Chapter 3

"Nothing." I put the necklace back in the jewelry box. "I was just thinking about some things."

Adrian took a few steps closer. When he caught sight of the bandage around my ankle, his face darkened at once. "How did you get hurt like this?"

"I stepped into a hunter's silver snare on the edge of the market."

He immediately crouched down, wanting to touch the wound but afraid of hurting me. The worry on his face then was not an act. Knowing it was real made my heart feel even heavier. "Where were the guards?! I told them to stay close to you!"

"They were busy looking for the necklace." I looked back at him calmly. "I walked off on my own."

He opened his mouth, but he didn't go on blaming them. After a moment, he ordered a full search of the roads around the market and an investigation into the night patrol's carelessness, his voice once again that of the Blood King giving orders.

"The nurse has already taken care of it." I smoothed my skirt. "There's no need to send for a physician."

"But why didn't you call me when it happened?"

I was silent for a few seconds. "Weren't you busy with work?"

Something uneasy crossed his face, but it quickly gave way to tender concern. He took my hand and told me that from now on, whatever happened, I could call him. Nothing was more important than me. When he finished, I just said I was exhausted. He had supper brought to the bedroom and checked the blood I was drinking himself. Only when he saw the empty glass did he relax a little. He propped up my pillows and asked quietly whether I'd like to go somewhere else for a change of scenery.

"No need." I closed my eyes. "I just want to rest."

He didn't push. Before he left, he set the jewelry box on the nightstand, and the lid closed with a soft click. At that sound, it felt as if another part of my past had been shut away.

Late that night, after he'd dealt with the work that had piled up, he came back to the bedroom and held me from behind. I was already drifting, but the scent of white roses reached me, and I was wide awake at once. He wrapped my hand in his and pressed it to his chest, trying to give me the warmth he'd just taken from feeding.

I used to love being held like this. Even though neither of us had a human heartbeat anymore, I still wanted to believe he was holding me as close to his heart as he could. But now I could only keep thinking that these same hands had held another woman just as tightly a few hours ago.

He held me tenderly, while I used all my strength to keep from pulling away.

"Go to sleep." His breath stirred my hair. "I'm here."

I didn't answer. Pain and exhaustion pulled me under, and in my dreams the window of that house kept coming back. Every time, I stood outside it and watched him walk past me toward the person inside.

When I woke the next day, his side of the bed was empty. The pillow held two completely different scents. I sat still for a while, then rang for an attendant to change every sheet and pillowcase. She thought my wound had gotten worse and looked nervously at the bed. I shook my head and told her not to worry.

"I just want clean bedding."

She told me quietly that the Blood King had run into some urgent business and had left in a hurry. I didn't even ask what it was. I'd heard those excuses for a whole month. I knew them so well by now that he didn't even need to bother making them up.

Over the next few days, I began sorting through my things. As the swelling in my ankle slowly went down, I sat in the bedroom and opened one drawer after another. I spread photos, letters, jewelry, and albums across the rug in two piles: what I'd take and what I'd leave behind for good.

The first thing into the box was a little crystal bird he'd carved himself. That winter I hadn't wanted to go out, and he'd heard that handmade gifts meant more, so he'd spent a long time learning from an old craftsman. When he gave it to me, one wing still had a rough flaw. He'd rubbed the chip with his thumb, unusually embarrassed, and said he'd do better next time. I'd kept it by the window for a long time. Even with the heavy curtains shutting out the sun, the faint light of the streetlamps was enough to make the crystal scatter tiny glints. Now, when I picked it up, a thin layer of dust had settled on its base.

There was also a row of custom perfumes, all blended to my taste. Woodsy, grass after rain, and the scent of greenhouse white roses. He'd once said he wanted to keep every scent I loved so that even if I couldn't go out, life wouldn't feel dull. I packed the glass bottles away one by one and didn't open any of them.

There were more photos than anything else. The seaside, a long bridge, the door of an inn where we'd stayed on a trip. On camera, he always seemed cool and distant with everyone else, but whenever he turned to me, his face softened. I'd once relied on these photos to convince myself that every exception he'd made had been for me alone.

When I came to the one from the blood oath ceremony, I stopped for a long time. In the photo, I wasn't used to my new fangs yet, and my smile was stiff. He had his head turned to gaze at me, his eyes shining, as if the nervous woman in front of him were worth more than every treasure at the banquet. I didn't tear it up. I just turned it face down and put it at the very bottom of the box. Destroying a photo wouldn't erase the memory, and keeping it wouldn't bring back the past. All I had to do was accept that those years were over.

