Mr. Maker - Rayven WoodSong (librera reader TXT) 📗

the Palace, as Elizabeth called it. As soon as we arrive the Marcos get whisked away for preparations and Jace and I get shown to our quarters. Apparently being my guardian means he gets to stay by me. Our quarters consist of a large main room, with a couch, fireplace, television,  and a ginormous bookshelf, two bedrooms, with queen sized beds, a changing room/walk in closet for my room, and two restrooms complete with jacuzzi tubs and heated toilet seats. The closet is stocked with tons of dresses ranging from modern dresses seen in the Human world now, to elegant ball gowns worn in eras past.

The Celebration of Life begins and I watch from the bedroom windows as the Vampyres below dance, drink, and are just being happy. How can they do this? Someone died. They should be sitting around mourning the loss of 1/3 their King.

"The point of the Celebration is not to ignore death. But to celebrate and acknowledge that where there is death there is life. They're rejoicing in the fact that they're still alive. The Week of Mourning is when everyone will be cooped up in their rooms mourning. Marco would expect his people, his Mate, to Celebrate their own lives, then mourn him."

I turn from watching the children twirling around some kind of pole holding ribbons. Elizabeth is standing in the doorway. Here, in the Society, Vamps don't have to wear black to disguise themselves. Elizabeth is wearing a beautiful dress that looks like it was pulled directly from the Victorian era. Her waist is even several inches smaller due to a corset. She looks nice in blue.

"I am not alive. What is there to celebrate?"

"Are you acting like this because of Marco? Or is it because Adrian left?" I stay silent. I don't know the answer. "Listen to me. I'm not happy that you've stolen my Prince. But in the little bit I've seen you two together I have seen sides of Adrian that I've never seen before. You're good for him. Adrian is... difficult. He has a short temper and often times blows up over something trivial or illogical and disappears. The time he's gone is unpredictable, but he always comes back. Even if it's a few days, a decade, century,  or even a millenia.  He'll be back. So don't let his absence bother you. It's something you'll have to get used to being his Mate." With that said,  she turns and leaves the room.

I believe her. She's known Adrian longer than I have. But I saw the way he looked at me. He'll never forgive me for this 'betrayal'.

But she's right. Blake wouldn't want me moping around while everyone else is celebrating. I go to the closet and start looking through the dresses.

"I believe this gown would look lovely on you," a female voice says. I whip around to face her. Shes holding black dress. I can't see any details other than the color.

"Who are you?" I ask, weary of the stranger.

She bows. "I am Tricia, you're Lady in Waiting, my Queen."

"My what? And what did you call me?"

"As mate to the King, you're automatically Queen. I am your servant to help you with hair and clothing."

“Why aren’t you celebrating with everyone else, Tricia?” I ask, taking the gown from her and holding it up to look at. It looks like a shapeless sack.

“My job comes first, MiLady.” She chuckles and takes the dress from me. “There are underthings for this that’ll make it looks astonishing.”

Tricia dresses me in a tight corset, bloomers, and a hoop skirt. I’m nervous about the hoopskirt, but Tricia claims that I’ll get used to it the longer I wear it. She helps me put on some stiletto heels before we put on the actual gown. Once the dress is on, and all of my laces are done, the pins my hair up into some kind of elegant half-updo, and applies light makeup to my face. She was right, with the corset, and other hoops the gown looks a lot better. My waist is drawn in tight, and my chest is pushed up. I can’t help but feel.. pretty. I’ve always wished I lived in the era of corsets and hoop skirts.

I’m looking out the window at the crowds again, wondering if I’ll actually be able to have fun down there.

“I’ll go down with you, MiLady. The King and Lady Elizabeth should be down there. I’ll take you to them.”

“Thank you, Tricia. After that, please go enjoy yourself.”

She smiles. “No worries, I will.”

All talking is quickly hushed and the band trails off when I enter the field. I can literally feel the people wondering who I am.

“Anastasia, I’m glad you joined us,” The Marcos say, standing up and both holding a hand out for me. I walk carefully towards them, being cautious of my skirt. I’ve already tripped once, and I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of all these people. When I reach them, I take each of their hands and they literally pulling me up the few steps to the raised dais.

“You look lovely, Ana.” I smile and perform an awkward curtsy. “Come, join the celebrations.”

The night passes and I actually enjoy myself. I drink plenty of blood-spiked wine and hang all over both of the Marcos. Even Elizabeth manages to be nice and not ruin the good time. I get so lost in the revelries and having a good time that I don’t think of Adrian once. Not even when I got into a heavy makeout session with Blaine and Blaire had to separate us to keep us from sealing the bond.

