I sank into my power, and the answer rose. Which was interesting in itself because seeing the future was not possible for any magus—to my knowledge—so the answer reallywasrising from Gratia. Which meant the answer was already here inside her. In her soul or heart or mind.Thatseemed to suggest mates were preordained. Programmed in. All demons held the destiny of their eventual mate within them from birth.
I studied the answer to her question and grimaced. “The answer is a curse and a blessing. You may not wish to know.”
If I didn’t tell her, then Gratia may go a lifetime without meeting him. But then, she wouldn’t now because I had told her of his existence. Also that they would meet soon. My interference was clearly preordained too.
Carmine’s sister laughed without humor. “How could my mate be a curse and a blessing?”
Had Gratia met her brother? He was Exhibit A of the Jekyll and Hyde display. “I can only feel that it is. I cannot see whether this mating will bring you more happiness than remaining alone. Certainly there is more turmoil and heartache at the start of your mating than happiness.”
Her chest rose and fell, and Gratia had left her princess mask behind for possibly the first time since I’d met her.
“Why?” she breathed.
“You bargained for one question. Make your choice.”
Gratia searched my expression, but she wouldn’t find anything there.
She said, “I am meant to know him and mate with him. I feel this without knowing how or why. I must meet him. Where is he?”
So be it.“He is a blacksmith in the middle realm. Not far from the west passageway.”
She dropped my hands. “He’s a blacksmith? By choice?”
Gratia wished to know if a crimson or red had willingly chosen to become a blacksmith. As if that would ever be a thing. “He became a blacksmith because he had to. Because his father was a blacksmith, and his grandfather too.”
Because he was a purple, anddefinitelynot a suitable match for a crimson princess.
I was about to become mother-in-law’s favorite.
19
Stalls of goods and produce were arranged in rows in the dirt garden. Demons from the realm below had hauled their produce and wares up the peak to feed and entertain the crimsons for the evening.
I shifted on my throne, stomach rumbling. I hadn’t dared eat during my visit with Adeuto. Their supplies had to last as long as possible. If I portaled back late again, then Carmine would definitely murder my designers.
At my warning, Grandfather had double-checked the emergency packs. We had a second hideaway point, and even a third, but the nature of demon magic made it hard to set up any warning system. Even my magus magic could be sensed.
Grandfather would have to rely on his blue senses against those of a crimson. If she found them, then at best, he would manage to send a smoke signal.
The thought that they could be discovered at any moment made me want to be sick.
“Your thoughts are far away tonight,” murmured Carmine. “And you are hungry.”
He stood and extended his forearm. The fight to remain seated would steal more mental space than I could currently donate.
I descended from the throne with him, then walked around the stalls. He passed me a sweet bread, which I accepted on autopilot, but the small nibbles I took felt like rocks in my stomach.
Which was a point. My gut wasn’t warning me. There was nothing more important to me than Adeuto, so I trusted that my gutwouldwarn me when needed. Carmine’s mother wasn’t going to find my son today.
I needed to keep up the act and pull myself out of fear.
Carmine glanced at me for the tenth time, then said, “My war council was impressed with you.”
“Were they?” I mumbled. “I couldn’t tell.”
“They don’t give away much. That’s why they are on my council.”
I nodded and tried to give some focus to the surrounding stalls. The demons behind the stalls both wanted and dreaded the king’s attention on them. I drifted my focus over their wares. Crimsons were crowded around a games stall. Aside from games involving bloodshed, demons liked games of cunning. They had a game similar to chess, calledsehd. There was a game namednekosthat used wooden tokens—it was a combination of cunning and bloodshed, as the winner of each round got to stab a pin through their opponent’s hand. That was my idea of fun.
