The screech of a chair being scraped across the floor shattered the stillness, causing my heart to skip multiple beats. "What?!"
"What do you have to say about that, young lady?" Lord Fashire's boots appeared in my line of sight. He reached down, clutching my cheeks with a cruel grip and forcing my face upward to the stunned audience. My stomach shrivelled as my gaze flitted across their feet before eventually settling on Becca's mortified expression.
The vampire Lords stared in stunned silence, their faces a silent battleground as their minds clearly struggled to process just what Lord Fashire's words meant.
Lady Gremlin's fair brows shot up in shock. A Lord I had never seen before removed his rimmed glasses, a troubled expression crossing his face. The other Lords simply sat there, eyes wide.
For a brief moment, Lady Gremlin's usually composed features revealed a flicker of distress. Matadre, normally stern and composed, stood rigid, her face etched with devastation. They both seemed at a loss for words.
"My Lord," Matadre finally spoke up, her hands gesturing helplessly at her sides. "That's... I find this to be impossible." She shook her head as if the scene unfolding before her was unimaginable. It was the first time I had seen such strong emotions from her, and it scared me. "How?" she whispered. "I vetted her myself, and..."
I averted my gaze. As though sensing my movement, his fingers dug into my cheeks even further. I winced, and he jerked my head upwards, forcing me to look up into his eyes. They emitted a faint glow with glints of red within the silver hue.
"Where did you find her?" he asked Matadre, all the while keeping his eyes on me.
My eyes watered and I mentally pleaded for the head maid to hear me.
'No. Please don't say a word.'
"She was recommended by a former servant who used to work... here," Matadre began, her voice trailing off as realization dawned upon her. Then she paled, the weight of her words settling over the chamber.
"What staff?" one of the Lords growled. I heard a deep crack, followed by the crunching sound of wood being gripped and crushed.
Matadre wasted no time in responding, distress coating her voice. "Her name is Strome. She retired six years prior. We worked together at the Northern stronghold decades before coming here." She paused, pain etched across her face as she squeezed her eyes shut. I had no idea she was close to my aunt. "I do not know which village she came from." She lowered her head, clasping her hands tightly at her stomach. "My mistake, my Lords."
A Lord rose from his seat, causing me to jolt at the sudden movement. His eyes blazed molten red, and as he took a step forward, the floor cracked underneath his foot.
Lady Gremlin stood as though to intervene. "Eden..."
But Lord Eden roared, his rage reverberating through the chamber as he brought his hand down upon the centre table, ramming it to the floor. The chamber trembled under the force of his fury.
Lady Gremlin glared at me, her green eyes blazing with contempt. I had never seen her so angry, and the contrast between her usual sweetness and this newfound fury sent fear prickling across my skin.
"Hold on. I do not smell her blood." She pointed at the wound on my shoulder and her frown deepened. "What is the meaning of this, Venti?"
Lord Fashire yanked me to my feet, and I gasped in pain. My arm felt as though it was on the verge of tearing off. Trembling under the scrutiny of the audience, I went rigid as I realized that the other pets were there too, their faces filled with fascination at what was happening before them. We had seen each other countless times before, sometimes exchanging words, other times ignoring each other. But now, I found myself in a far worse predicament than theirs, and I didn't know how to feel.
The little boy was strangely absent.
The Lord who had put his glasses back on spoke in a calm, soft voice, his words carrying a hypnotic quality. "Where are you from?"
I shook my head, taking a step back. Lord Fashire gripped my upper arm and whirled me forward. I stumbled, barely keeping my feet beneath me as I wheezed at the gnawing ache from my shoulder. Unable to take it anymore, I clawed at his hand, my eyes watering. He could hold me anywhere but there.
"Matadre," Lord Fashire growled, his eyes livid as I stared back at him. "Escort the servants and pets out."