The Court of Shadows by Victor Dixen EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Victor Dixen
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
“In the name of the king, open immediately!” a thunderous voice orders.
My parents exchange a panicked glance. We’ve just sat down to eat at
the dining table, all five of us. My oldest brother, Valère, freezes. The
second one, Bastien, drops his spoon to the floor. I grab the spoon, since
I’m always picking up after Bastien—even if I’m the youngest.
“Who can that possibly be at this hour, and on a Sunday, no less?”
Maman asks.
She looks at the old clock that shows it’s barely past seven in the
evening. The clock stands next to an almanac affixed to the wall, open to
today’s date: August 31 in the year 299 of the Age of Shadows.
By way of response, a fist hammers the front door, making the
steaming pheasant soup shake in our bowls. My heart trembles even harder.
“In the name of the king!” the nighttime visitor announced. He could just as
easily have said, “In the name of the devil himself!”
I eye the framed engraving of Louis the Immutable that hangs above
our fireplace, same as it does in all the hearths of France. The sovereign’s
long curls lost their brown coloring long ago—or, more likely, the paper
itself faded over the years, since the engraving was printed ages before I
was born. The king’s face, however, hasn’t acquired a single wrinkle. And
for good reason: it’s hidden behind a smooth gold mask that doesn’t betray
age or display any expression. Only two dark eyes emerge, eyes that
callously scrutinize every person in the kingdom. The metal lips, closed and
enigmatic, are far more chilling than if they revealed the sharp canines
hidden beneath.
Shrugging off a shiver, I run to the window to try to see what’s
happening outside. Through the thick pane of glass, the main road of Butte-
aux-Rats is bathed in a golden and blinding light: it’s the end of summer,
when the sun lingers until after eight on the plateaus of the Auvergne, the
mountainous heart of the country . . . and when the vampyres rise late. It’s
the happiest season of the year, the few weeks when it’s warm enough to go
coatless. It’s the time when the villagers nearly forget about the Mortal
Code that for generations has crushed the Magna Vampyria, the broad
coalition comprising the kingdom of France and its vice-kingdoms.
“Get away from the window, Jeanne,” Maman orders me. “Don’t take
unnecessary risks.”
She anxiously tucks a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear.
My own hair, which is cut above my shoulders, has always been gray. Only
my mother finds this anomaly charming.
“The rays won’t burn my skin,” I tell her with a shrug. “I’m not a
bloodsucker.”
“Don’t say such things!” Papa snaps as he pounds the table.
As a good citizen who’s been under the thumb of the regime, he’s
always the first to get upset when we don’t show proper respect to the
vampyres. Reverently, he’s installed some dried chrysanthemums—the
flowers of the undead—under the royal portrait.
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