The King's Consort Ch. 10

Home, Caitlin thought, letting exhaustion creep up on her. She felt the child inside of her, thrumming at the drum of her stomach. She was still wrapped in Kalen's arms, content to be carted around like a parcel after their assassination of the King. She almost couldn't believe it had happened, that they now lived in a world where King Eamon didn't exist.

She was almost asleep when someone swiped the hair from her face gently, the touch of fingertips lingering on her cheekbone. "Caitlin. I need you to stay awake a bit longer."

Caitlin shook her head and burrowed into his coat. "No."

"Yes," Kalen whispered in her ear. "The doctor really must take a look at your hand."

That caused her eyes to open on their own as she blinked away sleep. She took a deep breath and let her gaze settle on the curve of his lips. "She'll just stick me with needles again."

"Certainly not." His smile was warm, untroubled. "I won't let her."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He walked her out of the building and to the long car, where Janice and the others were already waiting for them. Kalen sat in the seat with her still curled up in his arms, letting one of the servants shut the door. As the car began to move, she vaguely acknowledged the other passengers, her drowsy mother, silent Lev, sleepy Edmund and... Marianne, who stared out the window with a miserable expression.

Caitlin wanted to comment, but she had no words for the servant. In fact, she was surprised Sara hadn't mentioned it was Marianne who had pawned Caitlin off in desperation. She wondered if Kalen would be merciful when he found out. "Where's Sara and Amandine?" Even Zakari was not with them in the long car, nor were Kalen's guards or Amandine's women.

Kalen's caressed her cheek, exciting her skin. "They're cleaning up, then they'll join us at the mansion."

Caitlin could feel the intensity of her mother's gaze, but couldn't bring herself to care. Janice had quite a bit more explaining to do, now that she knew her father was the 'great hunter, Abraham Van Helsing'. It rose more questions than answers. But she wondered if her heritage was linked to the fact that she was a viable consort.

Eamon had been on a rampage to corrupt and destroy her family. He seemed to find great pleasure in controlling one of Abraham's children, and in his madness, tried to claim them both. Well, she thought, clutching tighter to Kalen's jacket, he'll never have me now. She recalled again a face frothing blackness, as if purging his cruel body of its sins. It should have given her relief, though it only made her more conflicted. "Why did your father pursue me?" she asked. "I thought you said he didn't want to be usurped, but... he came after us, instead."

Kalen shook his head and a shadow cast over his eyes. "I believe it speaks to the depth of his madness. He sent his entire forces to the mansion to distract me, then followed you. Luckily, my mother was already pursuing him. She contacted me and we came as quickly as we could."

"And, our home?"

"Is fine, Caitlin. Zakari's team did their job well." He touched her nose gently, then caressed her face with a worried look. "I thought we were too late. How did you take him by surprise?"

She rolled her eyes. "Impossible, right? I am only human after all."

He shot her a deadpanned look. "You will never let that go, will you?"

"Probably not." Caitlin sighed and burrowed deeper into his shoulder. "I'm not exactly sure, though. Your father, he... he had so much energy and it must have soaked in. I think-" She rubbed her stomach, where the child had ceased doing somersaults. "-I think he helped me, too. Everything was moving so slowly. Sara was the one who finished it, really. It was all so... unreal."

"And in a moment," he said, more bemused than irritated, "you and your brother stole the glory of my kill."

She poked at one of his ribs. "I think you'll survive, 'o prince."

A strange look passed his face, one of disbelief, surprise, dismay, and something else, dread? His voice lowered to barely a whisper. "Not anymore, my Queen."

"No," she said, inclining her head slightly. "I suppose not, my King."

*

~ 5 months later ~

There were so many people assembled in the great hall, it made Caitlin's head spin.

She sat at the long table and looked out on the crowd of celebrators, both human and vampire alike. Against the far wall, she caught sight of her mother's wild mass of hair near a light buffet, which consisted of mostly beverages and fancy hours devours from Marianne's kitchen.

The servant, herself, was nowhere to be seen, but it was likely she celebrated elsewhere. Her temporary staff managed the refreshments while councilmen and their associates mingled.

Kalen had heard what transpired between Marianne and his predecessor and refused to put her on trial. Instead, he ordered protection for her sons, so they could never be used against her again. Even the council had balked at his order, but they accepted.

