“I had my twins after I was turned. One of them wished to become an Aeternae, so I helped him secure the riches he needed. The other… she chose to age and leave me and her brother,” Maylin said, lowering her gaze.
“Hold on. So, you have to pay to become an Aeternae?” Nethissis asked.
“Most of the time, yes,” Petra said. “You see, the gift of becoming an Aeternae is incredibly precious. Immortality is an honor we cannot bestow on just anyone. The pretenders must prove that they will do what it takes; they must prove that they understand what a privilege it is.”
“Few have been the cases in which a turning has been simply… gifted,” Zoltan added. “Usually, the Rimians and the Naloreans must pay a hefty price. Fortunes that many do not have. Beryn is a good example. The second option is through the tournaments, the path Maylin took. Risking one’s life for the sake of living forever.”
“Either way, we’ve earned our seats at the table,” Beryn declared.
It drew Danika’s ire, though she kept her composure and grace. “We, the Aeternae, have been nothing but respectful toward you and all the others we’ve turned.”
“True. But it doesn’t mean you like us,” Maylin cut in with a cold grin. “After all, we’re intruders into your way of life. Someone allowed this to happen all those years ago, and you know you can’t change the laws now. Not without stirring an uprising. Five thousand of us is no joke, is it?”
Suddenly, previously unknown tensions between their species began to arise. There was bitterness coming from the Aeternae. If Maylin was right, it meant that the Aeternae did not really want to turn others, but they did it anyway, due to old laws and traditions.
“You’re talking nonsense,” Danika muttered.
“We like almost everybody,” Acheron added. “But if you’re going to be rude and gratuitously mean, Maylin, we can always rescind the dinner invitations.”
Maylin feigned shock, while Beryn pinched the bridge of his nose. I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time she was stirring trouble here. “Oh, no… Then where will I go for all the cheap theatricals? Goodness gracious!”
“What Maylin means to say is that not all the Aeternae approve of other species being turned, regardless of the laws of the land,” Beryn said, his tone clipped in a bid to temper the former Nalorean.
Maylin scoffed, but she didn’t engage Danika or Acheron any further. Clearly, respect for the Lord and Lady Supreme could only stretch so far for creatures like her and Beryn. They weren’t afraid to speak their minds, and I was willing to bet it was because they’d been turned, thus standing a better chance against their makers.
“It’s natural that there are disagreements between your species,” Esme replied, trying to recalibrate the mood around the table. “The Aeternae are the supreme predators, the top of the food chain, and the ruling class, while the Rimians and Naloreans are comfortably subjugated and subservient. When one ascends from a lower to a higher level, that’s when the more uncomfortable truths come out. I think it’s okay for you all to disagree on certain things. To not like one another, even. I’d have been more suspicious if you were trying to sell us some utopic fantasy in which everybody gets along with everybody.”
Acheron laughed. “I like you, Esme Vaughn. You speak your mind without fear. It’s a rare quality in people.”
“Yes, she’s quite the firecracker, isn’t she?” Petra said, her eyes small and charged with venom as she looked at my sister. I didn’t like her. I didn’t like her one bit, and the fact that she wasn’t hiding her animosity toward Esme was all the more concerning.
Kalon shot his mother a cold stare. “She’s infinitely superior to most of the Aeternae women I’ve come across. Present company excluded, of course,” he said, and it was enough to soften Petra’s expression.
I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to see him stick up for Esme, though I did wonder what Petra had in mind regarding my sister. This was something I’d have to investigate later down the line. Maybe tomorrow night, when Esme and I had agreed to do our invisible tour of the palace, unsupervised.
Valaine smiled. “As you can see, we’re not a perfect society. Not even a perfect species, as much as we’d like to think otherwise.”
“Perfection is overrated, if you ask me,” I said to her. “There’s more charm and excitement in a family drama or a territorial skirmish than in permanent peace and harmony. I don’t think we’re designed for such dreamworlds, anyway.”
