I barely saw Devora all day. She was overseeing floral arrangements with Rose, and then delivering gowns and suits to the family. Leo and I were in the kitchen, making sure the food and cakes were on time.
The day passed in a whirlwind of lace, flower petals, and icing, but it was all worth it to see the look on Rissa and Thorne’s face when we celebrated them at the welcome feast. I was worried she wouldn’t be able to put last night’s conversation behind her and simply enjoy herself—Rissa had always viewed taking care of her own needs as selfish—but the smile on her face said it all.
She, Thorne, and Marigold were the perfect family. Happy and adored and loved without condition.
I had a sense of happiness and love with my Order, but this…this kind of love was something I had fought against ever since I learned it could be weaponized. And yet, I felt it trying to slip its way through in a swath of shadows and red waves.
The worst part was that I didn’t know how to stop it. I didn’t know if Icouldstop it anymore. I knew deep down that I wasn’t like my half-brother, however much my own fears tried to twist my thoughts. But part of me wondered if I wasn’t my own brand of monster. Knowing the way I felt about someone would only hurt them in the end, and being selfish enough to take what I wanted anyway.
Being with Devora didn’t make me forget about the consequences—she made me unafraid to face them. She made me feel brave and bold, passionate and slightly irresponsible. She made me feelfree. Something I hadn’t felt since I was taken from my home and forced in a cell.
But in those moments when she was gone, the doubts rose again.
If my happiness was her death sentence, how could I ever let myself keep her?
The welcome feast bled into night, and as the guests made their way back to the guest wing or to their own homes in the capital,our little group found ourselves up in Rissa’s personal study with the leftover wine and several plates of cake.
Chaz, the burly guard who was the biggest goof of us all, was laughing with Leo in the corner by Rissa’s desk. Rose sat on a nearby settee next to Lark, and every once in a while, Rose would leisurely reach behind and rest a hand on Leo’s knee. Thorne was rubbing Rissa’s feet in front of the fireplace while she ate small pieces of cake.
The crackling fire sent a pleasant, sleepy haze over the room. When Devora settled next to me on the couch with another plate of sweets, I had to physically restrain myself from pulling her onto my lap. Fates, she looked good. She had on a dark purple pantsuit with sheer sleeves that accentuated her curves, and a cape attached at the waist that gave the illusion of a dress. My eyes kept straying to her, even when others tried to talk to me.
“Who gave these two adjoining rooms, anyway?” Rose said from across the office, tipping her chin toward us. “You know, it would be a shame if someone just so happened to spell your doors shut tonight.”
I gave her a lazy grin. “Your little spells can’t hold me for long, viper. I’m immune to all your littletricks.”
Her green eyes sparkled. “That’s what they always say.”
“What about Grimlock?” Rissa called from her chair, where Thorne still massaged her feet and calves. “Is the mighty dragon Shifter immune tothat?”
“What’s Grimlock?” Devora asked.
“A specialty drink of the capital,” Rose said. “I discovered it for the first time last year. It makes you unable to tell lies.”
Devora raised an eyebrow. “And people drink this for fun?”
“It’s mostly used for interrogations,” I said with a shrug.
Lark added, “ButdearRissa likes to make it into a game.”
“Not this again,” Leo grumbled.
“What? Itisfun,” Rissa said innocently when her brother shot her a look. To Devora, she said, “Someone gives you a dare, and you either do it, or take a drink of Grimlock while they ask you whatever theywant. I call it Grimlock or Glory. We used to play it at our favorite tavern when we were younger and one of us had snuck in a bottle of it.”
I hummed. “Perhaps the night before your wedding isn’t the best time to play, Rissa.”
She gave me a sweet smile. “I’m the bride.” She cocked her head. “Andthe empress, for that matter.”
“I mean, I’m down,” Chaz boomed from his seat by the desk. He propped his boots on top of Rissa’s desk, and when she arched an eyebrow at him, he hastily removed them.
“Fine. Chaz, you go first,” Rissa said. “Grimlock or Glory?”
He puffed out his large chest. “Glory. Always.”
Rissa held out her empty plate, her lips turning up into a fox-like grin. “Stride to the kitchens and get me more cake.” Chaz scoffed and crossed the room to grab her plate, but she snatched it back and added, “Andbring back the cook’s undergarments.”
“Done anddone. I’ve been trying to get Lyra to go out with me for ages anyway,” Chaz said, swiping the plate from her with a salute. “Come on, Rissa. At least give me a challenge.” Then he vanished into thin air.
“Alright, Leo, while we’re waiting for him, it’s your turn,” Rissa said in a sing-song voice. “Grimlock or Glory?”