He was King, after all.

Tonight, was merely a formality.

Marianne claimed she felt awful about the whole ordeal, and for weeks afterwards, begged for forgiveness. Even long after they'd put it behind them, the servant still had trouble looking her in the eye. Caitlin hoped they'd be able to one day get back what they had, before Eamon.

Her mother had a row with Kalen the night of their return. Less a row and more a one-sided shouting match with Janice yelling and him listening. Kalen had taken it in stride, allowing her mother to vent before explaining his actions and apologizing to her on his father's behalf. He'd kept calm and remained stoic, looking almost amused at her mother's fury. Almost.

Caitlin sighed and straightened the black taffeta dress for the hundredth time, readjusting in her seat. Kalen was out in the crowd, mingling with his guests wearing red, velvet-trimmed tailcoat and sharp black slacks. He fit right in among his own kind, standing tall among the others, only matched by Sara's height. Her brother, not one for talking or revelry, remained near the entrance, as if he didn't trust that the mansion was safe. Or that they wouldn't be caught off-guard again.

Only a single vampire had not accepted the invitation, a one councilman James. In fact, he'd disappeared under mysterious circumstances after Amandine and her women had made their escape from Eamon's mansion. Good riddance, she thought, staring out at the crowd, not quite ready to join them in their celebration of the new King.

Caitlin had been told the women were some of Eamon's abused girls. She'd only met one of them in the beginning, but later, when they were fed and restored, they too attended Kalen's 'party', mingling with the other guests under the status of Amandine's ladies in waiting.

They followed the regal Queen around like a flock of silent geese, eyeing the crowd warily, though they seemed to be recovering from whatever horrors they'd experienced beneath Eamon. Amandine carried herself exactly as she had before the old King had taken her. Caitlin couldn't bring herself to ask what happened, though from fear or guilt, she wasn't sure.

"Mistress Caitlin," someone said in a gently accented voice, interrupting her deep contemplation. She blinked out of the daydream and turned to one of the councilwomen, looking up at the woman who'd vied for her release under the old King. She was wrapped in a rich blue sari that reached the floor and, instead of a gold circlet, she had silver pins in her long black hair to keep it up, with matching silver bangles around her thin wrists. Her deep green eyes assessed Caitlin before dipping into a shallow curtsy. "We have not had the pleasure of being properly introduced."

"No, we haven't."

Caitlin moved to stand, but the councilwoman shook her head with a smile. "No need to rise on my behalf. I only came over to inquire about your pregnancy. You look well."

"I am, thank you." Caitlin stopped herself from admitting she was having trouble moving around due to her girth. But the doctor guaranteed her she would not get any bigger. The child was fully matured for a newborn, at least from a human standpoint. They still had two more years to go. Two years, she thought weakly, rubbing the heavy bump of her belly. "I never had the chance to thank you for standing up to Eamon for me."

A trace of surprise flashed in the councilwoman's eyes, then kindness. "It is my duty to advise the King on my own master's behalf. You do not need to thank me."

"Still," Caitlin said, glancing down at her hands laced over her stomach. "I think we need all the allies we can get, at the moment." Her gaze panned around the attendees, wondering if Kalen was nervous about the next couple of hours. Surely, he was beyond such diversions. Caitlin looked back up at the woman, her eye catching on the intricate silver threading of the woman's silks before meeting her gaze. "I don't think I ever caught your name."

The councilwoman smiled warmly, showing off a beautiful set of straight, white teeth, and no fangs. "It is Parvati. In service to my master and sire, King Mridul. You should come visit us soon, once you're no longer burdened with child."

Caitlin had had enough royalty as of late, and didn't expect her feelings to change anytime soon. The mansion was about to get rather crowded with advisors, delegates, servants, guards, and citizens. But she wanted to keep their allies, didn't she? And maybe she'd feel different once she was changed. "I appreciate the offer. I will speak to Kalen about it when I can free him from the clutches of his admirers." Her eyes slid to the crowd, where Kalen was politely answering any and all inquiries of his subjects.

Parvati's laugh was a delicate chime. "Certainly. It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, Mistress Caitlin."

