House of Secrets and Vows (Crown of Deceit #1)

2. The Blood King

2

THE BLOOD KING

T he Prince of Valazica, soon to be named heir to the throne, has joined the House of Blood. I still can't wrap my mind around the secret he shared.

Aella tilts her head back as she sips a mug of mead, her slender hands delicately gripping the handle. “I can’t believe Priestess Lana chose you to hear the prince’s confession.”

Amusement dances in her eyes as she wipes the drop of mead sliding down her chin.

Everything about her is elegant and graceful. Her chestnut hair falls in perfect waves over one of her shoulders as she stares at me with her usual wise-beyond-her-years gaze.

“Gee, thanks for the confidence in me.” I feign a wounded glare.

The Silver Lady tavern is slower than usual tonight, with only one barmaid on shift. Her thick, fire-red curls bounce as she hops from table to table, seamlessly switching from taking orders to delivering food and drinks.

I sip my mead, savoring its sweet mulberry tingle.

While wine is allowed at the Temple on each Solstice to honor the Goddess Mina, all other liquor is forbidden, making it all the more enjoyable now. Another reason I’m so grateful for the concealed nature of being a priestess. No one outside of the other priestesses knows what I look like, and unless they have their own secrets to hide, they won’t be found in a place like this tavern.

“Hello…” Aella waves her hand in front of my face. “Where did my best friend go?”

I blink, my focus settling back on the tavern around me. “Sorry.”

Chatter from the other patrons fills the room, a roar of drunken laughter booming behind me as I steer my attention back to reality.

“Must have been some confession,” Aella says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such a daze.”

“It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

It hadn’t taken long for everyone in the Temple to hear of the prince’s visit or that I’d been blessed with the honor of receiving his confession. If I had any sleep last night, maybe I’d have been able to lure more information from him. Based on our brief conversation, he hadn’t seemed overjoyed about his newfound alliance with the group. Thanks to my Priestess Vow, I sensed the regret he radiated.

But with his clear indifference to the gods, why did he bother coming to the Temple to confess?

Aella runs her slender finger around the smooth edge of her mug. “What were you expecting?”

“Honestly, something inconsequential.” My chest muscles constrict at my words. Thanks to the magic of the Priestess Vow, speaking of a confessed secret is risky. Saying anything else would be juggling flame, so I change the subject. “So, do you think Alabek will show up tonight?”

Aella shrugs. “He hasn’t come in the last three nights.”

Before I left the Temple earlier, I took a moment in my room to settle my racing thoughts of the prince’s confession. Then I found Aella, and as soon as the other priestesses settled in for the night, we snuck away, heading straight to the resistance house closest to the Temple.

Felix, the resistance leader, was there, and when I shared with him the news that Prince Nevan would soon be named heir, he thanked me but told me he already knew. Then he sent Aella and me out again to find Alabek, owner of a chain of gambling halls spread throughout Valazica.

I reach into my jacket pocket and trace my nails over the folded note from Felix, sealed with his personal stamp, for Alabek’s eyes only.

If anyone finds me with the envelope, I’ll be thrown into a dungeon as a rebel without a trial.

Every mission I take is a risk, but everything the group does is for the betterment of common Valazicans. We can’t help everyone, at least not yet, but some people go to bed with food in their stomachs who would otherwise starve. Others are given blankets to shelter from the harsh conditions or warned before the royal guard arrests them under unjust charges.

When I first came to Valazica, I felt like an outsider who didn’t belong. But the resistance has given me a purpose I never thought I’d find.

A swell of laughter snatches my attention to the group of middle-aged men huddled over a dice game at the table closest to the bar, their hooting and banter occasionally rising above the ambient noise. Nearby, a young couple sits transfixed, their stares locked into an unwavering gaze, unphased by the boisterous men.

“Still mad at Felix?” Aella asks.

A strand of hair falls onto her face as she rests her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand then discreetly scans the room.

“No,” I lie.

She presses me with a raised brow.

“I’m more useful than being a messenger,” I add, “ We’re capable of more. This assignment has been so…boring.”

“Boring isn’t always bad, you know?” She taps her finger on the table. “I asked Felix if we could have a break from the more intense assignments.”

“You did?” Why hadn’t she told me?

“After I returned from the Winter Solstice, I wanted a little rest from all the intensity. It’s wearing at times.”

My teeth gently scrape the inside of my cheek, suddenly aware that it’s always me who pushes for more dangerous assignments. “I thought I’d done something to piss him off.”

“You know, he trusts you more than almost anyone else.” Aella glances behind her as the bell hung on the door chimes. “He didn’t even consider handing me the letter.”

I wait until my friend’s attention settles back on me, signaling the newcomer isn’t Alabek. “I’m sure he considered it.”

“He also doesn’t look at anyone like he looks at you.” Her rose-colored lips twist into a knowing half grin.

