The Vampire's Luna

He threw open the ornate doors to the Guard Quarters. The stale scent of cigar smoke filled his nose before he saw the man he was looking for.

Eryk, Chief of the Royal Guard, sat in his high-backed chair behind a desk, one leg casually crossed over the other. A fine curl of smoke coiled from the cigar pinched between his fingers—until he saw Damien.

"Your Highness!" Eryk sprang to his feet, the cigar dropping into an ashtray as though burned by the sheer force of Damien’s presence.

He stood to full height, straightening his back and bowing slightly.

"Eryk...I found out today," Damien continued, taking slow, deliberate steps toward his old friend, "that I had been infiltrated by Lord Gabriel... by my most trusted servant...I feel like I have been sleeping while my roof is on fire."

He stopped just in front of Eryk, the silence between them crackling. Eryk, clad in his guard uniform, stiffened as Damien reached into his waistband and drew a blade.

Damien raised it, placing the cold, glowing edge against Eryk’s throat.

"So what I would like to know is this..."

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing Eryk’s skin as the blade kissed his neck.

"How high up has the rot gone?"

Eryk’s breath caught sharply. "Your Highness!" he gasped. "I—please—"

Damien’s eyes bore into his. "You work for Gabriel."

Eryk’s eyes widened, panic blooming. His mouth parted, searching for words, for sense, for a way to breathe again.

"Your Majesty! I wouldn’t... Your Highness, you know me!" He could feel the searing warmth of the sunstone on the blade against his throat, promising agony. "I..." He stopped, choked by disbelief, then sucked in a shuddering breath. "Kill me, Your Highness. Maybe it will give you some peace."

"I thought I knew Maelis too," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"Maelis has only been with you a few years," Eryk said gently, despite the blade pressed to his neck. "After you turned him when you found him dying...You didn’t know him, you merely helped him."

There was pain in Eryk’s eyes.

"I have been with you since we were boys, Your Highness."

The memory flickered in Damien’s mind—the two of them in the old palace barracks, Their battles. Their victories.

"So if it will give you peace..." Eryk whispered, closing his eyes, baring his throat to the blade, "...kill me now."

A long silence stretched between them.

Damien took a slow step back, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The sunstone blade glimmered for a moment longer before he sheathed it silently back into the band at his waist.

"I need you to do a complete review of everyone who works as a guard."

The words were sharp, clipped, issued.

"Anyone who even has the smallest support for Gabriel’s ambitions," he continued, "I want them removed. Anyone with family—removed. Anyone who has someone they can be blackmailed with—removed."

Eryk swallowed hard. He bowed low, one hand pressed to his chest in a pledge of unwavering loyalty. "Yes, Your Highness."

Damien turned halfway. Then he paused.

"I’m sorry, Eryk."

Those three words were quiet, nearly drowned in the heavy silence, but they rang louder than any royal decree. "My family is under attack, and it seems I cannot trust anyone."

There was a vulnerability in Damien’s voice.

Eryk looked up at him, his face stricken with loyalty and pain. "I understand," he said quietly. "I will do everything to put your mind at ease. You and the queen."

The king straightened, donning his mantle of authority.

"Take Maelis to the forgotten dungeon," he said. "Put only trusted people on guard there."

"Yes, Your Highness," Eryk answered without hesitation.

*****

Luciver sat high on the throne reserved for rulers who had passed on their titles but not their influence. His back was straight but his sharp eyes missed nothing.

Then the doors opened.

Two guards flanked the queen as she entered—her presence graceful yet burdened. Luna walked in, shoulders squared, chin lifted with regal defiance. But Luciver noticed it—the small falter in her step. The way her hand briefly grazed her abdomen. The slight wince that broke across her features, masked quickly by pride.

She was in pain.

Her steps were slower than usual, betraying the fire simmering beneath her calm facade. To the council, it may have looked like the strain of responsibility—but Luciver recognized what it really was.

It was almost time.

The room was silent, thick with tension as every council member’s gaze turned toward her. Many of them saw her as a symbol. Others, a threat.

But none of them saw what Luciver saw.

Strength.

A queen stepping up because she had to.

The Head councilman stood.

"Your Highness...The Council will now begin its questioning."

As Luna lowered herself into the chair at the center of the high chamber, every movement was controlled.

She cast a brief glance toward Luciver then turned her gaze forward, straightening her spine despite the discomfort, and met the gaze of Head Councilman Richard.

"Your Highness," he began, with a slight incline of his head, "I apologize that we have you here under these conditions. And we all choose to believe that whatever you have done, you did for good reasons...But Blood City has laws," he continued, "rigid ones, put in place so that royalty do not abuse their power. It is why the Council stands beyond the throne."

His words were smooth, but the blade beneath them was clear. You may be queen, but your title does not place you above the law.

Luna gave a single nod. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, but her voice was calm.

"I understand," she said, her fingers tightening slightly in her lap as the pain throbbed again. She wasn’t sure how long she could hold out without alerting them to her condition. Her child was restless.

"I’ll save you the time," she continued, raising her chin slightly. "And I’ll tell you why I needed the blood."

There was a flicker of surprise in some of the council members’ expressions. They had expected resistance or deflection.