Nathaniel

Abigail finishes speaking and offers me a meek grin. Within seconds Sasha is on his feet. I prepared myself for his scrutiny. This would be my least favorite part of this meeting. Sasha was known to be harsh. It’s why he was good at his job.

​Turned in his late forties, he wears his grey hair well and is one of the oldest looking order members. I have never seen him wearing anything other than a suit. Even during our late night meetings via video calls, he was always dressed in a crisp suit, fresh and wrinkle free.

​Sasha doesn’t know how to smile and today is no exception. He frowns at me and then turns his attention to Margot to explain his role in our the Accord. “Sasha Vortova. I oversee the security here and by extension the private military we utilize for the Founding Ten,” his eyes narrow as he waits for some type of acknowledgement from Margot that she is listening. When she nods slightly, he continues.

​“Your guard Ivan, who accompanied you here will be a permanent fixture at Tencrest. If you are to leave after the Crimson Ball even for a single day, he will be by your side. It is imperative you understand that until this marriage is sealed, you are both targets. And afterwards, there is still reason to have some concern. This is not a vacation and I expect you to remain in contact with your security at all times.”

​As he talks, Margot seems to slowly slide into her seat, shoulders curling to make herself smaller. While I hadn’t voiced my concern to her, I had spoken to Ivan about keeping a tighter eye on her. It would be a stressful few days until we finalized everything.

​Making eye contact with me, Sasha moves his assault to me, his gaze like a knife in my stomach. “Your security is weak. An embarrassment,” he falters in his speech for a second as if remembering I am King, “..Your majesty.”

​A chuckle slips out of me before I can help it. Sasha means well so I just nod and wave my hand to suggest him continuing on.

​“I will be implementing some new security measures as we have seen an increase in rogues in the southern states. While we are monitoring the situation and haven’t seen any increase in murders or disappearances, I am keeping an eye on it. We will be in touch, but no one leaves Tencrest until further notice.”

​I reach out for Margot’s hands that are fidgeting in her lap and go back to drawing circles in her palm. In my attempt to relax her, I find that allowing myself to touch her also eases the stress of this conversation.

​My sister stands up the second Sasha sits down and starts talking animatedly with her hands. Unlike me, my sister thrives in the spotlight. “Okay so as you know Margot, the Blackwell house is the financial manager of the Founding Ten. We oversee the business agreements and help continue to grow our financial wealth as a group.” She stops for a second and fishes a card out of her pocket and slides it to Margot who picks it up and examines it.

​“As part of the Accord marriage, it has been agreed upon that your family will receive a piece of real estate for your part in this agreement. They will of course benefit from the many business deals of the Crimson Ball as well. And this,” she motions back to the card Margot is holding, “is your card that is linked to the Blackwell accounts. You are free to use it as you see fit.”

​Margot is fidgeting again, but this time with the card she intensely examines on the table. I knew her family’s finances, she didn’t need that card but now that she was to be my wife, I would be financially responsible for her. I also knew that her father got much more than just a piece of real estate; they were actually getting a multimillion dollar profitable high rise in the city.

​I am pulled from my thoughts only when I hear the faint scape of paper. Abigail is leaning toward Lucien, whispering. I catch the movement just as the exchange ends. Lucien clears his throat, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turns his attention to Margot.

​“Ms. Astor, welcome.” He looks at me and gives a slight bow, an acknowledgement for formality’s sake. “My name is Lucien Moreau and my house is in charge of the Registry. This program has completely shifted how we receive our blood. We no longer take victims and are much more peaceful, but we do require donors. As you will be Nathaniel’s wife you have the responsibility of being his donor.” His grimace tells me that he is well aware of how poorly most human women take this news.

​Yet Margot doesn’t flinch, my hand tightly holding hers under the table is a gentle reminder that we are here to listen and accept the conditions of our marriage. The only way I even know she is listening to Lucien is the way she holds her breath slightly as if digesting his words requires all brain power and she doesn’t remember how to breathe.

​Deciding that we both need a distraction from this conversation, I unclasp her hand and slowly move it to her knee which is left uncovered as her dress has risen up from her constant nervous shuffling in her seat. Feeling her skin underneath my hand is like giving a drunk a drop of alcohol. I am the alcoholic here, thirsty after just a simple touch. She isn’t surprised by my touching, but I do see her eyes shift to my hand as I move it closer to her inner thigh where I can feel her core’s warmth. I’d much rather be exploring this but the king in me knows better. I keep my hand where it is and try to be happy with the closeness without wanting more.

​Oblivious to the exploration that was happening under the table, Lucien continues talking. “It is also important to note that once you have become pregnant, Nathaniel can no longer drink from you and should utilize the Registry for his needs,” he runs a hand through his long black hair and takes a quick breath. “After birth, we leave the decision up to you as a couple how to proceed. Our concern is for the unborn child and we must do everything to protect it.”

​With those words he gives Margot a thumbs up and takes his seat at the end of the table. Checking my watch, I realize this is taking a bit longer than I would have liked. I was hoping for some alone time with Margot tonight, but that might not happen now. I tightened my grip on her thigh and draw my thumb closer to her cunt. I can smell her and know she’s wet. Her body involuntarily gives a little shiver and I know that I need to stop so we can focus, but the blood pumping to my cock tells me that I would do anything to make her scream my name. Shaking my head I try to get back in the meeting.

​I sigh as finally we get to the end, Cassia. Her present age is not more than twenty, but she’s older than me. Before the Accord she spent time masquerading as a student to pioneer scientists learning from them and adapting their methods to fit our needs. Her bald head shines in the light from the cathedral ceiling lamps that cascade down.

​“Nathaniel and Margot,” her tone flat, she addresses us like her test subjects, “I am Cassia of house Slavius. My house contains the archives of our ancestors and I am the geneticist that matched you. We base our matches on compatibility. I believe we have matched you well,” she gives us a pleased smile, happy that her experiment is turning into its testing phase. “Everyone in the Founding Ten has a genetics file in our vault. We do this in a manner that allows us to plan our Accord marriages early. Expect us to be actively involved during your pregnancy and child’s early life.”

​She quirks her head at Margot, her focus narrowing like a scalpel and waves a manilla file she holds in her hands. “Margot, I have your file. Nathaniel stated you wish to view it in private. It is yours to keep, a copy of the one I have. Please reach out with questions. You are now part of the record. Every choice you make will be preserved for centuries.”

​Cassia speaks so clinically that it is hard to decipher if she has any malice behind her words or if she is just incapable of any warmth. I don’t know her well. Our paths only crossed once a year and she spent the majority of her time in her lab back home in California. She slides the file to Margot and bows to me before sitting.

​While Margot is grabbing the file, I release her thigh and pull her dress down to cover her appropriately. I stand and get ready to take my departure. I can feel how tense she is and the questions rumbling in her head, so I try to make it clear we understand so we can leave.

​I search the eyes of the five vampires looking at me, finding approval in each pair. At least they are happy with us. “We thank you for your time, we accept and understand the conditions of our Accord marriage.”

​When I offer my hand to Margot, her bright blue eyes lift to mine, still stormy with unasked questions. Not here though. Not with these listening ears. I’m desperate for that alone time with her. Apparently she is too.

​She takes my hand without hesitation and I guide her from the table. Past the vaulted ceilings and the polished eyes of the court. Toward somewhere only we know. In a large estate like Tencrest Manor there was only one place where no one would follow us.

​Our roof porch, where mouths can speak their minds, hands can explore, and I can have my way with her.

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