In the week since Keel told me of the sorcerers' declaration of war, I'd seen little of him. Between readying the Nosferatu troops, hastening the packing and shipping of the museum's contents and other vampire valuables, and conferring with nearby enclaves, there was little time left for anything else, including me. When he was around, he didn't want to talk, do magic or even kiss; he was alternately drained and preoccupied, worried and short-tempered. Nothing like the king he'd been when he'd been making bets with me in the arena.
We're going to be magnificent, Mildred. Whatever happened to that? I wondered. Whenever I tried to draw him out, he'd retreat to the surveillance room, where I didn't dare follow him.
I had no idea what was happening with the coming war, but nothing about his behaviour led me to believe it was good. I'd have asked my father for updates, but he'd pulled a similar disappearing act. Even Arthos' visits became infrequent. I could still count on Ankor, but he knew even less about what was going on than I did. The feelings of frustration, helplessness and impending doom conspired against me, so I shut them down whenever I could. Sometimes with Ankor's blood and sometimes by standing on the roof of the storage facility in the middle of the night and screaming until my throat felt as if it would tear itself to threads. Catharsis proved in short supply, however.
When Keel showed up in the royal chambers midway through the night about a week later, I was shocked. I'd grown used to him leaving as soon as the sun set and not appearing until after it rose, this unscheduled visit sent a flutter of panic through my stomach. What had happened now? Only something terrible would tear him away from business of war.
That's when I noticed the largish box in his hands. It appeared to be a present, though whatever the hell Keel had wrapped it in didn't look anything like gift wrap. Rather, it had the weight and texture of commercial-grade parcel paper.
"Well, at least after ignoring me for a week you have the sense to show up with a present," I joked.
Keel frowned.
"Not a present?"
"No." The seriousness of his tone matched the stiffness of his shoulders.
"What is it then?"
"The first part of a new treatise."
"That's a really big box for a piece of paper."
"It's not a piece of paper," Keel said as he yanked the tape off one end and removed the brown wrapping to reveal a white box beneath. "Close your eyes."
"What? No! I want to see," I protested.
He carried the box to the dining table, near where I was standing, and set it down. "I thought you trusted me?"
"Hell no," I said, half-joking, even though it felt wrong to do it when death was just fourteen days from marching and I didn't feel any more prepared now than when I'd first heard the news. But Keel was here and talking to me, and I hadn't realized how much I missed his presence until five minutes before when he'd come crashing back into my world with his mysterious box.
"Okay, maybe you shouldn't," he admitted, "but I still want you to close your eyes."
"Yes, fine, okay," I said and scrunched my eyelids shut, just wanting him to get on with it. What the hell was in the box?
I listened as Keel tore the tape that held that the lid in place. That sound was followed by the gentle rustle of the lid lifting up and away. More crinkling noises, and then something hard and heavy landed on my head. Something that felt like a-
Oh my god, what the hell is this? I thought, as the fluttering in my stomach wound itself into a F5 tornado. Magic bubbled up under my palms. Very nice, Mills, always fight, never flight.
I cracked my eyelids open a bit. Keel was holding a mirror in front of my face.
I was wearing a crown. I couldn't see the details of it because the ensuing panic attack blurred my vision, and I thought I might faint. Then Keel's hand closed on my arm, steadying me. Wave after wave of calm washed through the bond until the dizzy spell passed.
I turned to him, my mouth opening to unleash my first question. "No Mildred," he said, bringing his finger to my lips. "Not until you speak with your father."
"But-"
Keel turned his back on me and proceeded across the room. He opened the door, where my father was waiting outside. He stepped out and Ephraim stepped in, closing the door behind him.
As his eyes fell on me, he took in the thing on my head. "The jewels suit you," he said, backing up his compliment with a smile both warm and genuine.
"What's the meaning of this?" I raised my hands to remove the crown and set it down beside me on table, refusing to give it a further look. Sure that if I did, the panic attack Keel had helped me fend off moments before would overtake me in milliseconds.
Ephraim took a seat at the table and motioned for me to join him. "It means it's time to make a decision."
"And what does that mean exactly?"
