toward the monarch and bowed her
head ever so slightly. “Milord.” She turned back to the sky. “Indeed, it is
magnificent. I don’t believe I have ever seen anything more spectacular in all
of my life.”
Napolean smiled, his shimmering silver irises
casting light like crystals against the moon; his gorgeous, waist length hair
swaying with his regal movements. “I’ve seen the Blood Moon sky a thousand times
over my long life, yet every time it appears, it is as if I am viewing it for
the first time. I am pleased that you are able to see it.”
Ciopori gave him a curious glance. “Why wouldn’t
I?”
Napolean shrugged his broad shoulders. “The Blood
Moon is an omen—a sign which only appears to the male descendants of both Jadon
and Jaegar—”
“My brothers,” Ciopori clarified.
“A sign which only appears to the male descendants
of your brothers ,” Napolean corrected, still clearly in awe of her
lineage. “Yet, it was a mercy given to the descendants of Jadon, alone,
following the Curse. And for that reason, humans have never been able to observe
the phenomenon: The sky looks perfectly normal to them right now. The moon looks
the same as always.”
He came to stand beside her and paused, as if
searching for the right words. “As you are not...a product of the Curse...I wasn’t
sure if you would be able to behold it or not.”
Ciopori sighed and gazed toward the forest, both
of them now leaning against the banister. “I can see your point, milord. However,
I am a Celestial Being of pure blood, one of the remaining descendants of the
goddess Cygnus and her human mate, Mateo; so of course I can view the Omen: All
that occurs in the heavens occurs in my ancestral home.”
Napolean looked at her wistfully—clearly studying
her face. “You know, I remember you, Princess Ciopori…from before.”
“Pardon me?” She looked surprised.
Napolean’s smile was exquisite. “I remember you
from Romania.”
Ciopori turned to face him then, her hands clasped
together in front of her. “I’m afraid I don’t share this memory, Sir Mondragon;
please, elaborate.”
Napolean laughed, his voice a rich baritone. “You
wouldn’t, Princess—being that I was only ten-years old when the Blood Curse
occurred.” He sighed. “I saw you only once. It was right before...the
sacrifices began...when our world was still a fair and just place to be...
“It was after a particularly successful harvest—at
one of the honoring ceremonies: You were there with your father, the king, although
I don’t recall seeing your sister or your mother. But you—you were standing
behind your father on the platform, wearing one of the most exquisite gowns I
had ever seen. Well, for a five-year-old.” He chuckled lightly. “It was
lavender—like the lilies of the field—and I remember staring at all that silk as
it swayed in the wind. The sun cast a shadow beneath you, causing the effect of
a halo above you. I was but a child then, and I believed our king to be a god. Gazing
at you on that platform, I was certain you were a goddess as well.”
Ciopori laughed. “Well, that is quite a compliment
coming from one who grew up to be such a powerful leader himself. I’m sure many
of the children here think the same of you now.” After a moment of silence, she
ventured, “If you don’t mind me asking: What house are you from? I mean your
lineage before the Curse .”
Napolean looked off into the distance. He raised
his eyebrows and sighed as if he rarely thought of such things anymore. “I am
the only one of my family that has survived—the last remaining pure-blood
Celestial Being of our people.” He glanced at her and smiled. “At least until
now.”
Ciopori nodded.
“My direct descendants were begotten of the
goddess Andromeda and her human mate, Demetrius Mondragon.”
Ciopori caught her breath. “You come from a very
powerful house of magic, milord: I did not realize...”
“That’s quite all right,”
head ever so slightly. “Milord.” She turned back to the sky. “Indeed, it is
magnificent. I don’t believe I have ever seen anything more spectacular in all
of my life.”
Napolean smiled, his shimmering silver irises
casting light like crystals against the moon; his gorgeous, waist length hair
swaying with his regal movements. “I’ve seen the Blood Moon sky a thousand times
over my long life, yet every time it appears, it is as if I am viewing it for
the first time. I am pleased that you are able to see it.”
Ciopori gave him a curious glance. “Why wouldn’t
I?”
Napolean shrugged his broad shoulders. “The Blood
Moon is an omen—a sign which only appears to the male descendants of both Jadon
and Jaegar—”
“My brothers,” Ciopori clarified.
“A sign which only appears to the male descendants
of your brothers ,” Napolean corrected, still clearly in awe of her
lineage. “Yet, it was a mercy given to the descendants of Jadon, alone,
following the Curse. And for that reason, humans have never been able to observe
the phenomenon: The sky looks perfectly normal to them right now. The moon looks
the same as always.”
He came to stand beside her and paused, as if
searching for the right words. “As you are not...a product of the Curse...I wasn’t
sure if you would be able to behold it or not.”
Ciopori sighed and gazed toward the forest, both
of them now leaning against the banister. “I can see your point, milord. However,
I am a Celestial Being of pure blood, one of the remaining descendants of the
goddess Cygnus and her human mate, Mateo; so of course I can view the Omen: All
that occurs in the heavens occurs in my ancestral home.”
Napolean looked at her wistfully—clearly studying
her face. “You know, I remember you, Princess Ciopori…from before.”
“Pardon me?” She looked surprised.
Napolean’s smile was exquisite. “I remember you
from Romania.”
Ciopori turned to face him then, her hands clasped
together in front of her. “I’m afraid I don’t share this memory, Sir Mondragon;
please, elaborate.”
Napolean laughed, his voice a rich baritone. “You
wouldn’t, Princess—being that I was only ten-years old when the Blood Curse
occurred.” He sighed. “I saw you only once. It was right before...the
sacrifices began...when our world was still a fair and just place to be...
“It was after a particularly successful harvest—at
one of the honoring ceremonies: You were there with your father, the king, although
I don’t recall seeing your sister or your mother. But you—you were standing
behind your father on the platform, wearing one of the most exquisite gowns I
had ever seen. Well, for a five-year-old.” He chuckled lightly. “It was
lavender—like the lilies of the field—and I remember staring at all that silk as
it swayed in the wind. The sun cast a shadow beneath you, causing the effect of
a halo above you. I was but a child then, and I believed our king to be a god. Gazing
at you on that platform, I was certain you were a goddess as well.”
Ciopori laughed. “Well, that is quite a compliment
coming from one who grew up to be such a powerful leader himself. I’m sure many
of the children here think the same of you now.” After a moment of silence, she
ventured, “If you don’t mind me asking: What house are you from? I mean your
lineage before the Curse .”
Napolean looked off into the distance. He raised
his eyebrows and sighed as if he rarely thought of such things anymore. “I am
the only one of my family that has survived—the last remaining pure-blood
Celestial Being of our people.” He glanced at her and smiled. “At least until
now.”
Ciopori nodded.
“My direct descendants were begotten of the
goddess Andromeda and her human mate, Demetrius Mondragon.”
Ciopori caught her breath. “You come from a very
powerful house of magic, milord: I did not realize...”
“That’s quite all right,”
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