Crap.
“Hey,” I greeted everyone. “Sorry to bust in on you guys.”
They looked from me to the stunning woman holding my arm, and back to me.
“Is it okay if I grab a plate?” I asked, realizing how nauseous I was.
The resounding answer was yes, of course, and my savior was beaming at them as she led me to an empty chair and then eased me down into it. I was surprised at how weak I was, and then there was a plate in front of me and different people were scooping various delicacies onto it for me to try.
I got a big bowl of chopped fruit, a water goblet was set close to me and quickly filled, and I picked up my fork as my angel put a cloth napkin in my lap. It was nice to be fussed over, and dragging the thick, warm crusty bread through the communal plate of olive oil almost brought tears to my eyes.
“Thank you so much,” I told the table, and they all nodded and smiled and called for me to eat already.
The woman hovered, pouring me another glass of water before she touched my hair, pushing it off my forehead, and pointed out the different items on my plate quickly before I scarfed them down.
There was pixxispad, which was swordfish steak fried in olive oil and lemon; the fresh baked crusty bread; bragioli, which was slices of beef dipped in breadcrumbs, filled with bacon, egg, and garlic that had been slow cooked in a rich wine sauce. It was amazing and melted in my mouth. There was more pastizzi, which I’d had earlier, but this one had cheese and a crushed peas mixture in it, and there was tossed green salad with ripe tomatoes, and more olives that were some of the best I’d ever had. There were many more amazing dishes I had to try while I was in Valletta, and she stood near me but didn’t sit, even when someone brought a chair for her.
“No?” I teased her. “You don’t want to sit?”
“This dress is Valentino,” she explained patiently. “One doesn’t sit.”
The stiletto heels didn’t look comfortable. “Don’t your feet hurt?”
Her smile was radiant. “Sometimes small sacrifices have to be made.”
I looked up into her face. “You’re a vampyr, aren’t you?” I asked once I was finished, leaning back in my chair, not having eaten nearly as much as I wanted but realizing that gorging wasn’t a good idea either. The food was amazing but really rich, and that would come back to bite me if I wasn’t careful. Sated, feeling infinitely better, I thanked everyone for their hospitality and then left them, still feasting, walking arm in arm with my new friend out toward the hall.
“So, do all those people work for you?” I asked her.
“They do,” she answered, walking with me, moving with the grace of a dancer in her four-inch heels. “And as they are human, they are strictly forbidden from leaving this floor. I would worry for their safety otherwise.”
“But there are laws that protect humans,” I pointed out. “The king just made it okay for vampyrs to take blood from humans, but only with their express permission.”
“That’s true,” she agreed as we descended a staircase with a guard on every step. “But many vampyrs prey on humans, draining them of blood and then disposing of the evidence. It’s easy to do, especially so close to the sea.”
“Well, it’s great that you’re so protective.”
“Mothers tend to be.”
I jolted then, catching my breath as I turned my head to look at her, utterly gobsmacked.
The eyebrow waggle I got, with her glittering jeweled eyes, made me groan.
“Now, darling, don’t fret.”
“If my manners had kicked in at any point along the way. If I’d just said, ‘Hi, my name is Jason, what’s yours?’” I muttered, horrified, wishing the ancient marble stairs would swallow me whole. “You must think I was raised in a barn.”
Her laughter was as ethereal and gorgeous as the rest of her.
“Oh God,” I groaned, utterly broken. “I wanted to make the best impression on you so you’d like me, and I brought you a gift, and—”
“A gift? For me?”
“I’m gonna go hide,” I said, turning around, ready to walk back up the stairs and return to the loft. And yes, I was a grown-up, I’d been in the army, for crissakes, and been in much tougher situations than facing the mother of the man I loved, but it was just too horrible, too cringe-worthy for words. I wanted to go to bed and bury myself under the covers, something I hadn’t done since I was five. “Please take mercy on me and have Emil drop me off something high. It’ll have the double benefit of killing me and making him really happy.”
More laughter, just as throaty and deep as the first, so infectious that I found myself smiling in spite of myself.
“I suspect that when you’re properly fed, when you’re not tired or hungry, that your manners are exquisite.”
“They’re never that great, but normally I’m at least thoughtful.”
“Darling, you thanked everyone when we left for sharing their meal with you, and you said the same to me more than twice.”
I had?
“I suspect that being appreciative is buried down deep in you.”
She was being so kind, but none of it helped my current horror. I covered my face with my hands. “I just really didn’t wanna mess up, and Tiago went over and over all the protocol and how I was supposed to call you ‘Your Majesty,’ and—”
“It’s all useless,” she said, easing my hands away from my face so she could look at me before she gently cupped my cheek. “Protocol is made to step behind when it’s needed, and brush aside when it’s not. You and I are family already,” she clarified, touching my throat, her long delicate fingers trailing over my collarbone until she reached what she was after and caught the chain that led to the carved seal, made of ancient carnelian, that spoke to my bond with the prince, her son.
“I feel so stupid,” I said, trying to smile. “I should have known; he has your nose.”
“Yes, he does,” she agreed, surprised. “No one ever notices that.”
I grinned at her.
“Give me my gift,” she ordered, every bit the queen.
Stepping around her, I leaned back on the heavy stone railing and pulled the gift bag from my breast pocket and passed it to her.
“Oh, this is lovely,” she whispered, staring at the carved gold bracelet she’d pulled from the bag, the light glinting off the metal.
“I know you probably have amazing jewels, but I remember Varic telling me that your line were healers, and that your family were druids, so I wanted to make you something, not just buy whatever, so I came up with this idea to make a bracelet with the nine sacred herbs on it, and my friend Ode, she’s a great designer, she sketched it and I made it happen.”
Her head lifted to me and her gaze held mine.
“I hope you like it; there’s only one, and see, it’s not a circle, it’s an oval, so in time it’ll conform to your wrist and you won’t even notice it,” I said hopefully. “I mean, if you end up wearing it that long. Or at all.”
I hated feeling so unsure, but I had really wanted Varic’s parents to like me, and I was terrified that I’d screwed up with one already. And probably both, because his father had to think I was a total flake with how late I was.