"Has His Majesty told you anything about the contract we signed?"
"No, every time I bring it up, he insists I talk to you."
"Impressive. I mostly added the non-disclosure stipulations to find out what type of Nosferatu your king is and consider me surprised once again," Ephraim said. He'd scooped up the crown and was examining it. I, in turn, examined the grain of the table. "Several of the clauses are rather sensitive in nature, and I thought for sure he'd-"
"Enlighten me? Not a chance. Thanks for that by the way. Really helped with the recovery."
"I think once we've had a chance to talk you'll understand why I wanted to wait."
"Okay, so talk."
"As you know, now that a formal declaration of war has been made it's only a matter of time before the place we're sitting becomes the front lines of a battle. What you don't know is that after you left New York, I was contacted by several factions of sorcerers who felt that your bond with the king should be studied instead of outright condemned. They see it as a way that sorcerers and Nosferatu could find some common ground after centuries of hostilities, a commonality of interests moving forward if you will."
"The League would never agree."
Ephraim set the crown down between us, its rubies refracting tiny red globules of light around the room. "Of course not, but these sorcerers would be willing to openly support the Nosferatu in this conflict, and the optics on that should bring the weres to the table, if not some of the other supes as well. The separatist movement has been the prevailing one for centuries, but that's not to say it's still the best one for today's world. That said, you must understand that while humans rush into change - be it social or technological - most supernaturals fear it. It lies at the root of all the Extinction Day stories we're told as children. But some of us have begun to realize that if Extinction Day ever happens, we'll need to be united in order to survive the human onslaught, not fighting or lording over each other."
"And this crown has to do with that?"
"Yes, these sorcerer factions will join our side if a gesture of goodwill is made in joining our two disparate supernatural communities. One that ensures we are represented equally in whatever talks advance in the future."
"What kind of a symbol?" I asked, but I already knew. There were only so many things a crown could mean.
"A marriage. A shared throne."
I reached out and shoved the headpiece further away from me. "No."
My father stared across the table with a sadness that tore at my heart. "Who are you waiting for, sweetheart? You are bonded to a vampire, you need their blood to live and probably always will. I see the way he looks at you, do you think he will ever allow another between you two? Do the right thing, take the allies and the crown. Rise and be his equal in every way that matters. Try to change the world."
But it wasn't just the arranged marriage that was bothering me. "How long has this stipulation been part of your agreement?"
"Since the beginning, but only if war forced our hand."
"He doesn't love me," I said, knowing I'd raised this point to Ephraim before but it suddenly felt more urgent that he understood. Really understood.
"Maybe not. But you don't give him enough credit," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"I understand that you've studied Nosferatu history and culture, have you ever read of any of them fraternizing with one of us as the king does with you?"
"No."
"Does he beat you?"
"Not si-" I said, remembering when I first arrived.
"Does he tear you to pieces when he drinks your blood?"
"Dad!"
"Does he force himself on you?"
"Dad!"
"Does he listen when you speak?"
Now I was staring at him.
"Is he ever kind?"
I thought of the ornate bookshelf back at my old apartment, the translated sorcery books, the necklace I still wore around my neck everyday, all the times he'd tried to show me that we were bigger than the bond's desires. And how he'd listened to everyone's advice and took me to the movies. And those kisses. Those incredible, mind-melting kisses.
"Consider this an opportunity," Ephraim said. "No sorcerer - or woman, for that matter - has ever shared a throne with a Nosferatu king."
"But the bond-"
"Will align into its final formation, and become a key asset in our defense." He said it such a perfunctory manner I wanted to ask if he realized what we were talking about, but the hard look on his face told me everything I needed to know.
"What if that isn't enough? What if duty isn't enough to keep it- to keep us from being corrupted?"
"That's all you feel for him? Duty?"
