“I love him,” I say quietly.
Eve smiles. “I know you do,” she says. “I see the way you look at him. Everyone sees the way he looks at you. You’ll both be the bright and shining example of what Nektos promises.” There’s an underlying hint of bitterness in her tone, well hidden.
“You’re upset.” I lift my head.
She sighs. “Yes, but no.” She lifts a hand to rub at her brow. “Not at you. Not at your king.”
But at Nektos.
At Fate.
“Oh,” she says, straightening her arm. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I finally heard from Druka.”
I sit up, careful not to cause water to slosh over the side of the tub. I don’t think Eve would appreciate an impromptu bath.
She pulls back her dark sleeve, revealing the ebony skin of her arm—marked withnewMalbolge runes. A string of three runes lie near the bottom of her left wrist.
“Vessel of the Veil.” She reads the runes aloud. “No idea what it means. She’s still not answering through the channel.”
Delicacy be damned, I rush the side of the tub, eyes wide as I snatch her wrist. Water spills over the side and Eve recoils with a shout.
“Ves, what in the hells?” she cries, peeling herself away from the tub, yet she remains trapped in my grip.
“What have you done?” I breathe, rubbing a thumb over the inked runes.
She stammers, confused.
“This isn’t Druka,” I hiss, meeting her stare. “This is aHouse Brand, Eve.”
She snatches her arm from my slick grasp, drawing it close to her chest. “What do you mean?”
“AHouse, Eve. AdemonicHouse.”
“How is that even possible?” Eve gives a bewildered laugh. “I haven’t signed any contract. Hells, I haven’t even seen a demon here or in my dreams—other thanyou.”
My mind races.
Tens of thousands of Houses exist in the hells.
I know the most pervasive, the most powerful, and the most profane—atinyfraction of what exists. It is more than possible a House I’ve never met or seen carries the insignia ofthe veil.
“When did it appear?” I ask, my voice lost to the roaring of my heart in my ears.
“When you were in Nyluma,” she answers.
Pulling the stopper from the tub, I climb out, caring little about soaking the tile. I snatch a towel from the shelf and hastily wrap it around me.
“I didn’t think much of it,” Eve says, rising to her feet. “There’s been no change—noadditionalchange—since.”
I stammer, a cornucopia of incoherent sounds.
I don’t know what to do, or say, or think.
I don’t know what this means.
But the sudden appearance of Malbolge runes on a person isn’tgood.
I lift my hand to my brow and pause midway, my eyes widening.
