Page 62 of Besieger
“What are your conditions?” Silvio asked, his lips twisted in a forlorn smile as he spoke, one that vanished as quickly as it had formed.
He appeared suddenly tired; tired of the court’s demands and etiquette. They were always asking things of him: the Coven, the Council, Ingenuar. They kept dragging him away from whatever paradise he created for himself and his lover. Every servant sent to tend and clean theMarquis’ chambers had been dismissed. He wanted to be alone, answering only to Ingenuar’s call and command until it was time to go home.
“The same conditions that the All Father abode to—govern vampirekind,” Nhalme explained, gesturing to the whole room. He made it sound so easy, so simple. “Govern and reside in the Coven, appoint Regents, dismiss Regents. Surely Ingenuar had mentioned some of it in passing. The game of chess he and the mistresses have been playing.”
“His littletabulaboard, yes.” Silvio nodded in acknowledgement towards Penelope and Betül.
The two women did not appear to appreciate being referred to as pieces on a board game.
“But what makes you think I can keep the peace? I have no taste for gambling. Any traces of luck I may once have had were shed with my mortality.”
“It is said—” Betül began, and was immediately cut off by Penelope.
“You have been there,” her voice echoed in unspoken accusation, as if what Silvio had done were both shameful and wasteful. “You have been to theBasilissa’s court. It is said you and your consort have earned her favour.”
“I would not necessarily call it a favour. We were guests.”
Penelope’s face hardened and she continued to speak as if the Regent had not answered her.
“Afterwards, you ventured into the Ottoman Empire. Sought admission to the sultanate.”
“My consort likes to travel. He wanted to master seafaring. The route took us further down the Mediterranean than we intended.” As Silvio spoke, he bared his teeth, his upper lip curling to reveal the fangs. Whether he was annoyed by Penelope’s words or from something he remembered about the trip, Scarlett could not tell.
“So you have seen her?”
“Nhalme.” TheMarquisturned his head slowly and deliberately towards the man. There was something cruel in the way his mouth uttered the name,like a warning. “Is this how you treated your Father? Have you brought me here to answer at a trial of sorts?”
Her brother’s lips pressed into a thin line, the colour draining from his face. Scarlett did not need to read his mind to know what he was thinking—this whole arrangement was a mistake. The heir did not need such a hearing, they had already chosen him after all. Nhalme should have delivered the news and made the offer in private. Like Ingenuar used to do.
“You have heard our conditions. What are yours? What would it take?” Nhalme said instead.
Silvio appeared to think for a moment, his eyes travelled over each of them and then shifted slightly, as if he were studying the room. He ran the flats of his palms over the wood of the chair, lightly chewing on his lower lip.
“That you disband. No Council. NoMinistry of Shadows. I will rule with a Council of my choosing.” He lifted a hand, bidding Nhalme to be silent, as he went on. “You will be pleased to see the All Mother ruling by my side, I hope.”
“As consort?” Raffaelle frowned, looking at his fellows for confirmation that he had heard right.
“Ascounsellor,” Silvio corrected him, before turning back to Nhalme. “Emerick will take Béziers, as the newMarquis. He will retain his position as my consort.”
“A Coven Master and a Regent consort—” Betül’s grip on the chair’s armrests tightened, followed by the unmistakable sound of wood splintering under her fingers.
“Does the All Mother object?” Silvio’s green eyes fixed on Scarlett.
“You understand that Emerick will have no claim on Berlin. He is not meant to inherit,” she answered. “Subsequent Coven Masters, if it comes to that, will be chosen with a vote.” Her voice was steady as she spoke, meeting his gaze. “Emerick will also have to choose a newComte, if he is to be theMarquis.”
“Of course, if that is what he wants.”
Movement caught in the corner of her vision and Scarlett frowned glancing around the room. She could hear the sound of a car engine and the metal body of the vehicle moving outside along the driveway. The headlights crawled through the windows, illuminating the paintings and mirrors hanging on the walls. The light made them shimmer, and Silvio turned, following Scarlett’s gaze. A beat later his reflection in the mirror repeated the movement, and Scarlett had to suddenly force herself to look away. Nausea crept up her throat. The taste of smoke and fire flooded again her lungs, and she fought the urge to retch.
“It appears wordhasspread, brother. We will be having visitors in our Father’s wake.” August crossed his arms, leaning back into his seat. His smile was too gleeful.
“These are your conditions—the Council and Emerick?” Nhalme ignored his brother and looked at the Regent.
“A fair price.” Silvio smiled, still fixated on their reflections in the mirror.
He was not made to rule, your brother.
Silvio’s voice echoed in Scarlett’s head, so sudden and uninvited that she flinched. He had never done that to her before. No vampire dared trespass and demand such an intimacy of her; even Nhalme had always waited for her to offer it as a channel for their worries.