I can’t even deny it. What started out as occasional flirting toward me has recently shifted into something else. “Maybe in a different world, I’d pursue it, but the second we cross any line, I’ll be labeled as fucking my way to the top. I have no desire for my work to be diminished over a pretty face.”

“It is a pretty face.” My friend’s grin deepens.

At the thought of pretty faces, Prince Nevan pops into my mind. The depth to his piercing gaze... and that voice of his.

Gods, I clearly am in desperate need of sleep.

“What do you know of the other houses?” I ask. When I notice Aella’s confusion at the sudden change of subject, I add, “Felix mentioned seeking new alliances. Maybe some of the other Houses would be a good start.”

Though I just need an excuse to explain the context of my out-of-the-blue question, Felix did mention the need for new alliances last week. And now that I think about it, the Houses of Valazica hold the kind of power we need if we ever want to make an actual difference in the kingdom.

Aella tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and glances at the two giggling women strutting past our table.

“The Houses are all unique. Rumor has it that the House of Lies already allies with the crown. The House of Whispers works for the highest bidder. Same with the House of Shadow.” She pauses for another drink. “The House of Desire seems to only work for itself.”

I dig the tip of a fingernail into my thigh, hoping to hide my impatience for her to get to the House I actually care about. “The House of Secrets keeps its allegiance hidden”

Fitting for a group of secret keepers, I suppose. Though, as priestesses, Aella and I fall under the umbrella of the House, neither of us is high enough up to know its inner workings.

“Yes, though I’m sure if we dug a little, we could learn where its fealty lies.” Aella eyes the door again. “It seems Priestess Lana is taking a liking to you.”

I scoff, ignoring the preposterousness of the thought. Priestess Lana likes no one, least of all me. Why she chose me today, I’ll never know.

“And the House of Blood?” My heart thuds in my chest at the thought of the kingdom falling into the hands of monsters.

I’ve gathered plenty of tidbits about the other Houses through resistance assignments and confessions, but Aella was born in the kingdom and could know information I don’t, and I’m desperate to learn all I can about the prince’s new alliance.

Her gaze falls to her hands resting on the table. “It serves no one but Malikar, God of Blood and Destruction. I’ve heard they throw torture parties just for a laugh.”

I'm suddenly thankful I skipped dinner. I knew the House was dark, but it’s worse than I initially imagined.

When I don’t ask any more questions, Aella changes the subject to Temple gossip, and I give well-timed nods to feign my attention while my racing thoughts wander.

The Prince of Valazica is a member of the House of Blood... I pray to no one in particular that I might wake up, that this is all a nightmare.

The resistance has been working against the crown for over a century, long before I joined, never doing much to make any permanent changes. But through the web of people who hate how the crown rules, some lives have been spared, at least. But if the House of Blood takes hold of that much power, there won’t be much we can do to fight against it. Not when there is so little known about the cruel house.

I reel my attention back to Aella just as she asks if I think the prince was handsome.

Before I can answer, she pauses and stares at the door. “He’s here.”

The prince’s face flashes in my mind until I see Alabek stroll right by our table.

“The bastard finally shows up.” I feel for the letter hidden inside my jacket. “Let’s get this over with so we can go back to the Temple and sleep.”

“You go,” Aella says. “I’ll wait here.”

I weave in and out of scattered tables where a few solitary patrons nurse their drinks in quiet contemplation, then slide into the seat next to Alabek in the back of the tavern.

A cloak hangs over his broad shoulders, a golden pin with a snake emblem locking the top of the fabric in place. He’s old enough to be my father, with streaks of silver sprinkled through his chestnut hair.

“I’ve seen you before.” He doesn’t seem bothered by my intrusion, as if he is used to strangers approaching him.

“I’m a friend of Felix’s.”

“Ahh, yes. Felix.”

“He’s been trying to reach you.”

“Is that so?” He unpins his cloak and lets it slide off one shoulder before pulling it off and setting it on the back of his chair.

I slip out the letter with the burned-orange seal facing Alabek and hand it to him.

He sets it on the table. “That all you need?”

“I’m not sure what that says, but I’ve spent the last three nights without sleep to make sure you got it, so you better fucking read it.” I meet his stare, amusement dancing behind his eyes. “ Now .”

If my entire assignment is delivering a letter, I'm damn well going to make sure it gets read.

“Bossy,” he says, sliding the envelope off the table and breaking the seal. “I bet Felix likes you.”

“I’m quite likable.” I cross my arms and lean back in my seat. I'm not as endearing or serene as Aella, but usually, I choose a more charming approach. A well-timed smile and flirty quip can go a long way. But the lack of sleep and newfound knowledge of the prince have me impatient and, quite frankly, moody.

Slow as melting snow, he removes the letter and reads it. At first, he hums and haws as if putting on some show, but soon, his eyes narrow, and his brow furrows. A cursed mumble lets me know he doesn’t like whatever Felix has said.

Alabek hovers the letter over the candle lit in the middle of the table and lets the paper burn. “Tell Felix I’ll consider it.”