"No, not exactly," I confessed. Things had been changing, but jumping from first date to first fight to makeup kisses to marriage seemed hasty. "But-"
"This isn't what I wanted for you either, Mildred, but we must oppose the League of Sorcerers, we can not let them get away with a preemptive strike." His expression softened again and he extended a hand across the table to take mine. "The precedent it would set would rattle its way through the supernatural world for years. There would be more uprisings. It wouldn't end with the sorcerers and the Nosferatu." My father sounded scared, which was frightening in itself. "Instability causes cracks, cracks lead to-"
"Extinction Day," I said, bringing our conversation back around to where it had started. "Then why are the sorcerers doing this? Don't they know?"
"They think the threat of you and him outweighs the risks."
"But we haven't done anything," I protested.
"And that is why we must fight. And why we must take allies wherever we find them."
I took a deep breath. We did need allies. We needed them more than anything in the world. "Okay, I'll marry him," I said.
Ephraim looked relieved and heartbroken at the same time. It added another ten years to his face. "Don't forget humans have been marrying to save kingdoms and countries for centuries, you'll be joining a long and storied tradition."
"If that's what you want to call it," I said. "Now are you going to tell him or am I?"
My father told him.
When Keel came back into the suite I could barely look at him. Ephraim had made some compelling arguments but my brain remained stuck on the stickiest bit.
"Thank you," he said. I heard none of the gloating I'd expected in his tone, but that didn't mean he wasn't feeling it. His grand triumph. The acquisition of his greatest prize. My skin prickled, but I forced myself to smile.
Keel wasn't fooled by this window dressing. "This is why I didn't tell you myself, I was expecting a reaction like this."
He walked over to where I was still sitting at the table and placed his hands on my shoulders and all I could think of was how those hands would soon be all over me, chilling my skin, and taking what they wanted. The thought birthed a fresh batch of conflicted feelings. Anticipation and fear danced across my nerve endings before tangling with something darker and less forgiving. He'd known for months now that no real persuasion was necessary; he and my father and a bunch of nameless sorcerers had already taken care of that behind-the-scenes, without bothering to clue me in. I shuddered, my fury becoming physical, becoming manifest. In response, Keel's fingers shifted, pushing themselves into the knots and tension that had taken root in my shoulders and back over the past week. I wanted to pull away, maintain the offensive, but it felt amazing. Keel wasn't even sending anything through our connection; he was undoing me with his hands alone.
"He didn't tell you," he said.
"Tell me what?"
"The marriage clause was his."
I spun around in the chair. "What? I don't believe you. He would never!"
Keel held up his palms. "I may omit things, obfuscate, but I do not lie to you. Should I call him back in here so you can ask him yourself?"
I shook my head. "No, I believe you." But believing and understanding were two separate things and the betrayal felt like an arrow through my chest, piercing and absolute.
"He wants to protect you," Keel explained. "And he wants to protect the world."
"You make it sound so noble."
"It is noble! Every treaty ever signed between Nosferatu and sorcerers has only served to continue segregation and reinforce the centuries-old hostilities between our kinds. This will invite all friendly parties to the table. And you and I will sit at the head of it."
"That's not all it will do."
"War changes many things, Mildred."
"Apparently," I said, manically straightening the room in a losing battle with my temper. "But here's the thing: you knew, you knew from the moment you and my father saved me and you never told me."
"It wasn't written in stone then; no terms had been etched out with the sorcerers. That didn't happen until this past week. Even then, it might have fallen through and made that part of the contract null and void. Then what would have been the point of you knowing? More anger?"
"But you knew long before now." Why didn't anyone understand how much the secrets stung?
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you tell me? If not two months ago, then why not last week?"
"I wanted to. I even got permission from your father to do so."
"He didn't tell me that." I was still moving around the room, refusing to let Keel get close to me. I didn't need the bond messing with my head right now. "When?"
"The night I took you to the movie, but you hadn't been adjusting well, not to the Nosferatu cells or to our world, and we'd been fighting again, so I decided against it. I was trying to give you time. I was hoping you'd see the importance of finishing what we'd started before it became a necessity. But we're out of time. The League will be deploying its troops in days."
"I said yes, didn't I? I've got consent written across my body and now it's been uttered out loud. You have everything you want."
Anger furrowed Keel's brow. "No, I don't."
"Well, in just a few days then, right?"
"Come with me," he said, walking towards the door to the throne room.
