CHAPTER 32: THE BALL (PART 1)
“Faerie sa score score score score sa kindgoms. No jest one thin. Somma kind, somma cruel. Tey all srange. Tat be true fo all tem. We canna make deals withsome, lika with Demons. Call em up and set em ta work. Unlika Demons do, Faerie be vaery on what they want in ekschange. Time, teeth, words, childer, or sometin else. Learn wha you tradin and keep a-deal. Yousa can works good with most of the Side-walkers.” - ‘words’ of Rath-Shaman Boyne
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Natalie had started to believe she wasn’t the clueless village girl she’d once been. Her experiences, both good and bad, refined her perspective and granted new understanding. But all that growth seemed petty in the face of an Aristocrat’s extravagance. She hadn’t even arrived at the Ball, and House DeMello’s display of wealth rattled her. Standing before Natalie was a fancifully made carriage of polished white wood, marked with the horse sigil of House DeMello and pulled by one of the strangest creatures Natalie had ever seen. It was both horse and man. Where a warhorse’s neck should be was a powerful torso and striking head, covered in ornate bronze armor. The horse’s flanks were painted with spiraling sigils. Shocked and confused, Natalie looked to Cole, who let out an annoyed sigh and approached the horse-man creature. “Are you to be our escort this evening Master Centaur?”
The Centaur’s helmed head bobbed, and it, no, he, spoke with a lyrical accent. “The Baroness has tasked me with guiding the Paladin and his consort to her festival.”
Natalie frowned at the Centaur’s voice. It almost sounded like something a throat could not make; it was more like a musician's attempt to create a voice. Somehow it reminded her of Glynn’s odd accent. Taking Cole’s offered hand, Natalie entered the coach. The two barely fit into the snug seat, and Natalie enjoyed the feeling of Cole’s well-dressed form pressed against her. An opinion he apparently shared, considering his slight blush.
Once they were situated, Cole spoke to their escort. “Thank you for this honor and courtesy. We are ready whenever you are.”
The Centaur started pulling the carriage, moving them with stoic speed. Natalie knew with Cole’s bulk they were a heavy load, but the Centaur pulled them without issue. Whispering into Cole’s ear, Natalie asked. “I’ve never heard of a Centaur? Where are they from?”
Answering her whisper, Cole said. “They are Fae. Summoned to our world by magical contract.”
Natalie went completely rigid, eyes locked onto the Centaur. He’d gone from curiosity to nightmare in a single sentence. Sidhe, Fae, Faire Folk, Sidewalkers, Elderborn, a thousand names for the creatures who’d once ruled the world, beings from the Gray Beyond who brought madness and doom on any they choose to condemn
Putting a gentle hand on hers, Cole whispered. “Not all Fae are monstrous. Many of the petty kingdoms have… palatable relationships with our world. It’s not unheard of for Magi and Shamans to deal with them peacefully. Summoning one to pull a carriage, though… that is noble ostentation defined. ”
Cole was forced to reassess as the carriage headed towards the Second District and its noble estates. He’d spotted five other centaur-drawn carriages on the same thoroughfare as them. This had gone from ostentatious to ridiculous by merit of sheer scale. Reaching under his half-cape, Cole fingers slipped into one of the pockets Englebert had sewed for him, feeling their contents he relaxed slightly. He doubted this was a trap, but rampant paranoia had spared him more than a few deaths.
The trip continued without murder or mayhem, with the carriages arriving outside the DeMello Manor. As the Centaur pulled them past the iron gates of the estate, Natalie craned her head up to take in the full vastness of the palace. It sat like a diamond, with one corner facing the road. The other three were dominated by towers surrounding a great dome. Winter gardens flanked the palace, hugging its walls and extending out to give the whole estate a circular footprint.
The Centaur pulled away from the entrance, following the inside of the wall on a circular road that surrounded the garden. The Centaur stopped when he was halfway between the front and back of the estate. “My task is done. Enjoy the gardens before the Ball begins.”
Cole and Natalie glanced at each other before exiting the carriage. Cole nodded respectfully to the Centaur, as did Natalie at his prompting. “Thank you for your aid and protection Master Centaur.”
