“And what is that exactly?”
“Who you truly are,” she replies simply.
Heaving an annoyed sigh, I scan the room, considering whether I’ll be able to fight my way past the princess. The thought listlessly fades into oblivion, as I notice the spear leaning against the arm of the chair she was reading in. The gladius I chose is far better suited for close combat than a spear, but I doubt I could make it down the stairs without alerting the king’s infernal ribbons. And if I somehow managed it, where would I go? The city appeared large enough, but in my short time here, I already know I’d be hard pressed to find someone whose fear of the King of Corpses hasn’t sealed their allegiance.
“I have no allegiance to him,” the woman says gently as if I’ve somehow cast my thoughts aloud. “In fact, there is no one in the world I despise more than the King of Carrion.”
She speaks so boldly, adrenaline courses to the surface of my skin and I glance nervously to the stairs to make sure the bastard hasn’t somehow overheard. If he’s murdered a child for stepping on his beach and cut out his own servants’ tongues, there’s no telling what he’ll do to someone openly declaring their hatred of him.
The woman laughs again, the bright sound so discordant with the weight of her eyes. “Ah, but Niko is well aware of my hatred. It serves as his penance and his reminder.”
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the King of Rot has a name—a perfectly normal name—when the man himself appears at the top of the stairs like a specter of night, holding two tumblers of liquor in his hands. My body goes taut, a survival instinct honed by years of detecting danger before it could find me first, but the princess’s gaze doesn’t stray from mine, even as the king—Niko—prowls up behind her.
My breath ratchets tighter in my chest as I wait for his wrath; for those deadly ribbons to spear from him and drain the life from her as they had Jamie. Instead, Niko leans down and lightly kisses the air beside the princess's cheek. “You do know how to flatter me, Adira. No one you despise more? What an honor to have made the top of such a substantial list.”
Adira rolls her eyes up to him, and though her gaze is warm, she doesn’t return his smile. “You know I’ll always save the spot just for you,” she replies, her light words bearing a savage edge.
The king flashes a cheeky smile and hands her one of the glasses. Adira accepts, curling back into her chair, and watching with that pervasive gaze as Niko sinks into the one beside her. He stretches out in his usual arrogant manner, propping his black leather boots on the low table in front of him. He takesa delicate sip of the amber liquid from the remaining glass, sweeping his tongue over his lips in measured satisfaction, before he bothers to acknowledge me standing awkwardly in front of them both.
“Do sit, Willa Darling. No need to make everyone uncomfortable with your inelegant hovering.”
Bastard.Rather than replying—or clawing his eyes out, which is my first instinct—I take two large steps toward him. His eyes flare and he leans back in his chair gleefully, like he’s anticipating my attempt to stab him again and is excited by the prospect. But I only lean close enough to pluck the glass from his fingers.
Tipping my head back, I swallow the liquor in one gulp and stuff the glass back into his hand. “Next time, I’d prefer whiskey to rum.”
Niko remains perfectly still, but his eyes burn as they track my tongue darting out to lick the last bit of alcohol from my lips. And when I bow dramatically into the chair across from him with a sardonic smirk, his ribbons give an unmistakable shudder in the air around him.
Adira’s lip curls in distaste as the king winds his death tightly around his forearms. “Ugh! Star above, Niko! Do at leasttryand keep those thoughts to yourself while I’m near,” she admonishes with a shake of her head.
His black gaze flicks to her in warning, but rather than cowering beneath it, she fits him with her own. “If you wish me to keep your thoughts to myself, you could try not shouting them at me like an overzealous schoolboy.”
Suspicion and dread wash over me. “You…you can read minds?” Under normal circumstances, I’d feel ridiculous for even asking the question. But considering how the last day has unfolded, the insanity of it hardly registers.
Adira’s silky black hair ripples as she nods. “Among other things,” she replies airily.
I round on the king. “Is that why you brought me here? So she could read my mind, and see if I actually mean to help you?”
Niko’s answering smile is terrifying. “Do give mesomecredit, Darling. I don’t need a mind-reader to know you have no intention of helping anyone but yourself. That is your way, is it not? To look out for Willa, and Willa alone?”
The blood drains from my face, and it takes everything in me to stay frozen in my seat. To not leap at him and carve that snide smile from his perfectly shaped face. The stories always said the devil was the most beautiful of the angels, and now, staring at Niko as he strips me down to the worst parts of myself, I finally understand how that could be. The beauty in the temptation of darkness, the gorgeous mask that hides the toiling depths of depravity beneath.
And now those depths have found a weakness. I see it in the way his head tilts, the way his dark gaze sharpens in on me like he can see beneath my skin. “Am I wrong?” he challenges in a low voice that curls at the base of my spine. “Have you not spent the entirety of your life cowering in the shadows?”
I refuse to rise to his taunt, even as it cuts through my chest and winds around my lungs. As it gives rise to visions of Jamie, of Zenni—of my sister, Celie, so many years before.
Shoving the thoughts aside with ruthless vigor, I clamp my lips together and give the king a blank stare. He may have found a point of weakness, but I’ll be damned if I give him even a morsel more. I’ve bled to keep my secrets, sacrificed every bit of softness left in order to survive. Some piece of shit royal with an attitude problem won’t be the reason I give them up now.
My skin still burns with the memory of what happens when I do.
The king watches me for another moment, and then tosses his head back with wild laughter. Adira makes another noise of disgust, even as the husky melody of Niko’s laugh settles low in my stomach. “You can keep quiet all you want, but there is nothing you can keep hidden from Adira.” His black eyes are fathomless, raking over my skin like phantom nails. “Or from me.”
I blanche, furiously trying to clear my mind of anything consequential. “Then I’m leaving,” I snarl, which only causes Niko to laugh again, his eyes glinting maniacally.
“Of course you are,” he purrs. “Star forbid, you sacrifice anything for the sake of anyone else. Even something as unimportant as your privacy.”
His words snap something inside me, and hot rage washes over my vision. “What wouldyouknow about sacrifice?!”
I forget to keep quiet—forget he holds the power of death, forget he’s my only way home. All I remember is the price the world has carved from me; all I see is his mocking amusement, his pure dismissal of the agony of my survival. I charge toward him with reckless abandon, indignant anger coloring everything in shades of crimson.
