Napolean replied.” There
is little time for practicing enchantment anymore, ruling the house of—leading
your brother’s house is a full-time job.”
Ciopori crossed her arms in front of her. “Then I must
say, as difficult as all of this is, I am glad we are here with you, Lord Mondragon
of the house of Andromeda. It is not a good feeling to be all alone.”
Napolean declined his head but didn’t answer.
“Speaking of which”—Ciopori gestured toward the
sky—“I am quite curious about the male who is being honored tonight by the gods.
Who does our Lord Draco smile upon? Do you already know his mate?”
Napolean cleared his throat, and then his face
became a blank slate, completely devoid of emotion. “Ciopori...how shall I say
this?” He turned around to face her. “The duty of my kingship is this: I see
everything that happens in the house of Jadon, both good and bad. I know the
thoughts, intentions, and fears of all the males, and all of the choices they
make the moment they make them, but I am not permitted by the gods to act
upon—or even reveal—such information. To interfere in the lives of my subjects
would be to... tamper with the future… or alter the hands of fate. To
change destiny or obstruct free will.
“Not to mention, it would be a severe violation of
the privacy of our males—certainly unworthy of the respect each one has earned.
Verily, I may act only upon a direct request, a matter of law and order, in the
interest of our survival, or the earth’s protection...but my reach ends there.”
Ciopori declined her head in deference; perhaps
she had violated some sort of tenet. “Forgive me, milord: Was I wrong to
inquire about this matter?”
Napolean smiled and shook his head. “No, Princess—not
at all. A male’s constellation is common knowledge in the house of Jadon;
however, the identity of his mate is not. Therefore, I can answer your first
question but not your last.” He drew in a deep breath. “It is the warrior
Marquis whose constellation illuminates our sky this night. He is the chosen
one of Draco.”
Ciopori hesitated. “You don’t mean Marquis Silivasi ?”
As if she knew more than one vampire named Marquis.
Napolean nodded, his face serene. “Yes, the Ancient
Master Warrior, Marquis Silivasi.”
Ciopori caught at the rail, her knees buckling
beneath her. She froze as she turned away from Napolean, dumbfounded. He had
repeated the name twice, yet she still could not believe she’d heard him
correctly. “You mean...the male who was here earlier today…Nachari’s brother… that Marquis Silivasi ?”
Napolean’s calm demeanor appeared deliberate. “Yes,
the constellation is his.”
Ciopori’s hand flew to her mouth in a desperate
attempt to restrain from asking a third time. It took every ounce of composure
she had to stand on the deck and look at the king…as if the entire world had
not just collapsed around her. “If you would be so kind, I would require a
moment alone.” Her voice sounded hollow and far away, as if the words were
coming from someone else’s mouth.
Napolean bowed ever so slightly, his expression
betraying nothing. “Of course.”
Ciopori held up her hand. “I would, however, like
to have a word with the wizard, Nachari, if you wouldn’t mind. Please send him
out as soon as possible.” She swallowed a lump in her throat and fought to keep
from trembling.
Napolean placed a comforting hand on the small of
her back but refrained from speaking. And Ciopori knew it was just as he had
said: The sovereign leader of the house of Jadon already knew everything, and
he would ask no further questions because providence had to play itself
out—good, bad, or indifferent. The wizened king was faultlessly neutral, an
observer at best.
“I will go fetch Nachari now,” he said in a soothing
tone of voice.
Ciopori waited restlessly, pacing back and forth
across the veranda. Although it had been less than five minutes since she had
asked to
is little time for practicing enchantment anymore, ruling the house of—leading
your brother’s house is a full-time job.”
Ciopori crossed her arms in front of her. “Then I must
say, as difficult as all of this is, I am glad we are here with you, Lord Mondragon
of the house of Andromeda. It is not a good feeling to be all alone.”
Napolean declined his head but didn’t answer.
“Speaking of which”—Ciopori gestured toward the
sky—“I am quite curious about the male who is being honored tonight by the gods.
Who does our Lord Draco smile upon? Do you already know his mate?”
Napolean cleared his throat, and then his face
became a blank slate, completely devoid of emotion. “Ciopori...how shall I say
this?” He turned around to face her. “The duty of my kingship is this: I see
everything that happens in the house of Jadon, both good and bad. I know the
thoughts, intentions, and fears of all the males, and all of the choices they
make the moment they make them, but I am not permitted by the gods to act
upon—or even reveal—such information. To interfere in the lives of my subjects
would be to... tamper with the future… or alter the hands of fate. To
change destiny or obstruct free will.
“Not to mention, it would be a severe violation of
the privacy of our males—certainly unworthy of the respect each one has earned.
Verily, I may act only upon a direct request, a matter of law and order, in the
interest of our survival, or the earth’s protection...but my reach ends there.”
Ciopori declined her head in deference; perhaps
she had violated some sort of tenet. “Forgive me, milord: Was I wrong to
inquire about this matter?”
Napolean smiled and shook his head. “No, Princess—not
at all. A male’s constellation is common knowledge in the house of Jadon;
however, the identity of his mate is not. Therefore, I can answer your first
question but not your last.” He drew in a deep breath. “It is the warrior
Marquis whose constellation illuminates our sky this night. He is the chosen
one of Draco.”
Ciopori hesitated. “You don’t mean Marquis Silivasi ?”
As if she knew more than one vampire named Marquis.
Napolean nodded, his face serene. “Yes, the Ancient
Master Warrior, Marquis Silivasi.”
Ciopori caught at the rail, her knees buckling
beneath her. She froze as she turned away from Napolean, dumbfounded. He had
repeated the name twice, yet she still could not believe she’d heard him
correctly. “You mean...the male who was here earlier today…Nachari’s brother… that Marquis Silivasi ?”
Napolean’s calm demeanor appeared deliberate. “Yes,
the constellation is his.”
Ciopori’s hand flew to her mouth in a desperate
attempt to restrain from asking a third time. It took every ounce of composure
she had to stand on the deck and look at the king…as if the entire world had
not just collapsed around her. “If you would be so kind, I would require a
moment alone.” Her voice sounded hollow and far away, as if the words were
coming from someone else’s mouth.
Napolean bowed ever so slightly, his expression
betraying nothing. “Of course.”
Ciopori held up her hand. “I would, however, like
to have a word with the wizard, Nachari, if you wouldn’t mind. Please send him
out as soon as possible.” She swallowed a lump in her throat and fought to keep
from trembling.
Napolean placed a comforting hand on the small of
her back but refrained from speaking. And Ciopori knew it was just as he had
said: The sovereign leader of the house of Jadon already knew everything, and
he would ask no further questions because providence had to play itself
out—good, bad, or indifferent. The wizened king was faultlessly neutral, an
observer at best.
“I will go fetch Nachari now,” he said in a soothing
tone of voice.
Ciopori waited restlessly, pacing back and forth
across the veranda. Although it had been less than five minutes since she had
asked to
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