Paper and fabric went to the incinerator in the back courtyard. Glass, crystal, and metal wouldn't burn, so I told Edmund to have the haulers take them away and not bring them back to the bedroom. The incinerator door closed, the letters curled up, and the ink vanished in the flames. I stood at a safe distance and watched those solemn promises turn to ash.

"What are you burning?"

Adrian's voice came from behind me. I turned. He was pulling off his gloves, his eyes on the boxes by the hauling truck.

"Some old things I don't need anymore."

He caught sight of a frame poking out of the corner of a box and frowned. "You're getting rid of the photos too?"

"They're too old," I said flatly.

It wasn't a clever excuse. If he'd just walked over, lifted the lid, and asked me seriously why, he'd have seen these weren't ordinary odds and ends. But the phone in his pocket buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and pulled back the hand he'd reached toward the box. "Never mind. We'll just get new ones. Make a list of whatever you want and give it to Edmund."

I watched him grip his phone and said nothing.

"If you don't like how things are arranged now, we'll redo the whole house." He kissed my forehead. "As long as you're happy, we can change everything."

In his eyes, our past was just like the curtains and rugs, something that could be replaced at will. After he left, I had the last box taken away. Back upstairs, the walls showed paler patches where the frames had hung, the shelves were empty, and the bedroom looked roomier than before. I didn't cry.

The countdown ticked on. I kept drinking blood regularly, cared for my wound as instructed, and packed my passport, my personal account details, and my medical records into my bag. It was a long flight to Europe, and I'd land in daylight, so I arranged for a car to meet me in an enclosed garage and made sure the curtains at my new place were fully lightproof. Those small preparations, one by one, gave me a solid sense of security. Escape was no longer just a fantasy in the middle of the night. It was a new life with a flight and an address, entirely my own.

All the savings I drew on came from my private account. I didn't touch a cent of the Vane clan's assets. His properties, his jewels, anything that needed his permission to dispose of, I left on the list in the agreement. When I'd finished, Edmund brought me the banquet program and asked me to confirm the order of entry. I used to read these carefully, memorizing the grudges between guests and avoiding harsh lighting. This time, I only looked over the parts I had to attend and handed it back.

"Leave the rest to the Blood King."

Edmund looked surprised and assumed I'd finally decided to rest properly. Only then did I realize how many small efforts over the years had been taken for granted. Remembering the guests' preferences, finding excuses for his absences, trying not to disrupt his plans even when I wasn't well. I'd gotten used to it, and so had everyone else. When I stopped, it was seen as a temporary break. I didn't regret having put my heart into this home. It was just that from now on, these exhausting little chores no longer belonged to me by default.

I didn't want to feel, every time I paid my rent from now on, that I was living on his charity.

Three nights before the anniversary, I told the gardener to clear out the heated greenhouse with the white roses. He hesitated and asked whether he should check with the Blood King first.

I shook my head. "I just don't like white roses anymore. Once the old stems are burned, you can plant evergreen shrubs that suit the North. There's no need to keep spending to heat it."

"You really don't need to ask the Blood King?"

"This is my greenhouse." I looked straight at him. "I have the right to decide what happens to it."

The gardener lowered his head and said nothing more. The old roses were all cleared away, the lights in the courtyard grew brighter, and guests who'd received invitations confirmed their plans one by one. Everyone thought I was eagerly looking forward to this grand anniversary celebration. No one knew I was just quietly waiting for the last of the 15 days to run out.

The 15th day finally came.

Dusk swallowed the falling snow. I opened the nightstand one last time and took out the repaired moonstone necklace. Adrian wanted me to wear it to the banquet, and I had no wish to argue about it. I fastened the clasp and looked at myself in the mirror. No matter how beautiful it was, I'd only wear it for a few more hours.

Downstairs, the band began its first piece. Adrian was waiting at the foot of the stairs in a dark formal suit with a small white rose pinned to his chest. When he saw me, his eyes lit up, enough to fool everyone into thinking we were still as close as ever. "You look flawless." He held out his hand to me. "Tonight, everyone will envy me."

I held the banister and came down the last two steps without giving him my full weight. He thought my ankle hadn't healed yet and supported my arm especially carefully as he led me into the banquet hall. The guests rose. The crystal chandeliers glittered, silver-gray tablecloths lay smooth, thin-rimmed glasses were filled with deep red wine, and vases along the walls overflowed with roses. The guests included representatives of the vampire clans as well as the people who ran the North's trade. I'd seen many of those faces countless times.

Everyone raised their glasses to congratulate us on five years of the blood oath and wished us countless more nights like this one. An older lady took my hand and remarked how rare it was, in the long life of a vampire, for love to stay unchanged, and how lucky I was to be loved like this.