The Centaur returned the nod, made a noise like a melodic whiny, and trotted away, leaving the couple in the garden, where snow dusted bushes were surrounded by flowers sculpted from snow. Hand on Cole’s arm, Natalie walked beside him as they headed through the icy garden scape. Pale statues and dry fountains mingled with snow sculptures and colored ice, making the whole area both beautiful and eerie.
They were reasonably isolated, with another group of attendees a little further up the garden path. Laughter and conversation floated through the cold night air. Natalie’s sensitive ears caught snippets of it.
“Those weren’t real Centaurs! Just illusions, you know how the DeMello Magi is.”
“Did you hear Lord and Lady Tavis aren’t staying in the same wing of their estate?”
“Oh yes! They caught Lord Tavis with a scullery maid!”
“BAH! I don’t know where you’re getting such bad information. They caught LADY Tavis with the scullery maid.”
The fact gossip wasn’t any different among nobles or commoners amused Natalie. Looking to Cole, who was busy scanning the garden for any threat, she asked. “The party ahead is saying the Centaur wasn’t real?”
Cole let out an amused snort. “I assure you that Centaur was a creature called from the Beyond, I could feel it.”
Taking that confirmation, Natalie kept walking, picking up more bits of gossip though she had no proper context for the rumors and half truths, she’d long learned at the Silly Goat to enjoy the idle ramblings of people. That is until they involved her.
“Did you hear who one of the guests of honor is?”
“Yeah! A Paladin! A real-life Paladin! The one who stopped the riot.”
“Oh, that’s not all he’s doing. You know who his paramour is, right?”
“Who? Don’t you mean what?”
“A Vampire? You can’t be serious?”
Letting out a tired sigh, Natalie licked her fangs. She’d known this was coming but hoped it wouldn’t be one of the first things she heard upon arriving. Mustering up some courage, Natalie pressed forward, comforted by the steady presence of Cole at her side.
They soon reached the entrance of DeMello Manor, a great columned antechamber exposed to the outside. Heading towards the vestibule, Cole whispered. “Are you ready?”
Natalie gave him a bleakly amused look. “When am I ever?”
Resisting a snort of laughter, he led her into DeMello Manor. The antechamber was guarded by footmen, each armored and standing between the columns, enclosing the vestibule in marble and steel. A dozen other guests milled about the space, Either waiting for friends or waiting in line to be announced.
Joining the queue, Cole and Natalie got more than a few strange looks. A number of the younger Ballgowers didn’t even try to hide their stares as they fixated on Cole’s scars. Natalie noticed this and couldn’t help but be grateful he soaked up the attention that might be put on her. For his part, Cole just ignored the prying eyes, he’d gotten used to them a long time ago.
A voice from behind the couple pulled their attention. “Excuse me! Are you new to the city? I don’t believe we recognize you?”
A portly man in his early fifties in an extravagant doublet with ruffles stood there. Next to him was a wiry-thin fellow of similar age with an exasperated look on his face. The tall one let out a sigh and said. “I must apologize for my husband. He’s got the manner and temperament of a wild Boar.”
The short one snorted “Oh, you know that is one of the things you love about me.” before refocusing on Cole. “Now tell me, where in the world did you get so many scars! I’ve got more than a few from my youth, but I’ve never seen someone so marked with honor!”
Cole just then noticed a line going down the short man’s face that he’d assumed was a wrinkle was, in fact, a long dueling scar. Again the tall one stepped in for his apparent spouse. “Since I’m never going to get through to him, I might as well compensate on his behalf.”
Holding out a hand, he said, “I’m Mason Von Aegor, and this is my husband, Sir Horace Von Aegor. A silly old soldier who seems to think asking people about their private business is a good way to introduce themselves.”
Smiling slightly, Cole took the offered hand. “I’m Cole of Atredia, and this is my partner Natalie.”
Horace waddled over and took Natalie’s hand, kissing it. “Pleasure to meet you both. My word, dear, that is a lovely dress, but aren’t you a little cold in it?”
Smiling with her lips hidden, Natalie shrugged, sending the mantle of lace fluttering. “The pleasure is all mine and the cold does not particularly bother me”
The line started to move then, and the quartet walked with it. Horace repeated his earlier question. “So, are you new to Vindabon?”