I wake up the next morning with a killer headache. I have no idea where I am, but considering I don’t know the Palace, at all, it’s understandable. On a positive note, I’m still dressed. Kind of. The gown is gone, and I’m left wearing just the corset, bloomers and petticoats. I have no idea where the hoop skirt went either.I stretch and my hand hits something. I sit up and turn to see both Marcos. We’re laying on an enormous bed, and it’s surprisingly comfortable, considering that me, Blaine, Blaire and Elizabeth are all sprawled on it.

I yawn and stretch again. Yawning seems pointless when you don’t need to breathe, but it’s a habit I formed.

“Good morning, Ana,”  Blaire says, stretching.

“So what happens now?”

“Now, it’s three days of mourning. Most will stay cooped up in their rooms. The kitchen will be shut down and no one in the Palace will eat, drink, or have sex.”

“What about me? I still need to drink every night.”

“You’ll have access to blood at night, just enough for you to survive. If you don’t plan on staying with me during the day, just come find me here.”

“What should I do?”

“Mourn. Your mate is dead.”

“Of course.” I climb off of the bed.

“How do I get back to my rooms?”

“I can make a guard take you, or you could teleport. You did it before.” Blaine says, stretching and cuddling up to his brother. It takes me a moment to remember that I have teleported before. From the ice cream parlor to Adrian’s apartment. I don’t know how I did it though. I ask for an escort back to my room and Jace is there.

Chapter 19

 

The Week of Mourning passes slowly. I spend the day in my rooms, with Jace, either reading or sleeping. Jace, being human is allowed to eat, but only because it’s helps him keep his energy up. I’m almost glad when it comes time for the ceremony, simply because it means I get to leave my rooms for more than a quick drink. Tricia helps me dress in what she calls ‘traditional mourning attire.’ It just an under-corset pulled tight, black bloomers and petticoats and a black, modest-cut gown. My hair is left down, at my insistence, but I do wear one of those clip-on hats with the mesh veil. I even wear blacks heels, that are ridiculously tall, and black fishnet gloves that reach my elbow. I must say, I sure look the part of grieving widow.

Jace is also dressed in all black, which, I guess shouldn’t be surprising as it’s a funeral. I'm sure most will be wearing black.  Almost as soon as we’re both ready a bell starts to toll, signifying the ceremony will be starting soon. Tricia escorts us to the room where everyone is gathered. The room is darkened, and I instantly notice the smell of incense in the air. Tricia left us at the door and Jace and I enter the room solemnly. I look around the room. I can see Elizabeth, the remaining Marcos, Lyna, and some people I don’t recognize.

“Ana,” The Marcos say, offering their hands. I take them and allow him to pull me towards two of the strangers.

“These are my parents. Lord Lucus and Lady Isabelle. Mother, father, this is my Mate, Anastasia.”

“Nice to meet you Ana. It’s a shame we had to meet under these circumstances,” Lord Lucus says, holding his hand out.

I start to rise my hand, to shake his, but a sudden entrance to the room makes my back stiffen and my hand to freeze. Adrian. Both Lucus and Isabelle exchange a glance at my sudden obvious discomfort. I don’t turn to face him. I can literally feel him approaching. He stops next to me, standing on the opposite side of the Marcos. He’s standing so close I can literally feel the waves of energy coming from him. I guess it’s possible I’m just super attuned to him.

“Mother, Father,” He says to his parents, nodding at them. Wow. Some greeting.

“Adrian. What are you doing here?” Lady Isabelle asks venomously. What the hell? It was his brother who died.

“Marco is my brother, mother. Why wouldn’t I come to his funeral?”

“You haven’t been around in the past several years. I didn’t think you’d even care.”

Irritation hits me in waves. How could she say that to her son?

Still without looking at him, I shift slightly closer and take Adrian hand. With his father glaring daggers at him, and his mother practically shouting accusations at him, he needs to know someone is on his side. Even if he doesn’t deserve my support right now. As if hearing my thoughts, he pulls his hand away, but not before his parents notice.

“Adrian! How dare you mess with your brother’s mate! He’s your King!” His mother screeches, causing me to shrink away slightly. Adrian just stares at her, letting her be nasty.

I step forward and shove Adrian behind me.

“Mr. Masters is not messing with his brothers’ mate. I was his way before I met the Marcos. How dare you accuse him of such nastiness. He may seem cold, and mean on the outside, but that’s because he’s afraid of getting hurt. And after hearing the way you speak to him, the way his mother speaks to him, I can understand why.” Having said what I want, I turn away from the Marcos’ mother and guide Adrian away.

“How dare she speak to me that way, Lucus!”

“She’s now Queen, Belle. She can speak to you anyway she pleases.”

I tune