtyard of the castle, and I already knew why. There was no need for light in a place that was consumed by it daily, and creatures of the night would find no welcome.

Those wide double doors swung open faster than I thought they could move, revealing the innards of the castle. It was vastly empty, but Ascelin was it gorgeous. This, certainly, had been designed by a woman’s hand.

“Is King Mirin awake at such a late hour?” Galan asked aloud to the prince, just before we’d crossed the doorway.

“He is, and waits for your presence,” came a new voice, inside the castle. Out from the darkness stepped a figure, similarly built to Lothaire. Golden blond hair spilled in gentle waves down to his shoulders, framing a face that I recognized. I hadn’t seen the man before, but I’d been sitting next to his brother long enough to familiarize myself with the shape of his face. This man had the same look to him, yet softer around the edges.

“Larelis,” Lothaire said, stepping forward to clap him over the back.

Larelis had suspicion in his eyes, glaring at Galan and I over the shoulder of his brother. He was right to fear us, I could feel it coming off of him in waves. “Come,” he said, stepping away from Lothaire. “Father has been waiting for a long time.” His voice implied it was a bad thing.

Galan’s hand found my arm, pulling me tightly into his side. His body angled subtly as we walked forward, as if preparing himself to step out and shield me.

Once inside the entrance, I found that the castle opened up into one large room, big enough to have fit an entire row of houses from Reddon. The chamber had small sections that split off into endless hallways. Rows and rows of doors lined those halls, and I almost wanted to open each of them to see what they hid. There couldn’t possibly be a use for all of those rooms, but then again, I wasn’t royalty, nor did I have any clue how royalty worked.

A grand staircase took the main center of the chamber, splitting into two individual stairs as it neared the bottom. A platform had been left in between floors, and I imagined it was a dramatic feeling to stand there and look down upon others.

The brothers took to those stairs instantly, already knowing where their father was. They seemed in a rush to get us there, too.

We followed them silently, and I gave up on trying to memorize which turns we had taken. There were too many hallways, too many doors, too many rooms. It was a maze, but it was a beautiful one at that. I would hand it to Marie. Her revenge was a sight to behold.

I knew when we were getting closer to the King. The seemingly empty castle was no longer that way, at least on this end of it. Guards littered the hallways, mere feet between their stations. They felt the same to me as the men outside. They were not human, not fully.

At our arrival, four of those men came forward, blocking the rest of the hallway. Only one door remained, and its door was thrown wide open. From our angle, I could see nothing inside.

“Allow them through,” Lothaire said quietly, but they did not answer to his command.

Moments later, a voice came from that room. “Let them through.” It was a rough voice, deep and gravelly. At once, the guards returned to their positions, allowing us to pass through. Galan’s hand slipped away from me, and he used it to push me behind him in a gentle movement. He would go first.

The Hound was confident in his step, but I knew the worry he carried on his shoulders. I was still trying to make sense of it all, when that voice came again, and I knew it was the King. “Galan.” That one word had my world come to a crashing stop. How had he known his name?