Theoretically, the prince’s bodyguard was a far easier position than serving in the army along the northern edge of Eleyta, which was what she’d been doing for the past twenty years. All she had to do was protect Prince Marius and keep him alive.
When she’d accepted the position, swearing a blood vow to keep him safe, she thought it would be akin to retirement.
Evidently, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
She still hadn’t reached the balcony. Why was this ballroom so massive?
Someone called Vivienne’s name, but she ignored them. She couldn’t waste any time. Her gaze swept over the guests as if she could miraculously conjure the prince.
It didn’t work.
How could a single halfling cause so much trouble? It wasn’t like Marius Wisethorn, halfling Prince of Eleyta, had wings or shadows.
If someone hurt him…
Her blood turned to ice at the thought. Being staked would be the least of her problems if her charge were harmed.
The prince’s sister, Queen Luna, was known throughout Eleyta for two things: her ability to wield sunlight and her love for her brother, the only surviving member of her family.
If the prince was hurt, or goddess-forbid, died on Vivienne’s watch, the king would undoubtedly find a plethora of horrible ways to draw out her inevitable death. It would be punishment for failing at her duties and inflicting emotional damage on his bride.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Finally, Vivienne reached the balcony.
The cold midsummer night air swept across her skin, embracing her like a lover. Her fingers curled into fists, and she rushed across the marble platform. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze swung left, then right.
Where is he?
Two women stood in the shadows, hands exploring each other as they embraced passionately. Other than the pair of lovers, the balcony was empty.
Vivienne cursed.
Turning her back on the women to give them privacy, she leaned over the marble railing and studied the landscape. Mountains rose in the distance, snow decorating their tips. Emerald trees reached for the midnight sky, seeking to touch the stars. Dark green, almost black leaves rustled in the wind. A wolf howled. Trees shook. Birds flew, disturbed by something far off in the distance.
Ithenmyr was beautiful, all trees and mountains and green, flourishing life.
At another time, Vivienne would’ve paused and admired it. This was the type of scene she used to love painting.
But this wasn’t the time for art.
She turned her attention to the moonlit lawn. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she searched the manicured grounds for the prince. Her gaze landed on an elven couple leaning against a tree, but both were horned, unlike Marius. Neither of them looked at her.
Vivienne kept searching, unwilling to give up without looking everywhere for the prince.
Her heart beat more frantically with each passing second.
Maybe he’d slipped past her and gone back inside?
She was moments away from returning to the ballroom when a whisper of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
“Oh, thank all the gods.” Crossing her chest in a religious gesture, she sent a prayer of relief to the goddess of the moon.
The prince was a hundred feet away, shrouded in shadows and leaning against a brick wall.
Marius’s black silk tunic and tailored pants blended into the night, but there was no mistaking the slight curve of his ear nor the wave of his brown hair. His arms were crossed, and he nodded, speaking to a vampire wearing livery that marked him as one of the king’s messengers.
Vivienne pressed herself against the shadows. Although Isvana, the goddess of the moon, hadn’t blessed her with the dark wisps of magic that some vampires controlled, her training allowed her to move like a phantom when the situation called for it.