“Congratulations. I heard someone had.” He paused in front of the fire.
Moira squealed and even Calista smiled.
“We heard about the competition in the servant’s quarters,” Moira said. “And we hoped you’d win. Imagine having the chance to hold the featherdorn pendant, let alone ask it to grant you a wish.”
“What would you wish for?” I asked with a smile.
“A gorgeous wedding dress. Dulvade hasn't asked yet, but…” Moira's eyes sparkled with hope.
Calista scoffed. “You could do better than a chef.”
“HeadChef. And I don't want anyone else.” Moira's chin lifted.
Her lips pressed together, Calista didn’t say anything further.
If Moira loved Dulvade, they deserved to be together.
Farris trotted over to sit in front of Dorion, and he stroked the nyxin’s head and scratched behind his ears.
“Farris actually took us to the key,” Lore said. “He knew where it was.”
“Such a smart nyxin,” Dorion cooed, kissing the top of Farris’s head.
“Would you ladies please go to the kitchen and bring us a meal?” I asked Moira and Calista. “For Lord Vikire as well.”
“Of course, my—” Calista coughed. “My Lady Bliss. We'd be delighted to do so.”
They curtsied and left.
Lore and I hurried to our bedroom to wash up and quickly change, him into pants and a green tunic that brought out the color of his eyes. Fates, even with everything falling apart, he was beautiful. I wanted to drag him back to bed and forget the curse existed. Instead, I dressed quickly in pants and a soft tunic.
Returning to the sitting area, we settled on the sofa. The fire crackled, flames sending heat swirling through the room. In Naveer’s suite, the fire made me sweat and my skin crawl. Here, it felt warm and toasty.
Lore cast a ward, and I felt it lock down around us. His magic brushed against mine. Even with death hanging over us, that connection steadied me.
Our ladies returned with platters of cheese, bread, and fruit. Thankfully no pastries. I wasn’t sure I could eat them again. Calista opened the wine they’d brought and poured a glass for each of us.
“Please stay,” I said. As much as I’d like to send them away, they’d be safer if they heard what happened in Naveer’s suite, though they may forget anything related to the curse.
With a curtsy, they eased to the side of the room, settling in chairs.
“Queen Naveer said a few odd things when we were in her suite, delivering the key,” I said. “She suspects something.” Tension knotted my shoulders. “She was testing us, probing for cracks in our story.”
Lore's expression darkened. “She was hunting for proof. Our disguises might hold, but she's looking for reasons to doubt them.”
“What did she say?” Dorion asked.
“She called us delicious for making it this far. Then asked if we thought ourselves clever.” I replayed the conversation in my mind. “She was testing to see if we’d slip up and reveal something. She tried to push into my mind too. When I blocked her, her whole demeanor shifted. That's when she really started watching us.”
Dorion's face went ashen. “If she suspects you have mental barriers that strong…”
“She’ll know we're not Lord and Lady Rutherford,” Lore finished grimly.
“She talked about death songs and willing sacrifice. About finding beauty in watching things die.” My voice dropped. “Those figurines in her room… I think they're her victims, transformed into trophies.”
Dorion sank into his chair. “You believe she suspects but doesn't know for certain?”
“She was gathering evidence,” Lore said. “Testing us. The moment she has proof we're not who we claim to be, the games end.”