“We definitely aren’t,” Zoltan replied. “Hence our Blood Arena and predilection for deadly duels.”
“You know what? I’m going to go ahead and say it, since no one else will,” Acheron interjected, looking at Kalon. “You handled yourself very well today, Lord Visentis.”
“I’m thankful for your grace and righteousness.” Clayne Mefithi finally spoke. The rest of the noble Aeternae had been murmuring among themselves at the other end of the table, occasionally smiling and nodding at anything that Danika and Acheron had to say. They didn’t seem all that happy to be with us tonight, but to be honest, I didn’t really mind that. It meant that maybe they had something to hide. I was always a fan of a good mystery. “And I apologize for the offense that my son committed today. I cannot stress that enough.”
Unlike his son, Clayne was a slender Aeternae, with ginger curls and bright green eyes. Kindness radiated from him like scorching heat waves—the complete opposite of Demetrius. How had his son turned out to be such a bloodthirsty psychopath? I didn’t believe in the nature of monsters. I was firmly convinced that they were made, not born. Demetrius couldn’t have been designed evil from his mother’s womb.
Kalon gave Clayne a faint nod. “I know you bear no responsibility for his actions, Lord Mefithi.”
“It’s why I invited him for dinner tonight,” Acheron said. “What happened in the Blood Arena should stay in the Blood Arena.”
“Only it won’t,” Petra cut in, still angry about the duel. “Call off your fight with Demetrius, Kalon, before it’s too late. Let him pay Krassus’s family and be done with it.”
“You think gold will make Krassus’s children feel better?” Kalon shot back. “What would you do if someone killed me after I yielded in a tournament, Mother? I guarantee you’d want their head on a spike. You wouldn’t take anything else from them.”
“It’s bad enough I have to watch you fight in those mindless tournaments,” Petra hissed. “There are better things you could do with your time. A Nalorean died, and the referees drew their conclusions. Leave it at that!”
Clayne shook his head slowly, staring at his crystal cup. “I must apologize. It’s because of my son’s poor decisions that you’re arguing right now. I do not wish to cause more strife in your family.”
“Don’t worry about it, Lord Mefithi,” Kalon replied, eyeing his mother. “The high priestess simply has trouble understanding that she no longer controls her son. Her sons, actually. Our youngest brother might still be in her grasp, but he’ll grow out of it, too. We’re allowed to make our own destiny.”
“Speaking of which,” Zoltan said. “Lord Visentis, there is a council meeting I’d like you to attend sometime next week. It involves some administrative changes around the palace and its neighborhood. I think the high priestess has wanted you to get involved in affairs of the empire before.”
I remembered Valaine telling us that Kalon didn’t have a specific role assigned anywhere, but that he’d been groomed to someday become Lord Supreme. Of course, there were doubts that the Nasani dynasty would step down anytime soon, but it hadn’t stopped Petra from channeling all her resources into making sure that her son was more than ready for the challenge.
It was also interesting to hear about Kalon’s brothers. I hadn’t met any of them yet, but I figured that would happen soon. The family dynamic of the Aeternae was certainly part of my area of interest, from an anthropological point of view.
“It would be my pleasure,” Kalon replied after a long pause. It seemed to please his mother, who leaned back into her tall chair and took a long sip of spiced blood from a flute-shaped crystal glass.
Beryn cleared his throat, drawing our attention. His eyes were fixed on Derek and Sofia, and his expression made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I didn’t need to be a sentry to sense the mild aggression coming off him. My instincts were quite sharp.
“So, have you found what you were looking for?” he asked.
Derek frowned, looking slightly confused. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t tell me you expect us to believe you’re just visiting. It’s a tad absurd, given that I hear you’ll be running blood tests on our people soon,” Beryn said.
Danika straightened her back, suddenly uncomfortable. Acheron’s eyes threw darts at Beryn. Hell, no one at the table liked where this conversation was headed—including our group. Maylin, on the other hand, was smiling. She and Beryn must’ve talked about this before dinner.