Cole nodded. “I’ve visited before, but this is our first time at an event like this.”
Horace laughed deeply. “Oh, then you are in for a treat! The DeMellos are ever the showmen. Whenever they host the Ball, you know it will be a spectacle.”
Leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper, he added. “From the way I hear it, the summoned Centaurs were just the tip of this glacier. More than one Magi earned DeMello patronage by helping set all of this up.”
The vestibule gave way to a great entrance chamber lined with suits of armor. Cole and Natalie both found themselves staring at the decorative plate, bad memories resurfacing at the sight. Before they could dwell on those recollections, they were guided along a long red carpet by well-uniformed ushers, past branching halls and other doors, traveling along the velvet path like blood in a vein.
Despite herself, Natalie kept stopping to look at some curiosity, be they beautiful paintings and intricate statuary lining the walls, or incredible dresses and suits worn by their fellow ballgoers. Even the servants were impeccably dressed and professionally groomed. The whole thing was a surreal experience, reminding her of Castle Glockmire but somehow more alive and gaudy, like the DeMello Estate parodied the aristocratic opulence of the Vampires. As she thought about it, Natalie realized the opposite was probably true, the Nocturnal Nobility were a parody of the aristocrats around her.
“How wealthy is House DeMello?” she asked, trying to comprehend the dizzying extravagance around them.
Mason answered her. “Very, the DeMello’s started as Horse Lords. They breed and sell the finest mounts in the League. Most merchants and militaries from Harmas to Parilux buy from the DeMello stables. A financial backbone they’ve put to good use in growing their riches”
Nodding at that, Natalie saw they’d arrived before a grand set of double doors. Every thirty seconds or so, the doors would open, and another group of ball-goers would be issued inside.
Seeing this, Cole let out another weary sigh. Turning to Horace and Mason, he said. “Would you go ahead of us?”
Giving him a strange look, the older couple shrugged and went ahead. Looking to Natalie now that they had a modicum of privacy, Cole explained what was happening. “Every time someone passes through those doors, a herald announces them to the ball. We’ll be known to everyone the moment we pass through.”
Sucking in a pointless breath, Natalie sighed. On a whim, she let her false-life weaken a little. Red crept back into her eyes, and she lost a few skin tone shades. She was proud of how well she could use the false-life, the ability reaching new heights with her constant practice.
Cole took Natalie’s hand and squeezed it. “Are you sure?”
Red eyes looked up at him, and Natalie smiled, letting her fangs show. “No point in hiding what I am.”
Stepping to the entrance, Cole took their invitation and showed it to the servants working the double doors. One took the invitation and did a double take upon reading it. The herald recovered himself quickly and gestured for the other servants to open the doors. They slid open without a sound, their hinges oiled to perfection. Following the herald, Cole and Natalie braced for their introduction.
The herald stroked his throat, activating whatever magic he used to enhance his voice, and spoke. “Introducing Sir Cole of Atredia, Paladin, Rest-bringer, Demon-slayer, Sun-caller, Champion of the Tenth Temple, and protector of Vindabon.”
“Accompanied by his consort, Lady Natalie, redeemed Vampire of the Duchies and temple-bound supplicant.”
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The door opened onto an incredible scene. The ballroom was a huge domed structure of tables and pavilions scattered around a large dancing space. The domed roof of the ballroom was painted like a fantastical version of the night sky. Constellations whirled and danced in a midnight blue sky. Accompanied by choirs of falling stars and conducted by the silver moon painted on the dome’s peak.
But the painted roof wasn’t the main wonder of the chamber. A long spear of ice dripped down from the painted moon and extended into a massive ice chandelier. The ‘chandelier’ hung over much of the ballroom floor, its strange structures of colored ice creating a vaguely familiar pattern. Staring at it, Natalie felt something click into place. The history book Cole had gotten her had included many maps of Vindabon. Maps that matched the chandelier. It was a colossal inverted map of the city made of multi-hued ice. Defying gravity and temperature to hang above the ball like some floating fae city.