We stopped in front of the steps that led up to the hulking monstrosity of a chair. The empty-socketed human skulls stared blankly at us.
"Go, sit on it."
"What?"
"Take a seat."
"No way, I know what that thing's made of." The skulls were only the beginning of the horrors that comprised the Nosferatu throne.
"You touch book covers with histories just as sordid every single day."
Once upon a time I'd known that, and had forgotten, or had simply craved knowledge and something to do enough to block it out. I looked down at my hands, feeling compelled to rub them on my pants. Keel caught them before I could do so.
"Remember that thing I told you about having too much fear, this is one of those moments. You're equating every single thing that's to come for us to that chair, but it's just a chair. Now, please, go sit in it."
I wobbled up the steps and plunked my butt down on the skins of god-only-knows-how-many dead people/creatures and looked out over the room. I could see every corner of it. No wonder Keel liked it up here.
"You're the first sorcerer to ever sit in that," he said. "And you'll be the first sorcerer in history to lead a Nosferatu enclave, the first female. I know you've already agreed to this - and I am grateful for that - but please don't let it be something that's done to you. Do this with me, at my side, as my partner."
"What about the Argarast crypt, does Ephraim know about that? Does he know what happens there?"
Keel nodded. "It's something kings do, Mildred, not just my bloodline. It's tradition and happens all over the world."
"Will we have to?"
"Are you ready to give me an heir?"
I shook my head.
"Then that's your answer."
"So we'll use protection?"
"Not during the consummation, but after, if that's what you want."
"So we might still..."
"There's a possibility, but the consummation has to be complete."
"And the bond."
"And the bond too."
I leaned back in the throne. Here they were, the terms of the end game, and the decision they required. Make love or war, and there was too much war already. War is what got us here in the first place.
"Will you kiss me like you did the last time we were here together?"
"I'll never stop," he promised, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
"But you'll never love me either." I don't know why I said it, but it spilled from my lips before I could stop it.
"Not as humans do." The butterflies wilted and turned to dust as fast as they took flight, poisoned by reality. Keel walked up the steps and used a finger to tilt my chin towards him. "But remember, it doesn't have to be awful."
I stood up. "Remind me," I said, and he did with a kiss that started with both of our feet on the ground and ended with me straddling the king on the throne, fingers splayed across his chest.
"I bet a sorceress has never sat on this throne like this either," I said when my lips were once again my own.
A low laugh erupted from Keel and he leaned forward to whisper his next words against my mouth like a prayer. "Lead with me, Mildred."
I pulled back. "I don't have your charisma. And I have far too much conscience for your world."
"Maybe it could use a bit more conscience."
"What good is conscience in the compound?"
"Didn't your father tell you? After our union, we're going to topside to meet the sorcerers to ratify the treatise."
"I know even less about sorcerers, Your Majesty. The only one I've ever met is Ephraim."
"But you know topside. And you know me."
Both those things were true. The first more than the second.
"I want you to answer a question first," I said.
"I'll try."
"Why did you start calling me Mildred after the shooting?"
Keel frowned.
"Why don't you like me asking about this? Is it in the contract?"
"It was one of your father's terms," he admitted.
"Why not Mills?"
"I insisted. That's what he called you, and I didn't want to cause you any further confusion about who I was."
"But when you wore the green contacts, you left them in when you-"
"Half-true. I'd have removed them had you asked. But I admit I liked the way you looked at me when I wore them. "
"All right, fine, but you know I kind of hate Mildred, right?"
"It's your name."
Now I was frowning too.
"Don't worry," Keel went on. "Soon, you'll only hear it from me. To everyone else, you'll lose your name, as I have." I hadn't even thought of that; with a crown and a marriage, also came a title.
"Now, will Her soon-to-be Majesty lead with me or will I be forced to enact your worst fears and mine?" It was clear from his question that he knew exactly what I'd looked at when he'd let me inside his head.
"Okay, Keel," I said, refusing to call him by his honorific in this moment. "I'll be your queen."
He dropped his forehead to mine, a tidal wave of relief flowing through the bond. "Long live the queen," he whispered, before drawing me in for another kiss.