Blood Prince (Heir of the Blood Curse) Read online

  “To the stars that grant wishes.” Veronica held up her goblet in salute before drinking it slowly as though she was savouring every last drop.

  Toviah watched on in horror. What had he done? “I must leave Countess. Until next time.” He bowed before he adjusted his pants and escaped the gondola.

  Toviah dared not look back, he did not know how quickly the poison took effect and he did not want to find out. His heart beat against his chest so rapidly it felt as though any minute it would most certainly stop. Toviah rowed himself back to his palace, leaving his cousin and his mistake behind.

  Chapter Six

  The aroma of baked goods wafted under Toviah’s nose, he rolled over in his palatial bed and pulled the silk sheets over his head to rid his eyes of the morning light. His head pounded in beat with is heart, and a sickly feeling sat heavy in his stomach. A knock at his door made him jump from his bed.

  “Who is it?”

  “Your breakfast, my Prince,” the servant announced.

  “Leave it at my door.”

  “I cannot, I have been ordered to ensure you are awake and ready for the days festivities.”

  Toviah huffed in defeat and opened the door to see the Seer holding his breakfast tray. He stumbled back in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I am checking up on you, my Prince. I am certain you are in danger.”

  “Come in at once.” Toviah glanced up and down the hall before he shut the door behind the Seer.

  “Please I beg you, do not leave the palace after dark on the eve of the Blood Moon.”

  “Hush will you. Someone will hear.” Toviah stepped onto the balcony indicating for the Seer to follow.

  “My apologies, my Prince.” The Seer bowed his head.

  “Why are you so concerned with my wellbeing?”

  “You are the Crown Prince, the people of Venezia adore you and I do not want to see harm come to you.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Toviah glared.

  “What is coming your way, I am doubtful even the strongest of witch could ward off.”

  “What exactly is coming my way? If you would tell me, I could keep a look out for it.”

  “Evil is coming. Evil so dark that it cannot bear the sunlight.”

  “What are you saying, spit it out.” Toviah slammed his hand on the balustrade.

  “I cannot say exactly, my Prince, I only have visions. I swear on my own life that evil is bestowed upon you and you need to be vigilant. Do not leave the palace after dark.”

  “You speak such nonsense,” Toviah chuckled.

  “The intruder in your lovers house was hired by the Queen to uncover information on the one you chose for your First Dance,” the Seer stated.

  “You do not know that for sure.”

  “I do know that if you venture into the guards quarters, the distinct smell of tobacco and mint lingers.”

  Toviah looked at the Seer in bewilderment. He knew the scent so well, yet could not place it when he chased after the intruder. “How did you?” His voice trailed off.

  “I have said before, I know much more than anyone cares to know. It is a burden I am willing to carry if it means I can protect the ones that matter.”

  “I don’t understand why all of a sudden I am targeted?”

  “The timing of the Blood Moon will foretell the fate of the future King. These events were written long ago, we cannot change the path our fate holds unless we are forewarned. I am only here to guide you, my Prince, I am not here to tell you the path you should take.”

  The Seer disappeared into the morning rays, as though he stepped into a rip in the world, right in front of Toviah’s astonished eyes. Toviah looked around his now empty balcony and shook his head to clear his thoughts, had the Seer been here in is room or had he just imagined it?

  “Toviah, are you awake?” The King’s voice echoed through the door.

  “Come in father.”

  The King stepped through the door and closed it behind him. He wore a look of disappointment on his face, his shoulders usually square with authority were now sagging with defeat. Toviah’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, thoughts of escaping the island of the dead and leaving his cousin behind swirled through his conscience. He sat down on the bed, his legs about to give out from under him.

  “My son, I have questions.” The King sat next to his son.

  Toviah looked at his father, their eyes level. Toviah was not the little boy who the Kingdom allowed to avoid punishment anymore.

  “Ask away.”

  “Last night, a mass murder occurred on the forbidden island.”

  Toviah’s world began to spin on its axis, he held on to his knees for support. “Where’s Bastian.” His eyes were crazed with guilt.

  “Asleep in his room. Why do you ask?” The King looked at his son with suspicion.

  “Is he harmed?”

  “No and neither is his friend. Not any thanks to you.” The King folded his hands on his lap.

  Relief washed over Toviah and he fell back on to his bed, a whoosh of air escaping his lips.

  “Sit up son.”

  Toviah did as he was told and stared at the ground in front of him.

  “Why were you on the island of the dead?”

  “For fun.” Toviah’s voice was small.

  “For fun,” the King repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me then, why did you leave your cousin and his friend behind?”

  “I lost them during the night, I left because I stumbled upon pure evil.” Toviah did not think his twist to the truth was too much of a lie.

  “You thought leaving was the best decision?”

  “Yes.”

  “Next time, do not leave behind those you take with you. Understand?” The King placed his hand on his son’s knee.

  “I understand.”

  “Also understand you are to never set foot on that island again.” The King stood up ready to leave the room.

  “Father.” Toviah stood up after him.

  “Do you know the names of those who were murdered?” Toviah swallowed the bile rising up his throat.

