“You mean all the women have a chance, correct?” Roke growled.
“Oh my no—that would hardly be fair, now would it?” the Duke remarked. “For the Ladies must have their chance to choose new companions too, at times. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes His Highness chooses a male to be his Bride of the Night. He is a remarkably giving lover,” he added, clearly speaking from experience.
“My darling Bertie was chosen as His Majesty’s Bride of the Night just six months past,” the Duchess confided to Elli proudly, nodding at the Duke. “You can imagine the jump in our status, I’m sure.”
“Of course,” Elli murmured, frowning. She had nothing against those who loved people of their own sex, but personally, she felt sorry for anyone—man or woman—who had to spend the night with the frog-faced Crown Prince just because His Majesty said so. “I just think—” she began but at that moment someone called her name.
“Lady Ellilah the foreigner,” a male voice said.
Looking up, Elli saw that a Tenebrian nobleman with long, dark blue hair done up in elaborate curls was pointing at her.
“Excuse me?” she asked blankly, not understanding.
“I choose Lady Ellilah, the Zorel Entrancer to keep me company tonight,” the nobleman said and beckoned at her. “Come at once, my Lady!”
Nineteen
Elli was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. But surprise turned to terror in an instant. Oh my God, I can’t do this—I can’t! she thought. Because she knew it wasn’t just Supper the Tenebrian nobleman wanted her for—he wanted to take her back to his bedchamber after wards and…and…
But she couldn’t make herself finish the thought. For a long moment she just sat there, staring blankly at the Tenebrian nobleman who was beckoning to her impatiently. Then she realized there was a low, angry growling coming from behind her.
Turning her head, she saw that the sound was coming from Roke. His eyes were blood-red and he was glaring at the Tenebrian nobleman who had called Elli’s name.
Oh my Goddess! Elli thought, staring at the big warrior. He might only be half Kindred but he’s definitely going into Rage!
Rage was the state of berserker fury a Kindred warrior went into when he thought that his female was being threatened. When fully in the grip of such fury, a Kindred warrior would kill or die to protect the female he loved.
But Roke doesn’t love me, Elli thought. Why would he go into Rage for me?
She didn’t have an answer but she was afraid things were going to escalate quickly if the Tenebrian nobleman insisted on having her as his “Bride for the Night.”
Speaking of the nobleman, he clearly didn’t understand what a mess he had made for himself.
“I said, I choose Lady Ellilah—come to me,” he demanded, beckoning to Elli as though she was a tamed pet that would come on command when her name was called.
“You…fucking…dare…” Roke’s deep voice was thick with fury and his eyes were blazing. “You—”
“Lord, Villaphone, you forget your place!” The Crown Prince’s high, fruity voice rang out through the large Supper room.
Everyone looked at their Monarch, who was standing at the edge of the raised dais and looking incensed. Elli wondered if he was really angry or if he just couldn’t bear to not be the center of attention for even a moment.
“Your Highness?” The Tenebrian nobleman asked, looking concerned. “Have I erred?”
“You damn well have, Sir!” The Crown Prince glared at him, his froggy eyes bulging with fury. “The Royal Zorel Entrancer is not in your class. She is not in anyone’s class but my own, as she is a special officer that I myself have appointed! Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Villaphone bowed low. “Forgive me, please,” he added, bowing to Elli as well.
“Um…sure.” She nodded, feeling weak with relief. Behind her, she could hear that Roke had stopped growling. Good—at least he wasn’t so far gone into Rage that he couldn’t pull himself back from it.
“Leave the Supper Room,” the Crown Prince told Lord Villaphone. “There will be no companion and no Supper for you tonight!”
“Yes, Your Highness.” With an abashed look, the disgraced noble turned and fled—still barefoot—from the large Supper room.
“Now then.” The Crown Prince cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “We may continue with Supper. Everyone, please be seated.”
And he went back to his lounge to cuddle with his “Bride of the Night.”
“Um, what just happened?” Elli whispered from the corner of her mouth to the Duchess.
“Oh, there are strict rules about who may request whom as a Supper and bedchamber companion,” the Duchess whispered back. “No one of lower rank may request a companion of higher rank. I think that Lord Villaphone misunderstood your rank—which is apparently quite high.” She gave Elli a look that was half envious, half awed as she sank back against her husband’s chest on their lounge.