We made our way down the hall, and even from this distance, we could hear the revelry—loud chatter and laughs, screams and shrieks disturbing the night. The crowd was boisterous and likely reckless. I had no doubt our people would take full advantage of the festivities offered. We were all trying to escape the reality of the last week and the knowledge that tomorrow, when we awoke, we would face it once again.

The foyer was crowded with people. Some were drinking, some were dancing, others were fucking. The doors were open to the courtyard where a fire raged, and the air was full of smells, the strongest of which was the rotting flesh of the impaled bodies at the gate, though no one seemed to mind.

“My queen!” a man shouted. “Everyone, the queen is here!”

And suddenly, the crowd gathered began to chant, “Long live the queen!”

They were all drunk and happy, clearly forgetting my earlier departure from court, as Ana tugged me along into the hall.

It was far warmer here and just as crowded. I could only walk because the chanting from the foyer had carried into this room, and those gathered created a path for me—straight to Adrian, who sat at his high table. Daroc and Sorin were among those seated to his left while the chairs beside him were empty—one for me and one for Ana.

“Adrian may eat you alive,” Ana commented as we approached.

I held his gaze, which was darkening by the minute. What had he told me earlier? That he wanted to fuck me before his court?

Adrian stood to take my hand as he escorted me up the steps to my place beside him.

“You look beautiful,” he said as we sat, and I did not speak. “Will you be cross with me all evening?”

Instead of responding, I took a sip of wine.

“So we have progressed to the silent treatment?”

Once more, I was quiet, though not speaking to him took far more discipline than I expected. I wanted to look at him and I had things to say, but none of them were for this space.

I thought that perhaps he had given up on getting my attention when he spoke again.

“Will you not eat?” he asked, and the way he posed the question—warm and gentle—I could not help looking at him. He leaned toward me, a plum in hand. The fruit was dark in color—a rich purple that promised sweetness.

Adrian waited, patient, and I took his hand and drew the plum to my lips, holding his gaze until the skin gave way beneath my bite. For a moment, I let myself wonder if this was how it felt when Adrian took my blood. My mouth was instantly flooded with sweet nectar, and as it dripped down my chin. I gathered it with a swipe of my finger.