“Vampires, of course, with their human underlings. The sort threatened by our stature, for they do not realize that the victory of one class is a victory for each and every one of us. But the sacrifice of our brave pensmiths was not in vain,” the Ram continued. “We will usher in a new time for Ettenia, a new age.”
A hum echoed through the crowd, rife with excitement.
That was when Arthie stood.
54ARTHIE
Arthie’s heart was in her throat when she stood with the cool, bronze mask over her face, her shoulders squared. Beside her, the Council members asked if something was amiss. The Ram was barely feet away, basking in the cheers of her people. What did they cheer for? The Ram had promised nothing tangible.
Arthie, on the other hand, would give them something tangible. She took two steps toward the Ram, her hands inching higher and higher.
Until she froze.
For the Ram rang that bell one more time, ensuring every single errant eye was on her.
Then she reached behind her head and removed the mask of the Ettenian monarch herself, dropping her cloak in one fell swoop, and revealing her identity as Lady Linden to each of her handpicked guests.
55ARTHIE
Arthie had known since she’d met Flick that Lady Linden cared deeply for her image. Arthie had counted on that, counted on high society to shun her, destroy her, and ultimately force her to step down from the role of monarch.
She never once imagined an outcome in which the Ram would unmask herself.
The Ram had to know her guests wouldn’t applaud her. Arthie could already hear the whispers of shock and dismay, which meant the Ram could too.
Is that—dear me, that’s Linden! Of the EJC!
Hold on a moment now! It’s no surprise my requests were denied.
That’swhy Elizabeth was turned away. Linden never did like us.
Now we know why our contract ended shortly after her coronation.
Scorn heated the room more than the Ceylani sun ever could. Whispers began to mount. In the stirring crowd, Jin and the others looked as confused as Arthie felt. Why would a woman obsessed with her image, a woman consumed by the public’s view of her, do such a thing before an entire class of people?
Arthie thought of the common criminals who ran the streets while masked, only ever removing them for one reason. She thought of the moment in the carriage when she had asked the Ram how she kept the ruse for twenty years, splitting her identity as two powerful Ettenian figures.
She killed the ones who knew.
Matteo was wrong, the Ram hadn’t meant to unleash an army of half vampires onto the streets. She had meant to unleash themhere. It was as the lords and ladies claimed: Every contract went to the EJC. The Ram didn’t need them any more than she needed the Council seated behind her.
But would the Ram go to such lengths?
In answer, her black-clad forces sealed the doors closed, and only then did Arthie realize they were quite like the vault-like door they’d encountered in Ceylan. But the crowd was too caught up in the Ram’s reveal to pay attention to their surroundings—and really, whendidthe rich pay attention to anything but their own person? They thought themselves as immortal as vampires.
Arthie watched as the Ram lifted her little bell and rang it again—three short bursts in a row. That wasn’t an attempt at getting attention.
It was a signal.
But there was one large problem with her plan: Her vampires would not come. Jin and Flick had freed the captives before they could be turned. BeforeArthiecould be forced to turn them.
“It seems we truly are quite similar,” Arthie said behind her, removing her borrowed mask and dropping her cloak. The Ram didn’t look shocked in the slightest, almost as though she had expected Arthie to be here. The Council gasped, several of them scolding her as if she were a child.
The lords and ladies recognized her in an instant.
That’s the Casimir girl.
The one who ran that tearoom!
