Emelda
I find Emory in the ballroom trying to rectify the situation. Blood stains the center of the grand mosaic tiles that cover the ballroom in shades of gray and the deepest gold, but even the dark hues aren’t enough to hide the vampire blood.
I wasn’t here for whatever happened, but I heard whispers of it while charging through the castle. Maids that should have been serving flutes of sparkling blood were running around in a tizzy, trying to decide what to do and where to go, all of their original orders banished in an instant.
Emory speaks in quiet tones, offering apologies for having to end the reception early, even though the violence broke out at a quarter to midnight. Most of the guests had left by then, and those that remained were mostly part of King Kane’s court.
Still,
