"I don't disapprove of him. I hate him. He's demonic and coarse. He fought me fang and claw over the lady's choice round. Tonight he'll see how right I was to include it."
"Still don't care to tell me anything about it? Such as if I'll have a chance to take Gourlav out?"
"A chance? Hmm. There is a chance. And that's all I'll-"
"Say on the matter," Bettina finished for her. She set her dented glass aside, resting her elbows on the railing, peering below. Something caught Bettina's eye. A raven-haired female was sauntering through the crowds-though others were steering clear of her.
It had to be the odd spectator who'd been showing up every night. She had pointed ears and wore T-shirts emblazoned with PRINCE OF SHADOW #1! The strange fey creature brought buckets of theater popcorn that she never ate. She tried to start waves and chants, cheering Daciano on.
"Morgana, do you know anything about that weird female who shows up for each night's fight, the one who wears trashy T-shirts?" Was she a former lover of his?
Chapter 29
Bettina sniffed to herself. If so, that bitch ooooolllld.
"Hmm? Don't concern yourself with her."
"You didn't answer my question. How is she connected to the Prince of Shadow? Tell me." The female looked like a Valkyrie. Considered "good guys" in the Lore, the Valkyries were major Vertas players.
We don't get many of her ilk here. In times past, the Deathly Ones had sided with the more nefarious factions of the Lore. For this Accession, Raum had already made gestures to ally with the Horde and other demonarchies aligned with the Pravus.
"Your eyes go bright, freakling. Are you jealous of the female? After all, you are the Shadow Prince's Bride."
"Of course I'm not jealous." I might be jealous.
"He looks at you as if you're a virgin vein. There's much to be said for obsessive hunger." Morgana patted her hand knowingly. "Solid partnerships have been built on less. Did I mention that I spoke with him the other night while he awaited his bout?"
"You did what?" Questions about the raven-haired spectator disappeared.
"I told him, 'You must be a Forbearer.' He merely said, 'Must I?' then turned away. That dripping disdain-so sexy!"
Morgana had no idea how sexy that vampire was. I do. Because he was mine for three brief encounters.
"I decided I wanted his tongue on me; I couldn't decide if I wanted it still attached to his mouth or not. So I held off. Now I'm glad I did, since you're so possessive of him."
"I'm not possessive." Morgana together with Daciano? The idea made her want to screech.
"And there go your eyes once more. Raum has shown favoritism at every turn, gunning for a demon king. It would serve him right if you wed a vampire." With a chuckle, she turned to leave.
But at the doorway, she gazed back with a thoughtful look on her face, offering Bettina cryptic wisdom: "Remember, freakling, the greatest thing about having power is the mere having of power. Use the latter well, and you'll never have to use the former."
Just hours ago, Trehan had been in his tent, sharpening his gleaming sword, grappling with a fury so strong it scalded him inside.
Now he sat at his desk, cleaning his well-bloodied sword, face spattered with gore-and still struggling to rein in his overwhelming rage.
I'm backsliding.
But didn't the term backsliding indicate that he'd reached this level of fury before? He'd never known it as he had on this day.
After wading through Bettina's memories, he'd finally seen things he couldn't unsee. I did things I'd never undo.
He peered at the burlap bag at his feet and the plain black staff beside it. Think of something else, he told himself. The tournament began in minutes. Change the direction of your musings.
What else was there to think of besides Bettina? What else . . . ?
Ah, Dacia. My former home.
Would the Realm of Blood and Mist soon have a new king?