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It was so incredible; it kept Natalie distracted from the hundreds of eyes staring up at her and Cole. They stood at the top of a small staircase that led down into the ballroom. Placed to ensure newcomers were on display for the entire hall. After drinking in the ice city and the general opulence of the chamber, Natalie was forced to acknowledge the collective stares of Vindabon’s elite.
There was hate and distrust in those eyes, as she expected. But they weren’t the only expressions. Curiosity, wary interest, uncertainty, and even amusement. Natalie tried to shift her focus as they stepped down the entrance stairs by muttering to Cole. “Nice collection of titles.”
Cole’s lips quirked, and he squeezed her hand. “One of those habits ingrained in nobility. I’m just thankful they weren’t too terribly ridiculous.”
At the bottom of the steps, they were met by a small group who’d gotten up to meet them. Cole and Natalie were surprised to see the main members of the group. Dressed in rich furs and heavy jewelry were some of the Werefolk. Kistine, her daughter Ametza, and the twins, Jaks and Jokin. Alongside a few other Werefolk, Natalie vaguely remembered from her midnight escape.
Standing near to them but still a little separated was Jaerd DeMello and an entourage of young nobles. The boy looked much more presentable than Cole had last seen him, near-naked in the Undercroft tunnels. He looked at Cole with a mix of trepidation, annoyance, and worry.
Jaerd stepped forward and took Cole’s hand. “It’s good to see you, Sir Paladin, under more pleasant circumstances.”
After a painful moment of hesitation, he also nodded to Natalie. “It’s also nice to meet you, Lady Natalie. The city has been abuzz about you.”
Ametza came up then and gave Natalie a hug. The young Werewolf smiled as she squeezed the Vampire in a shockingly strong embrace. “I’d say these are better circumstances to meet under!”
Surprised by the gesture, Natalie returned the hug. “What are you doing here?”
Kistine answered for her daughter. “The city invited a delegation from the Moot to this… event. Hoping to unruffle some fur on both sides. My family's connections to you and the Paladin made us a clear fit for the invited group.”
Their welcoming party led Cole and Natalie towards a table set beneath the Tenth Temple on the ice map. Natalie couldn’t help but look up at the suspended towers and domes of the religious complex. Hanging above them like some ash-stained icicle formation.
Jaerd explained. “Seating arrangements match places of influence. As the Paladin and representative of the Tenth Temple, this table is for you and your consort.”
Glancing at the dozen or so seats available, Cole asked. “Are we expecting more from the Temple or…?”
Ametza and her cousins plopped down into three of the chairs without a preamble. “Guests of the city are divided up between whoever likes them most.” she gestured to the other Werefolk who’d joined the Shohgards. “They all have friends among the Merchants and similar. While we have you.”
Looking at the Werefolk with slight annoyance, Jaerd added. “I’ve also been asked to sit with you, Sir Paladin, if you find that acceptable?”
Raising a tattered eyebrow, Cole asked. “Why is that?”
Jaerd shifted uncomfortably, looking every bit the nervous teenager. “Because you are the guest of honor invited by my House; and because you rescued me in the Undercroft.”
Pulling out Natalie’s seat and guiding her into it, Cole asked the young noble. “What exactly did you tell your mother?
Even more uncomfortable, Jaerd whispered. “I said you found me after I got lost in the Undercroft. Something down there didn’t feel right, and I took a wrong turn trying to take a shortcut. I ran into Delia, and we were lost and scared until you found us and helped guide us out of the darkness.”
Cole let out an amused snort that turned into a sigh. “I won’t contradict your… account if you help me with something.”
Jaerd’s face lost a few shades of color, and before his imagination could run away, Cole explained. “I’m ignorant of the different families and groups of the city. Having someone who can help me navigate this ball would be helpful.”
Sitting down, Cole looked around to see many, many eyes still focused on his table. Jaerd also sat down, leaving a seat between himself and Cole. “What do you want to know?”
Glancing around the various tables, Cole said. “House Louon, where are they seated?”
Jaerd pointed. “Underneath their manor, just over there.”
Natalie looked at Cole and whispered. “Are we doing this now?”
Cole shrugged. “Do you still have the scent?”
She nodded, and Cole smiled. “Then why not?”