  “Not yet.” The King looked at his son for a moment before leaving the room.

  Toviah slumped on to his bed, his heart raced and a cold sweat washed over his entire being. He could not dwell on the pure evil he had inflicted on the Countess, he could only hope it was painless and quick. He would surely suffer for his actions, to take another life is deemed sinful in the purest form. A life for a life his father had always said. No doubt the King and his guards would be out all day and night until they found the guilty party, to have murdered so many would be punished in the most painful way. Toviah shuddered at the thought of the prisoners under the palace floors, living in their small square of a cell. The constant drip of the water seeping through the cracks in the ceiling would drive them to the deepest depths of madness.

  Toviah hauled himself off his bed and dashed to his cousins room. He would not think of what would happen to him if he was found out.

  “Bastian.” Toviah rapped on the door.

  “You better have food,” Bastian replied.

  “You are out of luck.” Toviah slipped through the door and closed it behind him.

  Bastian was sitting with his duvet rumpled at his feet, his hair dishevelled.

  “Where did you disappear to last night?” Bastian wiggled his eyebrows.

  “I apologise for leaving you behind. How did you get back to the mainland?”

  “Don’t fret, Anabella and I left not long after our last drink with you. We searched for you, but you had disappeared. We borrowed a gondola and rowed ourselves back.”

  “Did you hear there was a mass murder on the island last night.” Toviah sat himself on the armchair next to the bed.

  “How awful. Do we know who the murdered are?”

  “Not yet.”

  “So, tell me what did you get up to last night? Did you find that fun you were s
earching for?” Bastian threw his pillow at Toviah.

  Toviah caught the pillow as it hit him the face. “I managed to get lost in the forest before finding our gondola and leaving that haunted place for good.”

  “I do wonder where your fire haired Countess ended up?” Bastian climbed out of bed and gathered his day clothes from where the servant had set them earlier.

  “Who knows,” Toviah answered in a rush.

  “I’ll take a quick shower and I’ll meet you in the servant kitchen. Their food always tastes better.” Bastian winked before disappearing into his bathroom.

  Toviah made his way to the kitchen in the servants quarters. He and Bastian were always welcomed and treated as if they were normal people and not the future heirs of the Kingdom. Something that outside these palace walls, was not too common.

  “Toviah, what can I get you this morning, my boy?” Maria, the main cook, greeted him with a kiss on each cheek and a warming hug.

  “I can get my food, you don’t have to stop your work Maria.” Toviah kissed the top of the old ladies head. She was more like a grandmother than his own.

  “Nonsense. Sit and I will make you breakfast. Is your troublemaker cousin joining you?” Maria smiled warmly. The two Prince’s spent many days of their childhood years playing in the servants quarters, their boisterous behaviour not bothering anyone.

  “I wouldn’t miss your breakfast for the world,” Bastian announced before he picked Maria up in a tight hug and spun her around.

  “You two will be the death of me. Now put me down so I can feed you,” Maria laughed.

  Bastian set her down but not before giving her another tight hug.

  “So, what are the plans for today?” Bastian nudged Toviah to move over on the bench seat.

  “I am thinking of going to help father and the guards track the murderers.”

  “I’ll be in for that.”

  “Father has forbidden us from stepping foot on that island again.”

  “I know, he lectured me too.” Bastian took a bite of his crusty bread Maria had placed on the table.

  “So, where do we start the search then?” Toviah wondered out loud.

  “Maybe if we tag along with the guards, it might be ok to go back?” Bastian answered.

  . .

  The island of the dead did not seem as sinister in the gloomy midday light escaping through the clouds. The clawed branches from the night before were smooth and soft, swaying in the gentle breeze. Toviah and Bastian fell in step behind the guards, an order from the King himself. The King led the party through the forest, his purpose evident in his quick and precise movements, the guards following.

  “Do you think the bodies are still there?” Bastian whispered.

  “I hope not.” As much as Toviah wanted to find out who committed such a brutal crime, his thoughts were distracted by the Countess. He itched to head toward the dock where they had tied their gondolas the night before. He needed to see if her body was still there.

  “Halt.” The King held his hand in the air.

  Toviah edged past the row of guards to stand beside his father. They had reached the clearing.

  “Get to the back son.” The King placed his hand on Toviah’s shoulder.

  “No father, I am here beside you.”

  “As am I.” Bastian stood on the King’s other side.

  “The first sign of danger, you both stand behind the guards. Do you hear me?”

  The two nodded.

  The only evidence of the night before was the charred remains of the bonfire, sending a thin line of smoke into the crisp air. There were no bodies to be found.

  “Right. Left,” the King shouted and his guards circled the clearing.

  The two Princes followed the King to the centre of the clearing. “Where in the name of all that is holy have the bodies disappeared to?” The King muttered.

  “Were the dead left here?” Toviah asked, curious as to whether the information was a lie.

  “Mattheo.” The Kings voice echoed around the clearing.

  The guard marched across the clearing to a stop in front of the King. “Yes, my King.”

  “You are certain the bodies were here at this very spot.”

  “Yes,” Mattheo answered.

