Page 22 of Rite of Blood and Secrets

I open my mouth but can't find the words to respond to him.

"My Golden Moon was five years ago," he says, looking up at the sky and examining the moon. "I still have nightmares. I'm not trying to insult you."

"You're not doing a very good job of that," I retort, instantly regretting it.

"Ah, so you do have thoughts."

"Of course I have thoughts," I respond. "But it might surprise you to know that I don't just share them with drunk strangers."

"You would if you were drunk too."

"Which is precisely why I shouldn't be," I mutter.

"Maybe you're onto something there," he muses, swaying from side to side and looking as if he's going to fall over.

"Here, let me help you," I say softly, reaching out for his arm and taking him over to what looks like it used to be a wall. It's certainly sturdier than where he was perched before.

I'm half surprised he actually lets me do it, and he sits down, stretching his legs out. "Did you know any of them?"

"Any of who?" I ask, finally managing to take the jug away from him. I have no idea who the man is, but I definitely know he's had too much.

"The people." He turns to me, pain written all over his face. He's younger than I thought, which makes sense if he said his Golden Moon was five years ago. His light blond hair falls in front of his eyes, but it's the intelligence and pain in them despite all of the wine that breaks down my walls and want to confide in him.

"I recognised some faces." Though thankfully, I couldn't put names to them. I think that would only have made things worse. "But my brother is with me, and he..." I trail off, realising that I really shouldn't say it. Not to someone I don't know, even if I doubt he'll remember much of this conversation in the morning.

"Showed you a side of him that you didn't realise existed," the man responds. "I'm lucky not to have experienced that with my brother, but I can imagine how it might feel."

"I don't know how it feels. He's my brother, and I love him."

"Of course you do."

"And tonight has been an interesting experience."

He gives a sharp laugh. "That's one way of putting it. Feasts are an experience, though I'm not sure interesting is the word I'd use."

"How often do they even happen?" I ask. I'd rather be prepared the next time I'm going to be faced with one.

"You're full of questions."

"I found out vampires were real a couple of hours ago. Forgive me if I might have a few questions about the whole thing."

"I'm sorry," he says. "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think there's a right one tonight."

"Fair enough. The official feasts are about once a year. With unofficial ones happening for the logical occasions, weddings, betrothals, funerals, the like."

"So try to avoid getting married if possible," I muse.

He gives a harsh laugh. "You'll be betrothed by the end of the year."

"Betrothed?" I echo.

"The thing that comes before marriage."

"I know what it is. I just didn't really think about that."

"That's the way it is. If you're the daughter of a noble, your job is to marry and form an alliance for your House. That's how it goes. Unless you sneak off in the middle of the night with a lover. But I don't recommend it."