Ametza leaned over and asked. “What are you two up to?”
Helping Natalie to her feet, Cole looked in the direction Jaerd had pointed. “Ending something that has gone on for far too long.”
Interested, Ametza left her mother and cousins to follow them. Jaerd also tagged along, suddenly wondering if he’d set off something he probably shouldn’t have. The Louon pavilion was nearly on the other side of the ballroom, and getting there quickly proved to be an obstacle. Waves of ball-goers crashed up against Cole and Natalie. Offering introductions and platitudes to them both. Natalie tried memorizing the faces and names bombarding her like sea spray while Cole let them roll off him.
Eventually, they were slowed down by the sheer weight of people. The couple bogged down in a mire of questions.
“How long have you been a Vampire?”
“Who made that Dress?”
“Was the Demon scary?”
“Where did you two meet?”
“When did you start courting?”
“Are those scars real?”
“Why are you in Vindabon?”
Cole found himself treading conversational water as the tide rolled in around them. Answering with sentences both vague and curt. Natalie, for her part, was adapting quite well. The whole thing reminded her of a busy night at the Silly Goat. Except instead of food orders from tipsy town folks, it was personal questions from over-primped aristocrats.
Slowly mastering the deluge, Natalie answered some questions. “I was turned less than a year ago. We started courting when Cole came to my hometown hunting a vampire. He brought me to Vindabon because I would be safe here. Oh, and the dress is from Schineder and Schineder, lovely tailors and dressmakers.”
Cole’s stoic disregard and Natalie’s polite answers helped them escape the social swamp and push toward their chosen shore. The whole thing made Cole’s tattered skin crawl. Countless smiling faces, each hiding an agenda. At least with the nocturnal nobility, you knew they were all predatory monsters. With these living aristocrats, Cole had to give them the benefit of the doubt.
They surfaced from the social press and stood near House Louon’s pavilion. Two tables and a throng of people were sheltered beneath a small tent holding the house colors. Members of the House and whoever they were conversing with. The Louons were easy to tell apart from their fellows. Each had the angular face and lean build of their patriarch, but more importantly, they shared the same golden eyes. Not all were as vivid as Graf Louon’s, but each House Member had gilded irises.
Natalie sucked in a breath and frowned. This close, she could smell the Louons. They each had the same spiced aroma she’d scented in the blood, confirming what she and Cole suspected. Entering the pavilion, Cole went towards the Graf, who was currently speaking with a few fellow aristocrats, judging by their gaudy clothing.
Still, on Cole’s arm, Natalie kept sniffing the air, trying to match the blood’s flavor against the similar smells around them. It was annoyingly difficult. Maybe twenty of the Louons were nearby, and they all smelled practically identical. Their individual odors were masked by their inherited power.
Graf Isac Louon ended his conversation and turned to Cole. His gilded eyes flashed with contempt. “Paladin, what brings you to my pavilion?”
Cole smiled and decided to play auroch among glassware. “An apology and a question.”
Louon raised an eyebrow and glanced towards Natalie, his lips becoming a hard line upon noticing her. “You are apologizing for what exactly, Paladin? Undermining the council's authority?”
Cole’s smile tightened ever so slightly. “Oh, I’m not offering an apology. I’m demanding one for your efforts to get my Love executed. She risked her life to help this city, and you repaid that effort with the worst kind of cruelty. One delivered through a pen stroke.”
Red eyes wide, Natalie looked at Cole with shock. She hadn’t expected him to do something like this. And judging by how he squeezed her hand, Cole hadn’t planned to either. Meeting the shorter noble's golden eyes, Cole let his smile become cold.
“As for the question, I have a couple related to a woman once in your employ. By the name of Michelle Stine.”
The Graf became very still, his dilating eyes the only thing that moved. Around him, his family members weren’t as controlled. Some looked worried, a few confused, and one, in particular, looked downright shocked. So much so that he didn’t even notice the wine glass slipping through his fingers until it hit the ground with a tinkling crash. Cole turned to the wine dropper and nodded in recognition.
“You were at the Weinstadt guard tower.” The spindly noble looked much the same as when Cole last saw him. When he’d been offering his house’s assistance in patrolling for Werefolk the day of the riot.
