“That takes care of the servants and the two foreigners who don’t drink blood,” one of the cooks said, leaning against the counter and wiping the sweat from his brow with a dry cloth. A maiden washed her hands in the sink next to him, the cinnamon shade of her Rimian skin once again visible as the flour was washed down the drain.

“The lord and lady will send over the blood samples they want us to serve tonight,” she replied, nodding at a massive pair of glass cabinets filled with crystal glasses and ornate pitchers. That was for the Aeternae and the vampires. “Do we know how many guests we’re expecting?”

The cook sighed. “About fifty, in total. The lord and lady don’t want all the nobility coming over to see the foreigners, so they’ve kept the event rather low-key. Fortunately, that means fewer problems for us, as well. Nobody wants to be ogled, so I understand why they’re doing a smaller dinner than usual.”

“I wonder what they’re like,” the maid murmured. “The vampires, I mean. I hear they’re a lot like you, the Aeternae, but that they can’t be in the sunlight.”

“Yes. How sad is that, huh? To never feel the warmth on your skin?”

The maid chuckled softly. “To be fair, Visio isn’t all that sunny, anyway. There is something about your skies that I have yet to get used to. It makes everything look a bit darker… even hazy. Have you ever been to Rimia?”

“A couple of times, yes,” the cook replied, smiling. “It is sunnier, indeed. But also hotter. I don’t know how you people can stand it. I felt like I was suffocating.”

The maid pinched her forearm. “Thick skin, sir. We deal with it differently.”

“I, for one, wonder what they’re doing here,” the cook said, pursing his lips. “I’m having a hard time buying the whole ‘we were just gazing out into space and we found you, so we thought we’d come and say hello’ shtick, to be honest. There has to be more.”

The maid frowned. “Why do you say that?”

Good question, I thought. I had found their official motives rather convincing, especially since the Aeternae did not know about the tracking spells used to identify their world as the origin for the day-walking protein.

The other cooks and maids eavesdropped on the conversation, but none participated. They kept working, preparing dishes for the servants to eat tonight after the Lord and Lady Supreme’s dinner. From their rushed conversations, I understood that once they were done clearing out the guests’ table, the servants would then retreat into their own mess hall to eat. They got the food out of the way now, since some of the guests were not Aeternae or vampire, so that they would have to fire up the ovens and stoves only once.

“Think about it,” the cook said. “How many visitors have we had from other worlds, over the centuries?”

The girl shrugged. “I’m only sixteen, sir. I’ve yet to learn about these things.”

“Well, I’ll tell you. Exceedingly few. There were rumors about a foreign man coming, centuries ago, and two of Visio’s most despised criminals leaving with him to their deaths, but that is it. And we all know our worlds aren’t the only inhabited ones in this universe. They can’t be, clearly proven by our guests today. So, what are the odds that they really did just come here to make contact?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Pretty small,” the cook replied. He struck me as the kind who ate up conspiracy theories with the delight of a child lost inside a candy store. His paranoia would’ve been amusing, even, had he not actually been right.

GASP wasn’t here just to say hello, but he didn’t know that.

Leaving the kitchen behind, I still wasn’t convinced by what I was seeing and hearing. My instinct refused to let go. I couldn’t trust my own eyes and ears. After a few more minutes spent wandering through the hallways and eavesdropping on other servants as they rushed to and from the dinner hall with cutlery and fine silk napkins and all the other relevant dining accoutrements, I found the palace library.

It was a huge place, with hundreds of sturdy wooden bookcases, rows upon rows of knowledge preserved in one gigantic hall. I took my time digging through the history section. There were plenty of leather-bound volumes for me to study, though I doubted I had enough hours on the clock to get a clear picture of this place. Hopefully, one of the higher Reapers would be in touch with details—if they had any. Something told me I wasn’t going to get the truth out of Visio as easily as I might have hoped. Again, that was my instinct telling me things.

Among the books I perused, there was a written history recorded by one of the former Nasani lords, a certain Devyn Nasani, father of Imelda Nasani—known mother of Acheron. Devyn’s account of the Aeternae’s development seemed to cover the first million years, and, judging by the book’s size and thickness alone, it was certainly comprehensive and rich in details. Flipping through the pages, I found illustrations that accompanied the text, including maps of the early Aeternae kingdoms, long before they were unified into an empire and at least one million years before they looked to Rimia for blood.

No one saw or heard me as I read some of the passages penned by Devyn, but I had to stop, eventually, as a couple of familiar voices echoed through the library, getting closer with every step they took. I left the books on the study table and moved back, watching as Kalon and his mother, Petra Visentis, walked in.

“Do you think it’s safe to let the foreigners wander through the palace?” Kalon asked Petra, who’d changed into a dark purple velvet dress, which brought out the silver in her long hair. She stopped by the study table, staring at the books I’d left there for a few moments, probably wondering who’d taken them off the shelf. Who’d found them interesting enough to read.

“Why would we have to worry about them?” Petra replied, eventually, as Kalon circled the table, his gaze wandering around absently. This was a good opportunity for me to listen in, to figure out what sort of people they were. “We have nothing to hide.”