"Yes," Adrian answered for me. "Meeting her was my good fortune."

Warm laughter rose around us. I looked at him and wanted to ask what he was thinking when he said those words. But he took my hand openly and showed the whole room that our bond was unbreakable. Halfway through the banquet, the lights slowly dimmed. The band changed its rhythm, and the glass doors to the garden swung open. The terrace had been laid with a non-slip floor, and wall lamps lit the swirling snow, making the whole scene look like a carefully arranged stage.

Then Livia stepped slowly into the light.

She was no longer in disguise. She wore a long white dress that clung to her figure. Her hair was swept up, her neck bare, her lips a deep, vivid red. She dipped into a small curtsy toward the head table, then raised her eyes and locked them on Adrian. My fingers tightened around my glass. His lover was performing at the anniversary banquet he'd planned for us.

The guests beside me marveled that she was a born vampire of proper lineage, strong in body and graceful in dance. They weren't necessarily trying to hurt me, but when she leapt lightly onto the railing and spun down again, I couldn't help thinking of my ankle, still swollen. She moved fast, her skirt flaring, crossing the terrace in an instant. She paused in the light to lift a wrist, arch her back, or hide her fangs behind a small smile. She seemed certain someone would be spellbound. Her eyes never left Adrian, not once.

The whole room was absorbed in the performance. Only he sat motionless, his fingers pressed hard against the back of his chair. He didn't look at me, and he didn't reach over to fix the shawl slipping off my shoulders. Livia came down from the high platform, her skirt spreading out, then finished her final spin in a pose at the center of the light. She was a little out of breath, the dark red in her eyes not yet faded, and she was deliberately showing off her strength. Applause thundered.

The cheers went on and on, and the guests raised their glasses. Adrian finally let go of the chair, his voice a little low. "Everyone who worked on tonight's event will be rewarded. I'm very pleased to have made Eve smile."

Hearing my name tossed out so lightly made my stomach turn. He couldn't even be honest about who had really enjoyed it.

Livia took a glass from an attendant and came toward us with a smile. "Then I must drink to my lady. To you and the Blood King, and a love that lasts forever."

Adrian's smile faded, and he seemed about to stop her. But she'd already reached my side, outwardly respectful, so no outsider would suspect anything. As she leaned down, I saw clearly that she was also wearing a moonstone necklace, almost exactly the same as mine. Mine lay against my collarbone, and its cold touch made me want to rip it off right then.

"Do you like my necklace?" She leaned close, her voice so low only the two of us could hear. "He put it on me himself and said it looks good against my skin."

I looked at her without a word.

Her gaze swept over the hand holding my glass, then down to my foot, still not fully healed. "Did watching that performance tire you out? I almost forgot. You probably don't even know what it's like to have a body that does what you ask of it."

"Livia." I said her name. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

When she saw I knew who she was, the smile in her eyes deepened, and her voice took on a note of pity. "I just feel sorry for you. He has an endless life, and you can't even feed properly. You get by on treated plasma day after day. Sooner or later, he's bound to get bored."

My phone buzzed softly on the table. The screen lit up. It was a photo she'd sent. In it, she was wearing my robe and lying on our bed. Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, offering his wrist to her lips, his other hand buried in her hair. The angle had been chosen to include the nightstand, and the photo of our blood oath stood clearly in the frame.

I stared at the outline of the frame, my fingertips cold to the bone. So it wasn't just the cabin at the logging camp. While I waited in another room or went to the clinic for checkups, they'd even used my bed.

"He likes it when I drink straight from him. He doesn't have to worry about me losing control, and I don't get dizzy and weak after a few sips. Do you want to hear what he said to me afterward? I can tell you all about it, slowly."

I turned my phone face down on the table and looked up at her. She must have pictured me breaking down in tears and making a hysterical scene, letting everyone see how pathetic a frail, jealous mate could be.

But I only said, calmly, "No, thank you."

When she didn't get the reaction she wanted, her eyes darkened a little. The next moment, she turned, bumped the rim of my glass with her elbow, and raised her own glass at the same time. Red wine splashed across her white dress. She cried out and stumbled back, the soaked fabric clinging to her body. All conversation in the room stopped, and every eye turned our way.

Adrian shot to his feet. "What are you doing!"

His voice was icy, but his eyes went to her first, and only after a moment did they move to me. I sat where I was, my own glass standing steady on the table. Anyone with eyes could see I hadn't started this. Livia sank to her knees.