Caitlin lifted her hand in a weak wave. "Just Caitlin, please."

The councilwoman dipped her head with a smile and adjourned to the gathering crowd.

Caitlin's mother returned to the table with two plates full of food, one piled high with sweets and fresh fruit. "It'd be good for you to get your blood sugar up. I wouldn't be doing my grandmotherly job if I didn't fatten you up a little."

She sighed at the spread, guiltily stealing a grape from its vine. "Mom, you really didn't have to."

Janice, all dolled up in a bright orange evening gown that Amandine had gifted her, her wild hair pulled back so it cascaded over her shoulders in a mane. "Of course, I did." She smiled, rubbing Caitlin's arm. "Here, try the little cakes. Marianne really outdid herself this time."

Caitlin took one and rolled it around her palm. "Have you, you know, spoken to her recently?"

Janice's face creased with concern. "Oh, honey. I know it's been a difficult recovery, for everyone, but she's dealing with it in her own way. I wouldn't push her. She nearly lost both her sons, after all."

"I know." The little cake's hard frosting began to melt in her hand, so she set it back on the plate and scrubbed her palm with a napkin. "I just sort of feel like it's my fault. If Eamon hadn't-"

"You listen here." Her mother turned to her with a waft of flowers and soil. She grabbed her hand and squeezed. "None of what that man did is your fault. From what I understand, he went crazy centuries ago. You and your brother did the right thing." She released her hand and patted it, then paused. Janice had a strange watery gleam in her eye; when she spoke again, her voice was hoarse. "I think I misjudged you, Caitlin. I know, in the beginning, I was too hard on you. I've always been too hard on you because- well, I didn't trust that you wouldn't go running into danger, just like a Helsing. I'm starting to realize you haven't taken the path I would have, but I'm... happy for you."

Caitlin stared at her mother with a critical eye for a moment, then realized the emotions were authentic. She took her hand back and folded them in her lap, glancing down at the scar on her palm. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them ruin her makeup, or her dress. "Thanks mom."

Though the celebration continued, there was a muted silence between them, then Janice leaned forward and wrapped her in a big hug, whispering, "Anytime, honey." They sat like that for a moment before her mother broke the hug and smiled at her, her own eyes filled with tears.

Caitlin swallowed, doing her best not to cry, herself. She wouldn't.

Not today.

Before she had a chance to speak again, there was a change in the spirit of the celebration. The attendees had gone quiet, all eyes on Kalen, who separated from the crowd and came to her.

Watching him approach, her breathing hitched. He was always handsome, even with the rough scarring on his cheek, but tonight, he was utterly magnificent in his dark tailcoat and a red velvet vest, his shadow energies commanding the room to silence. His face was impassive as always, but it broke so slightly, only she noticed his hazel eyes twinkle.

Kalen was in front of her before she realized it, offering a hand. "It's time."

Caitlin accepted, glancing to her mother who only nodded an encouragement. She stood, allowing him to bear her weight as she kept a hand on her round stomach. He'd told her about the 'crowning' ceremony, but even still, the prospect of standing in front of a crowd of people - vampires or humans - made her nervous. She would stand before Kalen's entire council and many more of his delegates and subjects, all while maintaining an air of indifference. Caitlin would accept the true title of Queen tonight as he did the role of King.

Her knees were shaking before she ascended the steps of a temporary chancel at the center of the room. Her friends and loved ones, as well as allies and strangers, stepped forward to witness his coronation, though they already accepted his rule.

Over the sea of heads she noticed Sara at the back, still guarding the only door out with Zakari, Elsie, Mia - who'd recovered well from her injuries, though she was struggling to forgive Sara - and a few others from his company. He observed her for a moment, then dipped his head in reverence.

Caitlin smiled only faintly, then stage fright kicked in, and she did her best not to swoon. She took a breath as Kalen laced his arm around hers, so their hands were clasped together, as if in joined prayer.

It was Amandine who ascended the steps with something in her hands, turning to the crowd. Her magnificent midnight gown sweeping out behind her, and her long hair studded with black and gold accents that matched the dress's trim. "On behalf of the Royal family, and as mother of King Eamon's successor-" She lifted a small round cup with a black, inky substance in it. "I present to you, your new King and Queen. May their reign be fruitful and long, though," she mused, "hopefully not too long." Her words made the crowd laugh, then applaud with exuberance.

