"And what of Lady Gunner? Did she not make it back?"
The room was silent, save for the Queen's single inquiry. Kharis and her beloved stood in the background, as her brother knelt before her majesty. Baldassare's face was turned down, and his voice seeped out as dark as the grave. The throne room had a most somber of atmospheres.
But, with his face angled so it could not have been seen, a sinister smirk crept across the vampire's face.
"I'm afraid that she perished the night before our guests arrived. As I've been told, she died protecting what few refugees of Haven had made it to the borders of our fair city. Sadly, the peril that they found themselves besieged by proved too immense, and, after our Lady Ambassador fell to her foes, they overwhelmed the survivors. My sister and her beloved were the only ones to survive, save for the priest and that terrifying woman."
"Do not speak ill of our guest, Baldassare, in her presence or otherwise," the Queen said immediately, keeping her graces as she contemplated the tale she'd been told. What a tragedy, for them to have made it so far, only to be cut down at the very end.
The Queen glanced at Kharis and the Banshee. The vampiress no longer looked as she had when she entered the city. Baldassare had restored her to her former body, and she was complete once again. It was a godsend that she'd been revived in spirit by that wight, and a miracle that her body had been recovered.
It was a small consolation for the losses they had all suffered.
While it was true that Haven had been a mere shadow of what it once was, it was still a place of deep spiritual energy and, until its troubles began a few years ago, a sanctuary for lost souls. But now it was no more. Burned to the ground, according to the reports.
At least a few of its citizens had survived. They were welcome in the city, of course, and this would be where they could rebuild. Arxium was the seat of the throne, the center of the great empire that the Queen's ancestors had built.
But this tragedy was an omen, and the Queen could feel the cold kiss of fate caressing her nape. Something was coming, and Arxium would need to be prepared for it. She would make sure it was, for the sake of her people. She knew not what dangers lay ahead, nor had she any way of knowing that the threats came from within, and were already creeping over the Arxian skies with a kind of malice few would ever have the misfortune of encountering.
Out in the courtyard, Zami was experiencing a similar feeling of gloom. Whether it was simply paranoia or a sign to be feared, she could not tell, but it bothered her nonetheless. Worse yet, the Queen would never believe the truth. Even if she would, there was no getting to her so long as Baldassare lived.
That bastard would pay for his crimes. Zami would make sure of it.
But there was something worse than him in this city. That much she knew. And sooner or later, it would come to haunt them all, gifting them nightmares far worse than the ones that already kept her up at night.
War was coming, and it wasn't going to be the kind that a normal army could keep at bay.
Faeries & Legends
