Of the Blood
Disclaimer: see Chapter I
Dragon Hunter1 and Cynewulf: thanks for your encouraging reviews. Publishing a story can be just like giving away a box of chocolates: you never know what kind of reaction you're gonna get...
Chapter II
Breakfast at Amber's
When Gérard woke up in his royal bedchambers, it was early afternoon. He felt worse than usual: his stomach was a little queasy and his head seemed as clouded as the sky outside. Probably nothing, however, that a good breakfast wouldn't help. He shaved and washed himself, then went to the kitchen and ordered breakfast: fried eggs with bacon, and lots of sausages. As the cooks went to work, Gérard entered the dining room.
Despite the time, two of his siblings were present, eating in silence. One was sister Fiona, starting the day with a bowl of fresh fruit and yoghurt, carefully orchestrating each movement her spoon made on the long way from the bowl to her small mouth. Probably been reading or 'doing research' all night again; Fiona was prone to do that.
The other one was Benedict, Gérards eldest brother, working his way through a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese which he cut up with surgical precision, as if he was defusing a bomb. Gérard frowned: Benedict usually was an early riser. Perhaps he was already having lunch.
Gérard seated himself. The others acknowledged his presence with a curt nod, then resumed eating. Within short, the cook brought him a plate full of sizzling eggs and bacon and delicious-smelling sausages.
"Done anything interesting last night?" Fiona asked suddenly.
Gérard shrugged, his mouth full of sausage. Fiona, like all family members, was not a type for small talk. And he had no intention of revealing yesterday's unfortunate incident.
"Been out," he said, "had a drink." Gérard carefully looked away: Fiona's clear gaze could probably read the truth in his eyes if he wasn't careful, down to the exact number of times he'd scratched his ass. She was a master in reading eyes.
"Fire," Benedict noted without looking up.
"What?" Gérard asked.
"Vampires fear fire," Benedict explained, as if he was lecturing a small child. "Had you carried a lantern, you wouldn't have had any trouble."
Gérard was baffled. How could the man probably...?
Then he realized. In turning away from Fiona, he had exposed his neck to Benedict. And as his sister was an expert in reading eyes, his older brother was an expert in reading scars.
"It was an advanced shadow," Gérard protested. "A lantern would have looked... silly."
Benedict actually looked up and glanced at his brother before resuming lunch. The glance said so much as that no sane shadow dweller would dare to call a man like Gérard silly, so taking a lantern would have been no problem at all, on the contrary, it would have been a sensible precaution given the dangers of some shadows, especially as Gérard was a Prince of Amber, who should take exemplary care of himself since his head would be a valuable prize for so many, which was the reason that Benedict himself had trained him in all kinds of combat situations for years and years on end, not to mention all the invaluable advice Gérard had received from the man who had confronted and defeated the vampire lords of the dismal shadow of Ravenloft armed only with a fruit knife and a book of matches while Gérard was still wetting his diapers, and that therefore he would appreciate Gérard listening to him, just now and then.
There was only one habit of Benedict that Gérard found more annoying than his constant lecturing, and that was that he always was so bloody right. Then again, Benedict was probably sincerly concerned for his well-being, which was more than he could say of certain other siblings.
"A vampire. Interesting," Fiona remarked in an uninterested tone, which could mean she found it interesting after all. Gérard had no mind for wordplay, however. He wolfed down his last sausages in silence and went away. Soon, he would be sailing on the ocean again without any family members around, and peacefully forget all about last night.
Fiona, however, wouldn't.