The great hall filled with the sound of their exultation and Caitlin's face flushed.

But they weren't done yet.

Amandine, taking the bowl in one hand, pressed her thumb into the substance, blackening it. She withdrew it and turned to Kalen, who bowed his head slightly.

Caitlin squeezed his hand tighter as Amandine applied the ink to his forehead, swiping across, then up, leaving a little cross above his brow. She turned to Caitlin, who genuflected slightly, doing her best to maintain a calm demeanor, though she felt anything but.

With the ink drying on her own forehead, Amandine's hand cupped her stomach, too, putting a little of the black stuff on the cloth of her dress, signifying the child's birthright. Caitlin had been told what would happen during the coronation, though living it was an entirely different experience. She'd asked Kalen what the stuff was, but he only told her, 'you don't want to know'. So, she accepted that answer. After Eamon, she decided she didn't necessarily need to know everything. Not in his world.

All eyes were on them as the crowd continued to cheer long after her ears began to ring.

Kalen glanced down at her, his eyes softening. "We made it."

Caitlin smiled up at him with a small laugh, realizing they had, in fact, made it. They were on the other side of this ordeal, and she wouldn't ever look back. Eamon's reign was over, as it should be.

Kalen's, however, was just beginning.

*

The party lasted through the night. By the time the last of the guests filed out of the great hall and into their respective vehicles, the sun was already threatening to rise on the eastern horizon.

Caitlin felt like tipping over with the weight of the little prince, and she leaned into Kalen for support. He chuckled, stroking her back. "Do you want me to take you to your room?"

His question held the promise of something more. But she had one last task in mind before she was finished with the evening. "Not yet. I wanted to speak with Marianne, first. If that's alright." She glanced up at him, unable to see him as King Kalen. Not yet.

Maybe it would grow on her.

"Of course." His eyes flashed with a trace of sadness, then he caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. "We only have a few days before my new station catches up with me. I was hoping to make the most of the early hours this morning, if you've the energy, my Queen."

Electricity coursed through her when his lips met her knuckles, and she did all she could to continue breathing. "I believe it would be appropriate, under the circumstances. I'll meet you in the master suite when I'm finished?"

"Certainly. I will be waiting." A secret grin played about his lips as he gave a slight nod, then disappeared. A trail of shadow stuff followed him, and she smiled at his afterimage.

But the smile didn't last.

She wanted to know why Marianne had not attended her own banquet. Caitlin figured the matron would be thrilled to host such an extravagant dinner. Even Edmund and Lev had attended to eat their fill of the sweets and tantalizing hor devours. And yet, Marianne hadn't made an appearance.

Caitlin adjourned from the foyer and into the dining hall, where Marianne's bedroom lay just beyond. She heard the faint sound of a zipper being driven home, of mumbling and rustlings from beyond the servant's door. "Marianne?"

The sounds stopped.

"Marianne." Caitlin knocked on the door. "Do you have a moment?"

Silence lingered, then she heard the handle turn. Marianne peeked through, seeing her, then opened the door wider. The servant wore a light windbreaker, her gray hair looking recently brushed and tidied. Marianne's guilty eyes panned over Caitlin. "You look beautiful, Caitlin. I hope the ceremony went well?"

"It did, though I didn't see you there. You worked so hard on the banquet and I didn't have a chance to thank you."

"No, I didn't have time," Marianne said wistfully, "There was enough going on that I'm sure you were well occupied, dear. I was rather busy handling my own affairs."

Caitlin's brow furrowed, as she slowly pieced together the evidence of a departure. "You're not- going anywhere, are you?"

Marianne sighed, glancing to the ground, then away. "We're beyond pretenses at this point, I suppose. Yes. I am leaving." She shook her head, as if to negate the fact. "After what happened, I just can't... I can't bear what I did to you, or to my Master. The only good thing to come of it was that Eamon showed me what was most important. My younger boy and his wife, they're going to have a child, Caitlin, and I want to be there when she's born. If I stay, I fear I will miss much of their lives. So, yes, I've decided I'm going back to the city. I'm retired as of today."