The other guard nodded at Garadiel and followed at a more sedate pace. Garadiel turned, spotted me watching him, and tensed.
“Can I help you, your royal highness?”
“Actually, you can.”
We studied each other for a long moment. He wasn’t stupid. The flash of realization in his eyes told me he knew.
“Do not attempt to pull me into your games, princess.”
“This isn’t a game. It will be war.”
He hissed out a breath, his wings rustling as if he’d like to flare them. But he had far too much control for that. His pale green eyes narrowed instead.
“My loyalties lie with my king.”
“Good. Samael will be glad to hear that.”
Had his mouth just twitched? No, his expression was stone.
“Do you know how long I’ve been in this role, your royal highness?”
“Please, call me Danica.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Over a century of your time. During that time, he has survived fifty-four assassination attempts by those who do not live in the underworld. Do you want to guess how many citizens of the underworld have attempted to remove your grandfather from his throne?”
“I’m assuming plenty.”
“No. No one would even attempt such a thing, because even the whisper of rebellion is squashed so brutally that people speak of it in hushed voices. I have a sister. She has children. I won’t risk them.”
“Are you hearing yourself? You’re loyal to a man who holds that loyalty by threatening the people you love most.”
He shrugged. “And where has Samael been for all this time? Hiding. Enjoying your world. If it comes to a choice between my king and the one who is powerless in this world? I choose my king. Excuse me, your royal highness, I need to get back to work.”
I blew out a breath as he turned and walked away. That went well.
“What were you speaking to Garadiel about?”
I barely suppressed my jolt. Instead, I pasted on my smile and turned, finding Pischiel watching me.
“Are you following me?”
Surprise flashed across his face, and I cursed myself. Empty-headed Danica wouldn’t have asked that.
“No,” he murmured, his eyes on mine. “My meeting ended early, and I thought I’d get some fresh air before lunch.”
“I had the same thought,” I said brightly, forcing myself to step toward him and link my arm through his. “I was asking Garadiel about those plants near the gate. They look so… vicious.”
His gaze followed mine to the thick vines which crept up the stone wall in the distance. The wall encircled the palace grounds, and almost every inch seemed to be covered in long, snake-line vines. Each vine was studded with thorns the size of my middle finger, and dotted between the thorns were large black flowers that looked similar to lilies.
“Theyarevicious,” Pischiel murmured. “In fact, they’re one of our best modes of defense against any other paranormals who would hope to take the palace.”
I frowned at him. “In what way?”
“While demons could fly over the wall, any paranormals who attempted to enter on foot would be skewered by the garthia plants.”
“Couldn’t most paranormals just kill the plants?”
He smiled. “They’re much, much hardier than you’d imagine. They’ve been fed the blood of every underking in existence.”