"I'm sorry, it was my fault." Her eyes brimmed with tears, her hands pressing uselessly at her soaked skirt. "I only wanted to offer my blessing. I never meant for this to happen. Please don't be angry. I'll leave right away."

Her shoulders drooped and her neck was bared as she put on a carefully calculated show of distress for everyone. Someone offered her a shawl, but she looked to Adrian first, waiting for him to protect her.

His jaw tightened. "Take her to change."

He didn't blame her or ask what had really happened. He only wanted her out of sight as quickly as possible to keep up appearances. Livia stood up, her fingertips brushing quickly over his sleeve. Others might not notice, but I caught the look he was holding back. As she passed me, her lips curved into a small smile. I understood she was announcing her victory.

The attendants removed the wine-soaked tablecloth, the band started playing again, and the guests returned awkwardly to their small talk. Adrian sat back down beside me and reached for my hand.

I moved my hand away and picked up my water glass.

"Eve." His voice had a belated unease in it. "Don't take what just happened to heart."

"Which part?"

He looked at me, at a loss for words. After a long while, he said she was just a performer who didn't know her place, and that I shouldn't let an outsider disturb our night. I smiled faintly. Just then, his phone screen lit up. He glanced at it, quickly turned it off, and looked back at me. In that moment, I saw clearly the struggle in him, and I saw just as clearly that after the struggle, he still meant to lie.

"Something's come up in the south. I may need to..."

"Go," I cut him off.

He froze. "You're not angry?"

"Don't you have work to do?"

He gripped the arm of his chair and stared at my face for a long time. Maybe my calm agreement had finally made him sense that something had changed. "Wait for me," he said quietly. "The night isn't over yet. We haven't opened the gift. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I looked out the window. The glass reflected the lights of the banquet hall and the harsh gleam of the moonstone at my throat. "Adrian, I've already waited too long."

Those words seemed to hit him, and he paused as he rose. Footsteps sounded at the side door as an attendant came to say the car was ready. He kissed my forehead one last time and, in the end, turned and left. The moment the door closed, I felt a cool flutter in my chest. The oath-breaking potion had reached its final step.

I sat still for a while until the water in my glass stopped trembling, then reached up and took off the necklace. I left it on the empty chair at the head table and set the place card printed with blessings on top of it.

I didn't expose everything in front of the guests. I only told Edmund I wasn't feeling well and needed to go upstairs to rest. No one stopped me. Everyone knew the Blood King's mate had always been frail, and they were sure he'd be back soon to take care of me. In the bedroom, I changed out of my gown, put on flat boots for traveling, and picked up the suitcase I'd packed long ago. The wardrobe was empty. Everything that belonged to me didn't even fill one suitcase.

The tablet by the bed was still logged in to my old account, the one I'd used to read books and answer friends' messages. I left it where it was, screen up, without logging out. If Livia still wanted to show off, there'd be just the right audience for it. I slipped out through the side door alone and got into the car I'd booked in advance. When the driver asked where to, I said the airport without a moment's hesitation.

The lights of the house fell farther and farther behind. As we passed the greenhouse, I saw the gardener bringing in new seedlings, their fresh green leaves shining in the lamplight. Clearing the roses didn't mean the garden would stay empty forever. Neither would I.

The airport was brightly lit. The staff checked my documents and showed me into a lightproof waiting area reserved for vampires. My medical certificate explained my need to avoid light. Countless travelers passed through this city every day, and no one would bother to remember a woman traveling alone.

Once I'd taken my seat on the plane, I unclenched my hands. My palms were covered with deep nail marks. They didn't heal instantly, but they no longer embarrassed me. My body was slow to recover, so I'd be patient. A new life was hard to start, but I had plenty of time. I opened my phone, collected every taunting message, photo, and recording Livia had sent me over the past month, and forwarded them all to Adrian's private number. No questions, no demands, and no room left for him to explain.

He ought to see for himself that while he thought he'd covered his tracks perfectly, his lover had been laying the truth out for me again and again. When I'd sent everything, I turned off the phone with my old number and put it at the very bottom of my bag. I hadn't given my new number to anyone at the house. Adrian would never again be able to barge into my nights with a familiar ringtone.

The plane picked up speed down the runway, and the countless lights of Greyport shrank outside the window into blurry dots. I leaned back and felt the blood oath bond that had held for five years fade, bit by bit. The memories remained, and the pain hadn't gone away, but my body would no longer turn toward him by instinct.

As we broke through the clouds, my chest gave one last tremor. Something like a cry with nowhere to go, sharp and brief and full of belated panic, cut across my mind. It was the last echo the blood oath sent me before it broke completely.

I didn't answer it.

The next second, everything inside me went still.