Eternal Night

(III) Chapter 40: Hail to the Queen

A reverent, awed silence swept over the crowded chamber as all those in attendance witnessed the Dracul Sânge making their way down the center of the aisle toward the dual thrones. The newly united cadre moved as one – from each step to the slight swing in their arms. They were garbed in matching black ceremonial leathers accented in gold, the girls with long flowing overlays over their trousers, lending them the illusion of a skirt.

Rémy watched the display with conflicting feelings of both pleasure and sheer bewilderment. While the impact of what he was witnessing this evening was by no means lost to him, he couldn't seem to shake that strange feeling like he was having some kind of out of body experience. This was his life, now. Dracula and his court... being a seated member on his council... and his baby sister was just minutes away from being formally sworn in as queen.

He stole a quick side-glance at those that stood beside him – Jacob on his right, Lyra and Vesper on his left. His newly resurrected parents and youngest sister were also there, faces appropriately stoic, and beside them his aunt and uncle, his cousins... Across the aisle stood Queen Isabella of the werewolves, with her brother Tristan at her side, their sister Vivian beside him. Werewolves. Vampires. Humans. All gathered together to witness the restoration and ushering in of what promised to be a new golden age for all preternatural creatures.

This was real.

This was happening.

He had made it.

By some miracle, through all the violence and loss and chaos, Rémy had survived. He had lived to see this glorious, unprecedented moment.

And yet his eyes still searched for those that had been lost and his heart ached even as it overflowed with gratitude.

The Dracul Sânge took their places on either side of the dual thrones, the men flanked on the left where Frankie's seat resided, the women on the right.

There were unintelligible whispers throughout the crowd as many of those in attendance were stunned to see Alessia and Hal fully restored and in line with their siblings. If they were amused by the attention, they didn't show it – their faces perfectly impassive, eyes straight ahead.

Three loud knocks brought the murmuring hum to an end as the master of ceremonies pounded the end of his staff against the floor to garner attention before his booming voice announced the arrival of the king. In typical Vlad fashion, there was nothing for several long seconds as the room held its breath in anticipation. Rémy had to bite back the smirk of amusement the moment Dracula flew into the room in a blatant display of power and virility. He was in full hellbeast form – wings expanded, fangs and claws out.

He landed with a heavy thud at the foot of the dais with an animal-like growl, turning almost dramatically to look back at those in attendance with a snap of teeth. It was all for show – Rémy knew that – but even as Dracula started to melt slowly back into his human form – eyes frosty and electric, that bright shade of blue piercing stone and flesh – it was easy to forget. The man oozed authority and strength, and the way he towered there, even at the bottom of the dais, garbed in black... he was an intimidating spectacle to say the least.

But then Dracula's eyes met his for just a moment and Rémy could have sworn he saw the glimmer of a smirk tugging at the corner of Vlad's lips. Rémy broke out into a smile then, unable to help himself.

Vlad Leinhart may have turned out to be Dracula after all... but he was still the same man. There was a subtle nod of acknowledgement from the king to his queen's side of the family, and then with a masterful twirl of his cape, he turned his back to the crowd, ascending. After taking his place before his throne, Antón Bernardini emerged from the sidelines, climbing up the steps of the dais about halfway before turning to face the crowd.