A quiet laugh left Ana. “Royals are all the same,” she said, nearly rolling her eyes. “Desperate to have the biggest cock in the room.”
“Cheers to that,” he agreed, holding up his drink.
“Ms. Smith?”
A girl who looked to be fresh out of high school came walking around the corner with a clipboard in her hand, her coarse curls pulled back from her face into a high ponytail, and she gave Ana a small smile.
Ana rose from her seat. “Yes?”
“The Hand will see you now.”
Yes, Ana thought to herself.
She tried to hide her smile as she followed the girl down a wide, bright white hall. Modern art decorated the walls, and Ana actually found herself pausing to look for the artist names on a couple of them. The girl escorting her stopped, glancing back over her shoulder, but Ana ignored her and snapped a photo on her phone of the pieces. She sent one to Sam, an abstract line art with gold accents of a woman sitting sideways, her backside on display.
The girl cleared her throat, and Ana quickly put her phone on silent before hurrying after her.
At the end of the hall, the space darkened. A black wall lined with accents of gold light fixtures, and a few plants, met them. Long benches sat against it, plush pillows on the tops. The grand black door in the middle looked like a black hole ready to swallow her, and Ana found herself suddenly intimidated by the magnificence of the color so stark to the white and glass hallway.
Three knocks, and the girl stuck her head inside the door to announce Ana. Ana straightened her jacket and pushed her shoulders back, preparing for whomever it was on the other side. But the girl just turned and gave her a smile, and then she pushed the door open wide.
A beautiful blonde woman sat behind the desk, dressed in a pantsuit that made Ana jealous of the woman’s smaller breasts. The top came down low, showcasing the long gold chain the woman had draped on her pale alabaster skin. Her hair pillowed in cascading curls over one shoulder, and she lifted her chin in Ana’s direction as her assistant closed the door. Ana had to force herself not to stare, not to bow her head. This woman was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. And when she spoke…
Ana felt her will bending.
Recognition showed in the woman’s eyes, and she twisted in her chair, giving Ana her full attention as she steepled her fingers beneath her slender chin.
“You must be Jay’s new curator,” the woman said, her voice sultry and caressing, as if she could fuck Ana’s mind without moving out of her chair.
It was that same aura she felt around Sam. Power. Assuredness. Absolution. That this woman was certainly one of Death’s demons was not in question. The fact that she was also so close to the king made her all the more possessive and dangerous.
Ana could have bathed in the stench of it.
She collected herself and nodded to answer the Hand’s question. “Ana Smith,” she introduced herself, stepping forward.
The woman seemed to find her name amusing. “Smith… The only people using the name ‘Smith’ around here are running from something,” she said, brown eyes trickling over her. “But I dolovea good mystery. Tell me your official story, Ms. Smith.”
Ana didn’t reply directly. She’d dealt with enough people in power to know when they were trying to work her first.
“It is my understanding you have some pull with the art in Castle Corvus,” Ana chose to say.
“Business first,” the blonde toyed. “All right. I can appreciate someone who goes directly to the point.”
“Do you have access to the art or not?” Ana asked.
The corner of the blonde’s mouth quirked. “Being Hand of the King has its perks,” she replied. “What’s your interest?”
“Something tells me a few of these paintings haven’t seen the light or a good dusting in centuries, what with the place not being open to the public and no servants or otherwise working there,” Ana said. “I’d like to offer to auction some of the paintings off. Of course, we’d give the money to your King’s favorite charity. It might create some good PR for him in light of everything happening in Firemoor right now. I’ve heard rumors of people questioning whether he will do something or remain hidden.”
The woman’s lips tightened. “If there’s something you’d like to say about how your king handles the situation, say it.”
But Ana shook her head. “I’ve said nothing. Only that perhaps your king should consider options for the public face.”
“I wasn’t aware curators had aknackfor relations,” she said, a warning in her voice.
Ana didn’t say anything. She just stared, and the blonde huffed.
“Do you drink, Ms. Smith?” she asked as she stood and began grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair.
