Page 17 of Fallen Nocturne

“There is nothing you need to worry about right now,” he replies honestly. “Trust me, niece. The vampire is here to help.”

“Vampires don’t help. They take. They manipulate. They—”

“Have you ever actually met one?” Shade interrupts, then seems to catch himself. “I mean, Your Highness, have you ever personally interacted with a vampire?”

I frown, trying to remember. “I think so… I must have, at some point. But I can’t seem to...” I trail off, pressing fingers to my temple.

There’s a void in my memory, a strange blankness that makes my head ache when I try to remember.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t strain yourself,” Rainer suggests gently. “You’re still recovering from your injuries.”

There are so many gaps in my memory lately, like someone has taken scissors to the tapestry of my past and cut out random pieces.

Rainer returns to his newspaper while Shade tears a piece from his bacon and lowers his hand beneath the table. The wolf takes it delicately from his fingers without lifting his head. I watch him chew and wonder whether he understands what he has become. Does some part of him remember walking on two legs or speaking with an elven tongue? The curse has trapped him so completely that I cannot tell where the wolf ends and the half-elf begins. I do not even know where to begin unraveling magic this powerful. The failure weighs on me every time I look at him.

I find my gaze drawn once again to the window.

The vampire is looking this way.

Our eyes meet across the square, and something electric shoots through me. His gaze is intense, burning with emotion. My heart begins to race, and I have the inexplicable urge to go to him, to touch his face, to—

I jerk back from the window so fast I nearly knock over my tea.

Rainer lowers his paper again. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” I lie, my heart still pounding. “I just... thought I saw something.”

But when I risk another peek, the vampire has returned to his work, hammering at the metal as if nothing happened.

As if he hadn’t just looked at me like I was everything he’d ever wanted and everything he’d lost.

“I need some air,” I announce, standing abruptly.

“Would you like company?” Shade offers, already half-rising from his chair.

“No,” I say quickly. “I just need a moment alone.”

Rainer watches me with those too-knowing eyes of his.

“Don’t go far,” he says carefully.

My uncle has watched me this closely ever since I woke, as though looking away for even a moment might allow something else to happen to me. His protectiveness can be suffocating, but I cannot resent him for it. At least he has stopped reaching for a bottle whenever fear or anger gets the better of him. Somewhere during the long days of my recovery, Rainer stopped drinking. I noticed the change but said nothing. Some things do not need to be spoken aloud. I would rather endure his constant vigilance than watch him disappear into the bottom of a bottle again.

Out on the street, the morning air is cool and sharp. I tell myself I just need to walk to clear my head. There’s a market two streets over and the stalls are already busy, vendors calling out prices, the smell of fresh bread and cut flowers mixing with woodsmoke.

I stop at a fabric stall near the square’s edge. The merchant has bolts of silk in a dozen colors. I pick one up, running the material between my fingers and studying the weave as though its quality matters greatly to me.

I do not care at all about the fabric.

Across the square, the forge is open and already loud with work.

The Strigon moves with the quiet grace of a predator, even while doing something as ordinary as arranging his tools or feeding the forge. He is taller than most elves and built like a warrior, even with a blacksmith’s tools spread before him. I have never seen anything so dangerously beautiful.

What am I doing?

The thought surfaces, but I ignore it just as quickly. He’s examining a blade now, running his finger along the edge to test its sharpness. When it draws blood, he simply watches the wound seal in seconds. A small smile pulls at his mouth.

That smile does something to my insides.