Kalon shot her a cold grin. “Please, Mother, don’t talk to me like I’m one of them.”

“Darling, there are security measures in place,” Petra said, one hand resting on top of the books. For a moment, I felt a chill run through my bones, like a late-night winter wind catching me outside, cutting through me, freezing my senses. “We have nothing to fear.”

“They’re curious, you know that. They ask questions. They always want to know more,” Kalon muttered, crossing his arms. “Frankly, I find that endearing. But I doubt it’ll end well for you.”

Petra laughed. It was a cold guffaw, as cold as her stare. “Don’t be ridiculous. Should the foreigners threaten our way of life, including our trade deals for the blood of Rimians and Naloreans, they will be made aware of the consequences. They’re not here to meddle, Kalon. We both know they want something from us, and, judging by what you’ve just told me, it’s got something to do with that day-walking protein they swoon over.”

“They want our blood.”

“Exactly. And they will not dare start a diplomatic scuffle with us. Not only because they don’t fully grasp our governmental system, but also because we have the one thing they desire the most,” Petra said.

They were definitely hiding something. But they understood GASP’s weakness at this point. They knew how to play their cards right, without starting an unnecessary conflict. I knew Derek had no intention of policing these people in any way, though I doubted he’d be able to stop himself if he did come across any violations. It was in his nature, in GASP’s code, for that matter, to help the oppressed.

However, for now, they had to play nice. Petra had a point. The Aeternae had the upper hand here, and Derek had to follow their lead if he was to get any closer to a day-walking cure for all the vampires.

“If it’s the blood they want, we should just give them as much as they need and send them on their way,” Kalon suggested. “We might as well give them one or two of our criminals, like the lord and lady did with Marlowe. That way, they won’t be coming back for more. They’ll stay away.”

Petra’s eyes became two icy slits as she looked at him. “Explain something to me, darling. Why are you so keen to see them leave? I thought, out of all people, you’d be the most excited to have foreigners around.”

“The Black Fever is making a comeback, Mother,” Kalon warned her. “And you know how dangerous that can be. If the vampires are vulnerable to it, even in the slightest, they might end up bringing it back to their home. Or worse, their non-vampire friends might become carriers without even realizing it, much like the Naloreans and the Rimians before them.”

Petra smiled. “It’s not going to happen,” she said. “That’s not how the Black Fever works. It only targets us, the Aeternae. It’s our punishment.”

“Our punishment for what?”

“None of your business,” she shot back. “You may be my son, Kalon, but I do not trust you enough to give you the truth. You might not be able to cope with it. Leave it, please. And do not worry. I will keep you and your brothers safe when the Black Fever returns. I’ve kept you all safe before, long before you were even born, and I will do it again.”

Kalon shook his head, visibly angered. “Your lack of confidence in me is insulting.”

“Chalk it up to your rebellious nature. You’ve foiled my plans before. You won’t do it again,” Petra replied dryly. There was history between this mother and her son, and it wasn’t the good kind. There was distrust. Suspicion. One lied to the other. This was something I could work to my advantage if I wanted solid intel. I would only have to figure out a way to get inside Kalon’s mind, to uncover the secrets he was keeping. Petra, on the other hand, worried me. She seemed determined to push everyone out, including her own son, in order to protect a higher interest.

Moving away from the table, she pointed a finger at her son. “You keep doing what you’re doing. Talk to them. Get close to them. Make sure they’re busy and constantly entertained. Dazzle them with one of your tournaments in the Blood Arena. I don’t care.”

“There are already Aeternae falling ill from the Black Fever,” Kalon snapped. “Soon enough, we’ll have an outbreak on our hands. Do we really need to concern ourselves with the foreigners, as well?”

“Forget about the Black Fever!” Petra shouted, having lost her patience. She could be downright scary, making Kalon quiver, ever so slightly. “We survived the last outbreak, five thousand years ago, and we’ll survive the next one, too. In fact, I’m going to make sure we don’t lose as many as we did before. I may have figured out a cure.”

Kalon’s eyes grew wide with shock. “A cure?”

“Go, Kalon. Keep our guests busy. Let me handle the Black Fever and stop making me repeat myself! It’s annoying. Go!”

He exhaled sharply, dying to say something in return. But he gave up and walked out of the library, while Petra turned around, gazing at the far end, where a small wooden door awaited, a padlock firmly in place to keep everyone out.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and I knew she was weaving plans with every breath she took. Machinations and schemes that might get innocent people hurt. That might bend the limits of ethics and morality. I finally understood what made Petra tick. It was laughing in the face of death, and with my mistress currently out of commission, it wasn’t hard to think that the odds might be in Petra’s favor, this time around, without her even knowing it.

I’d have to keep an eye on them all, but my omniscience was already starting to take its toll on me. My vision became foggy, and I was forced to go back to the gazebo, where my other half awaited. I’d go back to Petra soon.

Tristan

We were left with Valaine in the gazebo, as Kalon, then Danika and Acheron, excused themselves. Not that I minded their departure. It made asking Valaine the right questions much easier. The gold guards were gone, too, and only a handful of servants lingered around, ready to assist us if we needed anything.