Prince of Lies [COMPLETED]

Chapter 46

Saebane rose from the banquet table and raised his glass. "She did it. She made Adora rain with blood. And the stories I heard—the absolute ruthlessness of it all. I couldn't be prouder of you."

The men chanted with approval, but Arabella didn't open her eyes, her jaw balancing on her knuckle as her elbow rested on the armrest.

"She looks positively peaked," Beatrice said, sympathy in her voice.

"Yes," Frederick agreed, his meal untouched before him. "After all that bloodshed, you would be peaked also."

Beatrice blinked at him. "You sound ... what is it you're feeling, Frederick? Are you not happy about Thescan's victory today?"

He clenched his jaw. He hated this shell that spoke like his sister, sounded like his sister, but was nothing like his sister. "Be silent, will you?"

Rycard reached for Beatrice's hand and gave it a squeeze, and they both shared a small look. Every time Frederick saw them together, it made him want to throttle Rycard until his eyes bled out of his face. But he couldn't afford to waste his energy on either of them. Let the Mad King enjoy the corpse. It wasn't really his sister. Arabella was still alive, and between her and the problems of Thescan, all his thoughts were occupied.

Urnald sat across from Frederick and wisely said nothing, his dinner also untouched before him.

Saebane clapped his hands. "And the cunning which you displayed today—"

Arabella's growl cut through his words. "How you do go on, Saebane. I'm sure everyone is starving so let them enjoy their meal in peace. And by the gods, someone keep the wine pouring and do not ever let it stop."

"Ah, and I shall cease in just a second, my love. For our men have been kind enough to bring back a special treat for you."

Arabella rubbed her temples in slow and deliberate circles, refusing to open her eyes. "Oh?"

"Bring it in!" Saebane commanded.

The doors opened, and a woman with a rope around her neck was jerked into the room. It took all of Frederick's restraint not to bolt from his seat. It was one of Queen Vellore's serving women. One of the women who tried to get her inconsolable daughter under control.

"And what is this?" Arabella drawled, surveying the woman through tired eyes. "She looks familiar."

"A serving woman who served under Queen Vellore herself," Saebane said, swirling his finger around the rim of his goblet. "Odgar was kind enough to round up several of them who tried to flee in the castle tunnels. Just imagine the secrets they all hold. And this one is particularly special as she is a virgin. You used to love drinking from virgin vein back in the old world. I present this one as offering to you tonight for nourishment."

Frederick's blood ran cold. The thought of Arabella—Aide—as some spiteful goddess drinking virgin sacrifices ...

"Odgar, was it?" Arabella said low. "Then Odgar has defied me for the last time."

And then she moved fast. Gone like ash in the wind. Black smearing through the world.

A terrible cry reverberated through the stone, followed by the sound of wet flesh rending. Frederick was slow to realize what was happening until it finished.

The vampyre who had questioned her in Adora lay in a bloody, torn heap on the floor, his lower portion bleeding like a volcano. Frederick shivered when he realized what was stuffed in his gaping mouth. Disgusted groans sounded from all around the room as the other men in attendance realized it, too.

"Good gods," Urnald breathed. "Beatrice, look away."

Beatrice folded her hands in her lap and complied.