The King's War

3. The Delegation

I nodded, understanding. Sabine had endured a humbling amount of trauma as a result of her little trip. Her therapy bills were going to be expensive. "You want me to house her in the palace?"

"Her and the Sinclair boy. She won't like being back in Rosethorne Hall, but it's the safest place for her to be. Maybe with him around she won't be as... well, you've seen."

The boy in question was Tristan Sinclair, Sabine's new boyfriend and Sheridan's last living descendant, whom I had yet to meet. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that Sheridan was able to have something most vampires did not — a real family. Hell, a whole dynasty.

I'd left behind my mother and father when I sailed to New York in 1855. I couldn't even remember their faces anymore. I used to write to them, but I stopped after I was turned. I'd cut off contact from everyone I knew before that fateful night.

Not that I resented Balthazar for saving my life, far from it. But abandoning everything and everyone from my human life was something I'd always resented. One of the biggest reasons I advocated so strongly for the war — for there was no way for my kind to expose ourselves to humans without war — was so that newly turned vampires wouldn't have to suffer through the same abandonment, the same isolation.

I turned back to James, having to jog my memory for the subject of our conversation. "I'm sure I can arrange something."

Granted, I was far from thrilled about having Sabine Ambrose living in my palace. Something would have to be done to ensure she and Avery didn't butt heads. But I liked the idea of having her used by enterprising witch-hunters even less. Who knew, maybe with the competition behind her and a new man at her side she'd be far more palatable to the taste.

"Thank you. I appreciate it more than you know," James said, his tone more tired and resigned than grateful.

"It's no trouble," I replied. "Now, tell me everything you can about Queen Amelia. I want to be prepared for my next meeting."

⤞❖⤝

With our business concluded, James and I made our way over to the cabinet room. It was at the end of the east wing, directly underneath my office, on the second floor. All of the remaining dukes were present and seated around the oval table that dominated the room, leaving an empty space for me at the head, and one to my left for the anticipated delegation. Melanie was present as well, and likely had been the first person to arrive. Her desk, upon which she took diligent notes of all of my meetings, was in the corner behind me. They all stood and bowed as I entered.

I acknowledged them with a nod and sat down in my usual seat. James made his way to a vacant spot between Balthazar and Jeffrey Hawkins, the Duke of Columbia. Balthazar sat directly at my right, the significance of his position not lost on anyone.

I stole a brief glance out the window. I'd placed this room in it's location strategically, thinking that a blissful view of the palace gardens and the sea beyond would lift my spirits whenever I found myself stuck in a particularly difficult meeting. Alas, I still couldn't help but feel like I'd rather be anywhere else tonight. Such was the burden of power, I suppose. I nodded for Melanie to start with her notetaking.

"Today we need to discuss the situation in the South. Duke Aldridge has already shared his account with me, but I'd like to hear anything else that either of you may have learned." I turned to Balthazar. "Duke Hale, I understand you paid a visit there yourself."

Balthazar nodded. "They've relocated the capitol to Atlanta, and Gregory Sinclair is acting as regent in the interim."

I wasn't all that familiar with the man except that he'd gotten his position as Duke through Sinclair family nepotism. "I understand Queen Amelia accompanied you on the trip back." I wasn't exactly pleased to learn that Balthazar had left his post after I'd put him in charge in my absence, but I trusted that he knew what he was doing.