Read Online The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) by Andrew Hunter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andrew Hunter
Ads: Link
man’s voice called out above the murmur of conversation throughout the hall, and everyone’s attention turned to the tall vampire who stood in the center of the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the vampire spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard outside the room, “I bid you all good evening!” The man wore a close-fitting tunic of golden silk over tight black leggings and glossy black boots. His bald head showed the slightly elongated ears and lengthened jaw that Garrett had come to associate with elder vampires, and his long fangs glistened, pearly-white in the bright light cast by a reflective mirror turned upon him from somewhere above.
“Please enter this hall with the blessings of the Yellow Troupe,” he said, “but enter quickly, for we grow impatient to begin!”
Scattered laughter sounded throughout the hall.
“I jest, of course!” the man said, “Please take as much time as you need to find your seat… Particularly you, sir.” He indicated a young vampire at the back of the hall who was still chatting with his friends. “Please, do not let us inconvenience you in any way.”
The vampire in yellow leaned forward, his large, watery eyes seeming to almost bulge from his head as he stared at the rude young vampire in the back. Others took notice and surreptitiously drew the young vampire’s attention to the elder’s mocking gaze. The young man fell silent and nodded back with a thin-lipped smile.
The man on the stage nodded his appreciation. He waved his long arms around and laughed, a high, merry laugh. “Welcome!” he cried out, “Welcome to the Song of Samhaed! ”
Applause filled the hall as vampires hurried to fill their seats and the house lights grew dimmer still.
Marla looked around, a worried look on her face. “I thought mother would be here by now,” she said.
Garrett only shrugged, hoping that Marla would not bring up the question of Uncle’s gift to her mother again. He was trying to enjoy just holding his girlfriend’s hand.
Then Marla pulled her hand away and rose from her seat.
Garrett’s blood ran cold when he saw why she had done so.
A lady in a black gown swept toward them with a retinue of grim-faced elder vampires a few steps behind her. Long, glossy black hair framed her high forehead, angular cheekbones, and narrow jaw. Thin, unsmiling lips parted slightly to reveal her long, white teeth as she turned her pale, unblinking eyes upon Garrett. He scrambled to his feet, almost knocking his chair over in his haste.
“My Lady!” Marla gasped. She crossed her hands over her chest and quickly bowed.
Garrett did his best imitation of a vampire greeting, but the lady had already turned her attention back to Marla.
“Young lady Veranu,” the woman said, her voice like frost-kissed steel, “I am Senzei, Valfrei of the Seventh House. I welcome your presence.” She bowed then to Marla with an almost reptilian grace. The vampires behind her bowed as well.
“You honor us, Valfrei,” Marla said, obviously flustered.
“May I join you?” Senzei asked, indicating the little table.
Garrett found the overly large irises of the woman’s eyes particularly unnerving.
“Of course,” Marla said, “but we only have four chairs.” She looked to the half dozen vampires standing behind the Valfrei.
“One is all I require,” Senzei said. She dismissed the others with a wave. They nodded in deference and took their leave.
The vampire woman stood motionless, regarding Marla with her unsettling gaze, until Garrett remembered his manners and hastily offered his chair to her. She sat down, smoothing the front of her black dress as Garrett hurried around to help Marla into her own chair.
He hesitated, considering flight for a brief moment as his mind fumbled through what little Uncle had managed to teach him of etiquette. Then again, this was the woman who had tried to have his uncle killed. He took a step forward and then back again, away from the table.
Marla shot him
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the vampire spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard outside the room, “I bid you all good evening!” The man wore a close-fitting tunic of golden silk over tight black leggings and glossy black boots. His bald head showed the slightly elongated ears and lengthened jaw that Garrett had come to associate with elder vampires, and his long fangs glistened, pearly-white in the bright light cast by a reflective mirror turned upon him from somewhere above.
“Please enter this hall with the blessings of the Yellow Troupe,” he said, “but enter quickly, for we grow impatient to begin!”
Scattered laughter sounded throughout the hall.
“I jest, of course!” the man said, “Please take as much time as you need to find your seat… Particularly you, sir.” He indicated a young vampire at the back of the hall who was still chatting with his friends. “Please, do not let us inconvenience you in any way.”
The vampire in yellow leaned forward, his large, watery eyes seeming to almost bulge from his head as he stared at the rude young vampire in the back. Others took notice and surreptitiously drew the young vampire’s attention to the elder’s mocking gaze. The young man fell silent and nodded back with a thin-lipped smile.
The man on the stage nodded his appreciation. He waved his long arms around and laughed, a high, merry laugh. “Welcome!” he cried out, “Welcome to the Song of Samhaed! ”
Applause filled the hall as vampires hurried to fill their seats and the house lights grew dimmer still.
Marla looked around, a worried look on her face. “I thought mother would be here by now,” she said.
Garrett only shrugged, hoping that Marla would not bring up the question of Uncle’s gift to her mother again. He was trying to enjoy just holding his girlfriend’s hand.
Then Marla pulled her hand away and rose from her seat.
Garrett’s blood ran cold when he saw why she had done so.
A lady in a black gown swept toward them with a retinue of grim-faced elder vampires a few steps behind her. Long, glossy black hair framed her high forehead, angular cheekbones, and narrow jaw. Thin, unsmiling lips parted slightly to reveal her long, white teeth as she turned her pale, unblinking eyes upon Garrett. He scrambled to his feet, almost knocking his chair over in his haste.
“My Lady!” Marla gasped. She crossed her hands over her chest and quickly bowed.
Garrett did his best imitation of a vampire greeting, but the lady had already turned her attention back to Marla.
“Young lady Veranu,” the woman said, her voice like frost-kissed steel, “I am Senzei, Valfrei of the Seventh House. I welcome your presence.” She bowed then to Marla with an almost reptilian grace. The vampires behind her bowed as well.
“You honor us, Valfrei,” Marla said, obviously flustered.
“May I join you?” Senzei asked, indicating the little table.
Garrett found the overly large irises of the woman’s eyes particularly unnerving.
“Of course,” Marla said, “but we only have four chairs.” She looked to the half dozen vampires standing behind the Valfrei.
“One is all I require,” Senzei said. She dismissed the others with a wave. They nodded in deference and took their leave.
The vampire woman stood motionless, regarding Marla with her unsettling gaze, until Garrett remembered his manners and hastily offered his chair to her. She sat down, smoothing the front of her black dress as Garrett hurried around to help Marla into her own chair.
He hesitated, considering flight for a brief moment as his mind fumbled through what little Uncle had managed to teach him of etiquette. Then again, this was the woman who had tried to have his uncle killed. He took a step forward and then back again, away from the table.
Marla shot him
Similar Books