Stepping away from the Graf, Cole held out a hand to the noble. “And who might you be?”
The man looked at Cole’s hand as if it was a poisonous snake. But he still puffed out his chest and said, “I am Grafling Liam Louon. Heir to House Louon.”
Natalie frowned and let her mind travel back to the genealogy of House Louon. Liam, the man before them, was the son of Louis, the previous Grafling who’d died at the battle of Milda. Just in the age range to be a young adolescent when Michelle Stine disappeared. He was too young to be the killer, but he clearly knew something.
Cole wasn’t even thinking in that regard; his attention was on Liam’s eyes. They weren’t golden, not even a little. They were mundane hazel. Graf Louon stepped between Cole and his grandson, his polished shoes shattering glass. Teeth bared, the old noble growled. “Step away, Paladin. You are so far out of line you can’t even imagine.”
The Paladin didn’t flinch. He didn’t know what magic the Graf could call up, but Cole didn’t particularly care. He was close; he could feel it as a cold pulse in his chest. Leaning forward, Cole whispered into the Graf’s ear. “How long have your family members been going mad? How long has one of your kin been murdering innocents out of some delusion?”
Eyes wild with shock and rising wrath, the Graf stepped back from Cole and looked to one of his relatives. Graf Louon made a curt gesture and pointed at Cole. Then stepped away. The new relative, a man in his thirties with a lean, dangerous look, stepped up. A wild smile on his face.
He slipped off a silken glove and tossed it onto the ground between them. “I am Sir Leoric of House Louon. I challenge you to a duel for your insults. Paladin or not, you consort with monsters and impinge on my family name. Let you be humbled before everyone here!”
A loud cough came from behind Cole and the Louons. The growing crowd parted to make way for Baroness Patrizia DeMello. The noblewoman was clad in a dress both majestic and ridiculous. It was a mix of blues, greens, and pinks. Like someone had captured northern sky-fire and woven it into a mass of flowing fabric. Cole found it bizarre, and Natalie found it impressive.
Looking over the scene, the Baroness made an overly dramatic sigh. “Sir Paladin, I was so pleased to invite you to my ball as a guest of honor. But now I am questioning that decision; you are here for less than an hour, and you’ve already managed to provoke a duel. Tsk tsk, I would expect better of you.”
Cole bowed to the noblewoman. “I’m sorry, Baroness. That was not at all my intent. I’d hoped to use the Solstice and New Year spirit to wash away some stains. I did not expect House Louon to react so… explosively.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow at Cole’s words and gestures. The man could be so obtuse in some social situations. Then in others, he’d have all the grace and polish of some noble courtier. As Natalie thought about it, Cole probably had been once.
The Baroness tittered in amusement. “That is more of what I was expecting, Sir Paladin. Still, I cannot have you offending my other guests or them offending you. Escort me to my table, and Sir Leoric will drop this matter of honor. Everyone can go their separate ways, and the party can continue.”
Looking over the golden-eyed Louons, each staring at him with contempt, confusion, or worry, Cole nodded to the Baroness. “A just compromise.”
Clapping her hands together in a gesture both childlike and authoritative, the Baroness turned to Natalie. “My, and aren’t you a lovely thing! I can understand why the Paladin is infatuated with you.”
A little uncertain about what to do, Natalie mimicked a curtsey she’d seen other ladies perform. It got an amused laugh from the Baroness who found her son and took his hand. “Oh, and I see my darling Jaerd has been close by. So sweet of him to stay close to his savior.”
Cole just nodded. “Yes, he’s been a good host.”
Beaming at that, the Baroness led Cole and Natalie away from the Louon pavilion. They reached the high table, where the most powerful citizens of Vindabon sat. Or at least where they should have. The nearby dance floor attracted people as a violinist started a low crooning melody.
Smiling broadly, the Baroness DeMello gestured to the polished hardwood. “Ah, wonderful! A dance to lighten the mood. Take your darling Vampire and enjoy Sir Paladin.”
Cole twitched slightly at her word choice but took Natalie’s hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Smiling, not caring that her fangs were on display, Natalie laughed. “I’d love to.”
