“It brings me great pleasure to be by your side again, Princess,” Arthur said.
I patted his forearm with my other hand. “Me too. I always looked forward to your letters.”
He smiled softly to himself. “I know. And that fact not only gave me pleasure in writing them, but also made my days of waiting for this moment much brighter.”
As we stepped through the tall glass doors, daylight spread around us, hidden by the walls of the Great Hall but still very much alive out here. The rounded balcony’s marble railing opened out to stone steps, sitting grandly above a grassy, split-level path to the hedge maze. The sweet, sharp scent of lilies and cherry blossoms filtered summer perfume into the warm evening. “I know you told me not to,” I said, having thought about it for a second. “But I kept one of your letters.”
His hand tightened over mine. “Why?”
“It sounded so genuine.”
I expected an objection, but he only offered silence as we took the steps and a left turn to a small courtyard just in front of the staffs’ ground floor bedroom windows.
“May I enquire as to which letter it was?” he said finally.
“The one about days being brighter—pretty much what you just said before, but in writing.” I grinned up at him, feeling the pinch of the small dimple by my lip.
He nodded and presented the bench-like garden swing nearby. “Would you like to sit?”
“Thank you,” I said, sweeping my skirt under my legs as I sat down carefully, trying not to rock it too much so I didn’t tip over and land on my butt like a clumsy ox.
“I wonder—” Arthur sat beside me “—if David ever told you he spent nearly every second summer of his human life at this manor. That he sat here, on this very bench.”
“Really?” I said and looked forward, imagining young David running through the hedge maze. “I haven’t really been told much about this place at all—or about David.”
“You will learn. In time.”
We sat silently for a while, a comfortable silence, and all I could think of was how great dinner smelled and how nice it would feel, all hot and solid in my belly. When the setting sun reached the greens of summer on this side of the manor, turning them orange and pink as it creeped closer and closer to the ocean behind the trees, I turned to Arthur, a question on my lips I knew I shouldn’t ask; “Arthur?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I’m trying to get all the laws of the vampires straight in my head and figure out how things were before Drake took over—”
He scoffed loudly. “Drake never took over, Princess. He merely took back the throne.”
“Well, which ever way you want to look at it.”
“No, my dear, that is a fact. Drake built the monarchy. He designed the Sets, the rules—he is the reason the human race was not wiped out centuries ago.”
“Why would we have been wiped out?”
“War among your kind, greed among vampires—blood lust. He has stepped in many times to save humans from themselves. And from vampires.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Everything we stand for, everything the community is today, is a result of Drake’s empire.”
“Why? If he’s so evil, why would he do that?”
Arthur seemed to sigh internally. “You know, as well as I do, that good and bad is not black and white. Drake, by human standards, may seem evil, but he is still a good man.”
I nodded. “I’ll buy that.”
“Anyway, back to your original question.”
“Oh, um, I was going to ask why Lilithians weren’t allowed to mix with vampires, and how David got away with dating Morgaine if it was illegal.”
Arthur smiled. “It wasn’t always that way. For a time, Lilithians and vampires lived in peace. But Drake quickly realised that the control we had gained over the population of vampires was based mainly on the fear they had of punishment—punishment carried out by Lilithians. In order to maintain that fear, we had to create a divide between the species.”
“Why a divide?”
“Understanding, my dear. When you understand something, there is little reason to fear it. If that happened, we could have lost control over the nation. So, Drake was none too concerned if council leaders wished to mingle with Lilithians, because they knew the importance of maintaining that divide, but average vampires were not permitted. He particularly had little issue with Morgaine, given that she was of high authority among her kind—employed, rather than enslaved by Drake.”
“Employed?”
“Yes. She was…” He let out a slow breath. “Good at her job. Not to mention she was, at one point, rather close with Drake—spent many nights in his company.”
I covered my mouth.
“Consensual, of course,” Arthur added. “So, David and Morgaine being together was accepted—here at Loslilian. This place—” he looked around fondly, “—it’s like living in another time—a separate world. But outside these walls, the rules of the Sets were always enforced. Vampires associating with Lilithians is…was illegal and frowned upon.”
“Why was it so different at the manor?”
“Loslilian was always a very human place. Drake did not care much for the preservation of vampire customs here.”
“Why?”
Arthur considered for a second. “Perhaps it was because Lilith was always so human. Many of her servants and staff were human, and throughout history, even after Lilith died, this manor remained that way. Vampires brought their human mates here until they were ready for transformation, and—”
“Why didn’t David do that with me?” I sprung forward, raising my voice. “Before he knew I couldn’t be a vampire. We could have run away here until I was ready.”
He rubbed his chin. “I know. And I offered him this, but he refused.”
I swallowed a hard lump. “Why?”
“David…well, he had some inner truths he wished to keep from you. He told me once that you were a very moralistic girl—that you challenged and questioned everything that was right and wrong, basing your friendships and feelings on how you measured a person.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
He smiled. “In the vampire community, that is a luxury we cannot afford. There are no exceptions. We have all committed unspeakable acts of cruelty. A council member, however, is known too well for their ability to separate themselves from the unpleasant—disregarding compassion in order to instil fear as a means of maintaining control. David was afraid if you ever learned of the things he’d done, you would not have the heart to love him.”