“Why?”
“Because they enforce the laws—including the laws that keep you in line.”
“Like what laws? I’m gonna be queen. Do I even have any laws?”
“Everyone has laws to follow, Ara.” The bored tone of a cop giving a ticket to a defensive teen dominated his voice. “Treason, for example; if you commit an act that goes against the throne—something morally improper or something that puts your people in great jeopardy—they could overthrow you.”
“Right. So, don’t mess with them.”
“Right. And, I know it’ll be hard for you being chastised all the time, but they’ll be the ones who debate your decisions and question everything you do. However,” he said, raising an index finger, “they have centuries of experience, and you’ll do well to listen to them. They have the Lilithian peoples’ best interests at heart.”
“And who speaks for the vampires?”
“Essentially, we do—your Private Council. But there’s also the Lower House.”
“Who are they?”
“Okay, so there’s two other Councils; one is made up of six vampires, who will, when we get control of the Sets, be the new Set leaders, and the other six are Lilithians, who are Lords of the lands our people live on.”
“Like vassals and fiefs and all that stuff?” I sat up straight, turning in my seat to look at his face.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Exactly like that. Actually, Arthur was the Lord of Loslilian—back when David was human.”
“Really? But wasn’t he a Set leader?”
“Yeah. His Set resided here for that period—in the houses you’ll see over those hills in a minute.” He nodded out his window. “Anyway, do you understand more about the political side of things now?”
“Yep. You just condensed Morgaine’s eight-week speech into eight minutes, and I totally get all that now.”
“Well, I’ve always had a way with words.”
“Yeah, you’d make a great teacher.”
Mike nodded to himself, his lips arching downward with thought. “But I make a better Security Chief.”
I nodded and looked out at the seemingly state-wide expanse of fields. “So, how much land do we own out here?”
The Chief rattled off a bunch of numbers, then, seeing my concentration waver, said, “You can fit four or five suburbs on our land. And we own the beach, too. No one can access it without approval—well, no humans. Those at the manor can go down there as they please.”
“What’s the sand like? Is it white and smooth, like Perth, or is it covered in shells and sea-weed?”
Mike hesitated. “It’s white. Smooth. But I don’t want you down there.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a dangerous beach, Ara. It’s a narrow strip of sand, caged in by two massive cliffs that get thrashed by ferocious waves. It’s private and secluded and you have to go down a really steep set of stone stairs to get to it.”
“So?”
“So, it’s dangerous,” his voice became high. “You could get swept out to sea if you’re not careful—or bashed against rocks.”
“Are you saying I’m too weak to swim in the ocean?”
He just raised a brow.
“Fine. I won’t go down there…” When you’re around.
“Thank you.” He exhaled. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a jerk, but I promised David I’d take care of you.”
“It’s fine, Mike.” I reached across and tapped his knee, then drew my hand away. “So, will I get to see the manor over the hill before we get there?” I sat a little taller.
“Yep, just watch over that rise.” He nodded out his side window. “We’ll come to a forest soon, so you won’t see it for long, but you’ll get a glimpse.”
I did see a glimpse then, of something other than a manor. “Is that the houses you were talking about?”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “We’ve just had them all refurbished. We’re moving Lilithians back in there this week.”
“What about the vampires who lived there?”
“Unless they’re faithful to the new queen, they’ve been evicted.”
Somehow, that didn’t feel right.
“Ara, the Lilithians we’re moving back into those houses have been living underground in cells for hundreds of years—working as slaves. Their only food has been the vampires that were sent to Loslilian for torture and—”
“Really?”
“Yes. So, don’t feel sorry for the vampires. They never felt sorry when they marched in and ripped human children from their adoptive Lilithian mothers, then burned them in a bonfire in the middle of the night.”
I covered my mouth. “They had children?”
“We were a nation of very human creatures, Ara. Lilithians lived for their families, for the love of life.”
“Will they be allowed to start families again—adopt children?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the Upper House disapproves.”
“Why?”
“Because they do.” He huffed, re-gripping the steering wheel. “Look, no discussing politics outside Council meetings, all right?”
“Why?”
“Ara. Just…just shut up for a bit. I’m not used to all this talking—you’re actually doing my head in.”
“Fine.” I sunk back in my chair and folded my arms, my frown dropping when the grand cream fascia of a colossal building crept over the hill. “Whoa.”
“Told ya it’s big.” Mike’s tone had completely changed.
“Big? It must be six storeys high.”
“Three,” he said in short. “But each level has high ceilings, so I guess it would equate to the height of a six storey.”
“It looks like a castle from a fairy-tale,” I said, not taking my eyes from the magnificent glow of the midday sun, bouncing off a dome roof, marking the centre of the large, seemingly rectangle building.
“Yeah, it has an undeniable charm about it.”
I closed my eyes, savouring the image as a forest swallowed the day around us, but the warmth of the cream bricks set among bright green hedges, with windows on every wall, stayed in my heart while the car followed the winding path, further and further away from the sun. “I think I’m going to like it here.”