Leading her onto the dance floor, Cole whispered, “Shame it can’t end the same way our last dance did.”
Beaming, Natalie swatted his arm playfully before settling her hands on him. The lone violinist was joined by a full orchestra, and they played a lovely tune perfect for a beginning dance. Arm wrapped around her waist, hand in hers, Cole danced with Natalie. Beneath the crystalline streets of the icy city, they whirled and danced. Opposites but somehow the same, red and blue spinning beneath a sky of paint and frost.
The moment lasted a wonderful eternity, only ending as the song did. The fast melody was replaced by a slower tune, and Natalie let herself melt against Cole’s chest. Hearing his heart through the cloth and enjoying its drumbeat. Natalie looked up as they passed close to the orchestra, seeing a familiar face among the performers. It was the busker from the first day they arrived at Vindabon. Dressed in fine clothes and playing the same fiddle as before.
Cole saw where her eyes went, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I told you he was more than what he wanted people to think.”
Natalie answered his laugh and let her eyes sweep across the ballroom. The dance floor was a shifting maelstrom of fabric and pageantry. It’s multi-hued complexity, hypnotic and wonderful. It reminded Natalie of soapy water, a rainbow sheen of color swirling in a living current. To her amusement, she saw Ametza dancing with a nervous looking young noble. Nearby the Werewolf’s cousins danced with another set of twins. Twin brothers clad in furs dancing with twin sisters clad in lace. An interesting juxtaposition that spoke of mending wounds.
As the slow dance ended, Natalie prepared for the next song. It didn’t reach her ears; her mind was suddenly pulled by the incredible smell behind her. Twisting to look, Natalie was shocked as a spray of blood splattered over her face. Spiced, strong blood.
Shutting her mouth and clenching her eyes, Natalie hissed at the urge to lick the ambrosia covering her face, chest, and hair. Cole pulled her close to his chest and wiped at her with his half-cape. Blinded by the blood, Natalie didn’t see what was happening.
Cole stared at Sir Leoric, eyes burning with cold rage. The Louon Knight had stalked over to them and tossed a glass of blood onto Natalie. Sneering at them, the knight spat. “Monsters like your whore killed my mother. You might dress her in silk and lace, but she’s still a blood-drinking leech. See how she reacts to spilled blood! Paladin or not, you insult this city and its people by protecting such a creature. I challenge you again, leech-slave! I call you out as honor and dignity demand it!”
Natalie was shivering and twitching, trying to ignore the blood that had gotten into her mouth. It was potent, unbearably potent. Even well-fed as she was, it roused her thirst. Looking up at Cole, Natalie blinked away the blood and saw the fury in his eyes. With one hand, he finished wiping the blood off Natalie’s face. Moving her to the edge of the dance floor, he found Kistine. The old Shaman had gotten up from the table at the noise and came to investigate.
Ametza was nearby, having left her suitor. The Werewolf’s teeth were bared, and a bubbling growl came up from her throat. Cole looked at Natalie and the two women before whispering to his lover. “This needs to be addressed. Can I leave you with Ametza and Kistine?”
Recovering slightly, Natalie gave him a weak smile. “The killer is a cousin to whoever's the blood that was. It probably belongs to the knight, judging by the taste.”
Cupping her chin, Cole frowned. “You can tell?”
Natalie shrugged. “I don’t know if I could normally, but with blood as potent as that… Well, I can get more details. Like Sir Leoric is sick. Something is wrong with his blood; it's not just potent, it's… I can’t describe it. It’s just wrong.”
Kissing Natalie’s forehead, Cole said. “I love you.”
Natalie resisted the urge to return the kiss because of the blood smeared on Cole’s lips. “I love you too. I’ll be okay; go ruin the bastard.”
Smiling, Cole squeezed her hand and then turned back to the watching crowd. Finding the shocked Baroness, he bowed. “Baroness Patrizia DeMello. As this is your home and your event, I ask you to judge this duel. It’s stakes and manner I leave in your capable hands.”
The Baroness grimaced and glanced between Cole and Leoric. She could tell there would be no point in trying to de-escalate this. Sighing, she waved a hand. “Dueling blades until first blood. Let's get this idiocy over with.”