  The faint scent tobacco with a hint of mint caught in the wind and Toviah’s eyes snapped to the guard, scrutinising him.

  “Well then tell me, where have they gone?” The King gestured to the clearing.

  “I am not sure,” Mattheo said, genuinely confused.

  Toviah glared at the guard until their eyes met, allowing the full force of his anger to show on his features. The guard swallowed and took a step back.

  The King looked from Mattheo to Toviah and back. “This is not the time nor place for you two and your squabbles.”

  “My apologies.” Toviah sighed and walked to the edge of the clearing, his heart thudded in his ears.

  Bastian followed.

  “I don’t trust that guard,” Toviah confided.

  “For what reason?”

  “He just seems dishonest.”

  “Do you think he lied about the dead bodies?” Bastian picked up a stone and threw it into the trees.

  “I’m not sure.” Toviah watched his father and the guards scour the field for clues.

  “What do you think happened to the dead?” Bastian asked.

  “I don’t think there were any deaths to begin with. Last night I stumbled across this clearing and the things I saw here were otherworldly.”

  “Otherworldly?” Bastian was intrigued.

  “Dancers with horned headgear, circling a fire. They seemed to shimmer before my eyes.”

  Bastian burst into laughter. “How much did you drink last night?”

  Toviah could not help but laugh in return, maybe he had drank more port than he remembered? Maybe last night was all a terrible nightmare. “Let’s head back, they don’t need us clowns here.” Toviah playfully punched his cousin in the shoulder before heading back to their royal gondola.

  Chapter Seven

  The Blood Moon rose over the buildings and bathed the kingdom in its crimson glow. It brought with it fear and excitement, the people of Venezia were superstitious and knew only evil could be linked to the Blood Moon. Even so, the atmosphere of the race overshadowed the uncertainty of what was to come. Every balcony and platform along the Grand Canal was filled with eager spectators, not a spare inch in sight. It seemed as though the whole of Venezia came to watch the race, the only race of its kind in the kingdom.

  Toviah stood on the palace balcony overlooking the starting point of the race. He had wanted nothing more than to avoid seeing his mother again, but had thought he better comply with his royal duties. This year was the first year he was of an age to fire the firearm and start the race. Every year previous, he stood on this very balcony watching his father, itching for it to be his turn. Now that the time had come, he wanted nothing to do with this race or the kingdom which would soon be his.

  “Toviah,” the Queen said.

  Toviah released a held breath before turning to his mother.

  “Can I have a minute of your time?”

  “Of course.” He forced a smile.

  “I’m glad you are here my son.” The Queen placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “Did they find the one responsible for the apparent mass murder?” Toviah turned to watch the boats lining up at the start of the race.

  “They did not,” the Queen answered.

  “Did they find the bodies?”

  “Not yet,” the Queen sighed. “I want you to court Veronica this evening. Dance with her, spend as much time with her. Let your people know you are keen for this union.”

  “As you wish.” Toviah bowed his head.

  “It’s for the best, my son. One day when this is all yours, you will realise I only had the best of intentions for you.”

  “I know.” Toviah kept his eyes on the canal, afraid if he looked at his mother she wou
ld realize what he had done.

  “I need you to understand that you are to marry the one I choose for you. The one your father and I choose.”

  Toviah stood still.

  “Say something.”

  “What would be the point mother?” His mouth set in a hard line.

  “Don’t be like that my darling son.”

  “Are you serious! You sent a guard to rummage through a merchants house. For what purpose?” His anger boiled. He had never spoken to his mother in this manner before, he was always her little boy who did as he was told.

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I know you were looking for information on who I had been with. I am not your immature, delinquent son anymore.”

  “Toviah.” The Queen reached out toward her son.

  “Next time choose a guard who doesn’t chew tobacco and mint.” Toviah spat. He glared at his mother before the King and Bastian walked on to the balcony.

  The King glared at his wife, a look of warning. “Are you ready Toviah?” The King stood next to his son and handed him the firearm.

  “Yes.”

  “Just as we practiced.” The King nodded.

  The silence that had spread throughout the canal at this point always amazed Toviah as a child. The whole of Venezia waited for the firearm to sound. Once the Kingdom was under his ruling, he would most certainly take part in the famous race, a much more enjoyable experience than standing up here on the royal balcony being a spectator. Toviah raised his hand into the air and watched as the gondoliers set themselves ready for the race. The sound of the firearm cracked into the night and Toviah’s attention was distracted by the Blood Moon shimmering in the sky, just as the dancers had done in the clearing. A shiver snaked its way up his spine and dread sat heavy in his heart. He knew the Seer had been right, he just did not want to believe it.

  . . .

  Another grand ball. Another celebration. Toviah sat in the bar at the back of the grand ball room, away from the main crowd. He looked at his reflection in the ruby red liquid in the glass he held in his hand. He did not see the future King of Venezia, he merely saw a young man who was in love with the wrong sort of girl. A girl who would never be accepted in this circus that was his life. He hadn’t seen Elisabetta for what seemed like an eternity, he hoped his invitation to meet tonight arrived on her doorstep. Until then he would wait in the shadows and watch.