“That’s it?” I resist asking what the letter said. If Felix wants me to know, he’ll tell me.

“Your voice is so familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Before I can respond, the doors of the tavern burst open, and a male voice says, “Fellow Valazicans. I am so sorry I’ve kept you waiting.”

I turn to see a man dressed in all black with platinum hair and crimson eyes saunter into the tavern, a lethal bright-teethed grin spreading across his face.

I tense as instinct screams at me to run.

“Fuck.” Alabek slides out the dagger sheathed at his side and grabs his cloak from the back of the chair.

The crimson-eyed man raises his hands and scans the room with a feline grin. “I’ve brought some friends to make up for my tardiness.”

Six others enter, three males and three females. None have red eyes, but all exude some type of otherness. Two have skin so pale it appears nearly translucent. One is as burly as a bear, thick muscle rippling his arms and neck. The others are lovely in a way I can’t describe as anything other than lethal.

The sheer eagerness on all their faces sends a chill skittering through my bones, and I curse under my breath, certain things can’t get much worse.

But then Prince Nevan steps into the room.

My panic deepens as I look straight at Aella, who sits only feet from the door.

When our eyes meet, my stomach turns, and I hold my abdomen, resisting the urge to vomit the mug of mead I drank. My heartbeat thrums, frantic.

We chose the conspicuous spot so we wouldn’t miss Alabek’s arrival, but now there’s no chance my friend can move without being noticed.

The group I can only assume is part of the House of Blood stands between us. There’s no way to get to Aella without drawing too much attention to us both.

“There’s an exit in the back. If we’re quick, we can escape.” Alabek’s voice is barely above a whisper.

I can’t pull my terrified gaze from Aella as a staccato of curse words pulses through my mind.

Aella’s forearms rest on the table, her expression neutral.

“Well, how rude am I?” the crimson-eyed man says. “I always seem to forget formalities. I’m Mavet, proud founding member of the House of Blood. Some of you might know me as The Blood King.”

He grins at the men who had been playing dice.

No. This can’t be happening. In my rush to tell Felix about Prince Nevan’s soon-to-be title of heir, I didn’t pack any weapons. I hadn’t expected to be out tonight, or that the simple task of delivering a letter would turn into this.

Alabek leans toward me, his breath hot on my ear. “Once the commotion starts, we have to sprint out the back door.”

“But…” I don’t move, my mouth suddenly bone dry. I don’t even dare breathe as he reaches for me.

He grips my shaking forearm beneath the table. “You can’t help her.”

I hear his words, but I don’t accept them.

I can’t just leave Aella. Not with them.

Why didn’t I remember a dagger? Not that it would have helped much against a group this large, but at least I wouldn’t feel so fucking helpless. My heart races so fast in my tight chest that I think it might burst out from behind my ribcage.

Mavet grins at the young couple whose hands are clasped tight as they hold each other across the table.

“We have a new member to initiate.” His attention moves to the prince, who stares at the ground, fists clenched and jaw tight. “Any volunteers?”

Mavet glances to one side of the room and slowly shifts his predatory gaze to the other until his stare fixates on a lean man.

Fear washes over the man’s face, his complexion a deathlike pallor.

I look back at Aella.

“Go,” she mouths again. “I’ll be fine.”

Alabek squeezes my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Are you ready?”

I grind my teeth, desperate to think of something else I can do. Anything to get Aella over here so she can escape with us before whatever Mavet has planned begins.

“No volunteers?” The Blood King shrugs. “Then I guess tonight’s an open buffet, everyone.”

The woman to his right lunges forward and snarls at the lean male, accentuating her lengthened incisors that come to a sharp point.

Mavet’s stare settles upon Aella.

No , the thought screams in my mind, but I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe as he smiles at my friend. “You’ll do.”

Aella pries her eyes from mine as he saunters to her.

Nausea rolls through me as he grips her arm with a forceful yank, pulling her from her seat.

He runs the back of his hand down her face. “So lovely.”

I clench my jaw so hard pain ripples up my cheekbones.

“You smell delicious.” Mavet practically purrs as he tugs Aella toward the prince.

“You won’t save her,” Alabek whispers in my ear.

He is right. Damn him. There is nothing I can do, no matter how much I wish I could. Wishes are as meaningless as prayers.

As Mavet tosses Aella to Nevan, the prince bares his teeth, his incisors just as pointed as the woman’s.

Aella doesn’t react as the prince catches her. She looks so petite compared to his tall, muscular build as his large hands wrap around her thin arms.

Dizziness strikes me as I take in everything about my friend: her lush hair, the pink glow of her skin, and the fullness of her cheeks.

“Let the feast begin.” Mavet claps three times and then darts faster than anyone I’ve ever seen to a woman near the bar.

Alabek grips my shoulder and forces me to move, and as everyone else from the House of Blood finds their victims, we sprint out the back door.