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hear, Mr …?” Yara asked sharply.
    “Remi, ma’am,” he replied with a hint of French in his accent.
    “And what is your post, Remi?” Sam asked, sounding as inquisitorial as Yara felt.
    Yara narrowed her eyes at him, as if saying “don’t you dare lie to us,” and from the corner of her eyes she saw Sam take a menacing step closer. The guy’s Adam’s apple worked up and down. A lock fell away from his perfectly done rockabilly hair-do. Yara’s nose got the whiff of sulphur, the unmistakable smell of fear.
    “I’m the … I’m …” he shuddered his way to an answer. 
    “Remi!” Arthur’s sharp tone echoed in the narrow corridor. “Why are you disturbing the queen?”
    “I wasn’t!” Remi replied, finally finding his voice.
    “Apologize at once,” Tardieh’s house manager ordered.
    Remi looked exasperated, like an innocent school kid who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
    “There’s no need, Arthur,” Zoricah intervened, “Remi didn’t do anything wrong. We were just coming out of a very self-absorbing girl talk and got startled, that’s all.”
    Arthur glared at the younger vampire again, then relaxed – as much as a strict, centuries-old British vampire would. “I apologize for any inconvenience, my queen.”
    “Don’t worry, Arthur, there was no inconvenience,” Zoricah reiterated.
    She was such a good person that Yara was certain she would ensure this Remi guy wouldn’t get scolded again.
    Suddenly, Yara’s nose caught another scent. Her eyes snapped to Zoricah. Her friend, the new queen of vampires, looked quintessentially green. Crap – she was going to puke in front of Arthur and Remi.
    “Well, it’s great that all misunderstanding was clarified,” Yara jumped in, overly slurring the words out. “But what I still can’t understand is why can’t Dyam be nice to me!” She leaned forward pretending to lean on Zoricah but her hands hooked around her friend’s arms, keeping her up.
    Sam frowned. “Yara, what in Hiad are you…”. She paused mid-sentence after Yara flashed her a “get on with the program” look. “Right, OK … Z, I think Yara had a bit too many Sea Breezes for one night. We should take her back to our bedroom.”
    “No!” Yara shouted. “I’m gonna thalk to Dyam, I’m gonna asth-k him why?” She threw her arms up in a perfect Spanish soap opera moment. “WHY doesn’t he like me?”
    “See you later, Arthur,” Zoricah said weakly. Yara could feel her body temperature dropping by the second.
    “I’ll help you take Lady Yara to her quarters.”
    “No!” all three of them shouted.
    “That’s alright, Arthur, we can manage from here,” Sam said, as Yara pulled Z toward the long stairway. “Please tell King Tardieh we may be gone for a while.”
    They managed to make it to the top without calling too much attention. The moment they cornered into the bedroom wing, Zoricah collapsed. It took every ounce of Yara’s powers to hold her up before she fell face-first on the floor.
    “Oh dear Gods!” Sam breathed, her hands covering her mouth.
    “Stop moaning and help me hold her up!” Yara snarled.
    She complied. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to seeing Z so weak.”
    Together they managed to cross the long corridor, descend another set of stairs, then get into the royal quarters and lay Zoricah safely on the bed.
    “Bring me a glass of cold water and a hand towel, please,” Yara asked Sam, as she accommodated Z in the middle of the mattress.
    Sam came back in record time with what she had been asked to get.
    “I’m OK, feeling better …” Z moaned.
    “No, you’re not,” Yara replied. “And if you don’t close your eyes and lay down like a good girl, I’ll kick your newlywed ass to Hiad.”
    Z complied without a fight.
    “Sam, please pat her forehead and neck with the cold water while I try to balance her inmã.”
    “Can you do that?” Sam asked, already soaking the small towel.
    “It’s been a long time …