Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
My red hair and brown skin was actually a peculiarity that caused adults to whisper and point at me when I was a child and kids to bully me in school.
Vampires maintained muscular frames with eyes the color of precious metals and fangs that extended when they were happy, mad, or hungry.
“I hope Xander is still here,” Octavia mumbled. “Mother will kill me if I mess this up.”
I decided not to ask why her mom would be mad if things didn’t happen as planned. I’d been wondering why Queen Regina and her daughter decided to help me run away from the Quiet King.
But, in the end it didn’t matter.
I can’t survive in that castle another day.
Gusts of brown smoke and the fragrance of Zumayan mushrooms thickened the air. I smirked, inhaling the familiar scent. It reminded me of my home, Zumaya.
My real husband, not the Quiet King, lived there with my daughters. Every night for the past two years of my slavery, I’d closed my eyes and thought only of them.
I’m coming home.
I clutched the silver locket around my neck. A picture of my husband and children rested within it.
We had owned a large plantation, harvesting Zumayan mushrooms and selling them to vampire cities. The mushrooms were the only thing besides alcohol that could get a vampire inebriated. They also affected humans, but not as much as vampires.
My husband and I had been wealthy for many years. But this was all before the drought that decreased mushroom production and even before the tough decision my husband and I had made: to sell me to the king so my family and other Zumayans could survive the winter.
More brown smoke drifted in our direction.
Octavia coughed and waved it away.
My smirk transformed into a grin as I breathed in the mushrooms’ aroma.
I scanned the bar.
Almost every vampire held a pipe with streams of brown smoke rising from their openings.
Zumaya’s mushroom production must have improved since I left.
Things are finally better.
Octavia halted and faced me. “I almost forgot. These have to go.” She snatched out the few ice-blue roses that remained in my hair and tossed them on the bar’s tiled floor. “You can’t tell Xander you’re a domina or he won’t help you escape.”
“Okay.” I searched my hair with my hands and confirmed all the roses were gone.
Octavia yanked a sea-green shawl made from caterpillar silk out of her bag and handed it to me. “Wear this. It covers your robe.”
I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders. It hid my robe’s ivory embroidery, symbolizing I was untouched by the king and other vampires.
In my two years of domina slavery, no fangs had pierced my skin. The king never attempted to have sex with me, but my name had been on the breeding list for next month.
So far, I counted myself lucky.
“And what should I tell him?” I asked her.
“Say you’re a human maid who served dominas.”
A vampire stumbled by us, burping near my face. A sour odor followed.
“If I am a maid, then how did we meet?” I twisted the end of the shawl in my fingers. The soft silk smoothed in my hands. Beads of sweat materialized near my eyebrows.
“You can tell him the actual story, if it comes up.” Octavia balanced on the tips of her toes and frantically searched the bar. “But substitute a few parts like when I approached you asking you if you desired your freedom, say you were in the servant quarters instead of the domina resting room.”
“And if he doesn’t believe me?”
“There he is.” She snatched my wrist and tugged me forward as if I were a tiny doll instead of a grown woman.
Octavia was older than me by many years, but vampires and halflings aged slowly, healed most injuries easily, and lived well past a hundred years.
Nevertheless, we both looked my age of thirty.
“Don’t worry about his questions. I’ll step in to save you whenever I need to.” She shoved two human females out of the way and guided me several tables down to where two vampire men sat.
One had black-and-blond wavy hair.
The other was bald.
“Finally, Princess Octavia graces us with her presence.” The vampire with the wavy hair clapped his pale hands. His waves were as dark as the midnight sky, except for the honey-blond strands that bordered his face. Even his eyebrows were striped in blond-and-black.
A huge gray coat made of wolf hair covered his arms and chest.
This must be Xander.
“You’re late, Octavia. I almost left.” His lips formed into a thin line. His hands rested flat on the table.
“Well, I’m here now. Don’t be so dramatic, Xander.” Octavia dropped her bag on the table and pulled out her peacock fan. “The supplies you asked for are in the bag.”
Xander’s liquid-gold eyes centered on me. “And who is this?”
“I already told you before,” Octavia huffed and fanned herself, “This is a maid from the castle who wants to leave the city.”