Page 113 of Besieger
“Perhaps theMarquisshould be allowed to weigh in on this matter, master. Furthermore, he has not appointed aComtein the French territories. Without either of its sovereigns, that territory lies unstable.”
Not a triumvirate but a diarchy, Scarlett remembered Silvio had proclaimed the night they made him Master. A promise and a threat. He meant for the Coven to be ruled by both him and Emerick. Perhaps summoning Emerick was an attempt to restore order, a shimmer of lucidity. Surely whatever he was doing in Bulgaria could be set aside, or even cast away.
Silvio frowned at Kyrillos, eyes narrowed in contempt. His voice, when he spoke, was hard.
“I shall not tolerate my household plotting against me. If you choose to conspire with your mistress, then by all means assist in her travels, but seek no admittance to my chambers until her return.”
Kyrillos paled and opened his mouth to protest but Silvio waved him away, dismissing him like a bothersome fly.
“I trust you can find quarters for yourself among the other servants. Present yourself only when summoned, and not a moment sooner. Any correspondence or chores you need to pass along, have them delivered by a hall boy.”
It is for the best, Scarlett felt sorry for the mortal.Sooner or later he would have fallen out of favour with his master. Best to have it done before theMarquisreturns.
RAFFAELLE, 2017
The last meeting of the Council had dissolved into chaos and disgruntlement, but watching his sisters and brothers quarrel had given Raffaelle an idea.
“Can you shift into Gülsün?” he asked.
When Tabes arched an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, Raffaelle elaborated: “TheSultana?”
The demon mulled over the words, riffling through a mental catalogue of bodies and faces.
“Do you know what she looks like?” Raffaelle pressed when his servant remained silent, chewing his lip.
“Youdon’t know what she looks like.” Tabes shrugged, having scraped everything he could on the mistress from Raffaelle’s mind. “At least not the actual woman. You have anideaof her, a fantasy. But that could just as easily be any woman from Istanbul.”
“And if Betül asked you to shift into theSultana, can you do it?”
“Has Betül seen her? Without the veil, I mean?”
Raffaelle grunted. This was not going as he had hoped. Tabes was a shapeshifter, but his abilities were bound to the knowledge of the one who commanded him. He could not transform into a person his master had never seen. It was frustrating.
“Why the sudden request—are you in the mood for a woman? Tired of theComteand theMarquis?” Tabes made a poor attempt at hiding his glee.
“I shall be seeing plenty of theMarquiswithout having his double in my bed. No. It is time we changed allegiances.”
At the time, Raffaelle had thought Emerick would spend his nights at the Coven, seeing to matters on behalf of his maker, irritating Raffaelle with his presence. Oh, how wrong he had been. The newMarquishad vanished as soon as he was made Regent, and everyone suffered in his wake. There were times when Raffaelle entertained the thought of asking Tabes to shift into the man and have him haunt Silvio, like a spectre from a gothic novella.
Instead, he had Tabes remain as Silvio, so he could order the double around, make him bend and stand on his knees. Or better yet, crawl, and thank Raffaelle that his voice had helped this vile ascension. But Tabes made for a poor submissive Silvio—he was too eager, too willing. He enjoyed scurrying on the floor and grovelling suited him, the fantasy nurtured his demonic appetites.
The Council, for what it was worth, was gone. Betül made no secret of her plans to rejoin her mistress in the East, but only after she had gathered enough intelligence on their new Master and received a summons from theSultana.
Silvio might have disbanded them, yet they continued to gather among themselves, talking and sharing their observations of the ruin they had helped build.
“He is going room by room, even got rid of the butler and appointed another human in his stead.” Nhalme found it insulting, all their father’s work and legacy demolished in less than a night.
A servant… And Silvio keeps him in his bed, Raffaelle bit his tongue. He had come upon this little bit of scandal from Tabes. His pet demon had taken note of Kyrillos’s sudden change in routine, and lent an ear to the staff’s whispers about it. Kyrillos’s new position seemed to elate the demon.
“He is ripe with desperation,” Tabes chirped. “When I grow tired of you, I will replace you with the human…if Silvio leaves enough of him for a meal.”
Raffaelle chose to ignore the jibe about his replicability and focused instead on the matter at hand. He wanted the specifics of what their master intended to do with Kyrillos, but Tabes’ lips puckered in a devilish smile as he tried to suppress a volley of giggles. Raffaelle huffed and changed the subject. The imp owed him no loyalty.
A change he had not foreseen, and one that suited him just fine, was Dulior’s absence from court. Neither she nor her husband had shown their faces since the ascension.
“Shunned from the thresholds of Béziers, and now Berlin,” Penelope tsked.
“Silvio allowed her to stay in Paris, as long as she didn’t impose upon him. There are many vampires who live in solitude and are not aligned with a Coven. She is a capable woman,” August offered, carefully avoiding the question of why he had never sought to join the French Coven. Raffaelle had visited the place once and found it stimulating.
