The Sherriff’s face materialized before me. Not the perfect image from the newspaper clipping, but one where he was sprawled on a filthy bedsheet. Deep gouges dripped blood from his back, pooling with serum and slick mucosa from the trail of intestines cascading onto the floor.
I jerked my hand away just as Clement appeared in front of me, grasping my arm and tugging me toward the table. “You can sit next to me.”
“But—” I looked back. The prince had taken Lilyanna’s arm and was leading her to a chair, a flicker of amusement on his face.
“Clement,” the prince called. “Lilyanna’s dear sister can sit on my other side. That would make for quite the fun night, don’t you think?”
Yes, a second chance. I forced my breathing to deepen. In response, the magic slunk deeper, out of reach. Why did this keep happening around him?
The Sheriff’s face swam into view again. My body flinched, suddenly cold as if doused in freezing water. This had never happened before. Then again, I’d never stuck around to find out what happened to those I’d marked. I should have known. Deep down I probably always did. The Collectors side of the bargain was far worse than mine.
The magic tingled, reminding me it was still with me, that I could do this, but I’d have to focus. It wanted to attach to determination and power, not uncertainty. This was no time to develop a conscience. If I could tag the prince at dinner, I would. Otherwise, I’d go and grovel for forgiveness from Siobhan and use my trump card to buy myself a few weeks until I was dragged under again.
Clement narrowed his dark eyes at me when I remained mute. I shrugged, unable to remember if I’d been asked a question.
“If those two are sisters,” he said, “then we must be brothers, my dear prince. And so, I will sit on your left.”
The prince chuckled. “And it begins! These really are my favorite gatherings.”
Clement dragged me toward the head of the table, firmly planting himself between me and the prince. I slipped into the high-backed chair, forcing my mind to empty and the magic to bide its time.
I sucked in a deep inhale of the juicy aromas floating by. “You’ve had quite a few of these gatherings, or so I’ve heard.” I directed my comment at the prince, plucking a large lamb chop from the transparent diamond platter in front of me.
The prince chuckled. “Yes, that is true. And it seems like you have not been invited to many, judging by your lack of table manners.”
Clement elbowed me, and I dropped the bowl of buttered carrots I was tipping onto my plate alongside the lamb.
“I am joking! Eat!”
I pulled a face at Clement and resumed heaping my plate full. Matron was seated opposite me and Bryn beside her. My other side remained empty, giving me plenty of room to drag dishes across the table to my area.
I dipped my lamb in the mint jelly, barely able to stifle a moan as it melted in my mouth. The meat was deliciously tender and cooked perfectly. When was the last time I’d eaten like this? Siobhan’s fluttering eyelashes came to mind, reminding me that it had been when she’d last asked me to join her. She’d taken me on a private tour of the southern castles, casually slipping all the deals I could be making into the conversation, the lives I could control, the freedom I’d have. I just had to give up every shred of dignity and incinerate every last one of my morals. Her apprentice. I snorted. She wanted a lot more of me than that.
The prince raised his goblet. “A toast.” I lifted mine while the others did the same. “I do so enjoy these annual gatherings. They are much more delightful than the ones my mothers used to make me sit through. And seeing as we have two new faces joining our unusual family,” he gestured to Lilyanna then to me, “I thought this would be the best way to celebrate.” He drank and we followed suit. “Let’s begin. Ask me anything. I would love for you two to be comfortable in your new home.”
I shoveled a forkful of honeyed parsnips into my mouth. When I came up for air, I asked the prince, “So, why do your fiancées keep dying?”
Clement choked on his wine. Lilyanna bit back a grimace, her fingers fluttering to the choker wrapped around her neck.
Clement gripped my knee under the table and lowered his face to mine. “He’s still the Goddessdamn prince, Tam. Behave.”
The prince’s smile was taut. He pushed food around his plate, head tilted. Lilyanna started chatting about trade routes between their cities, but his focus remained lasered on me and Clement.
“It’s a valid question,” I hissed back. “And you won’t let me close enough to find out.”
“For good reason.”
I rolled my eyes, and he groaned.
The prince’s fork chinked against the plate, and I looked up. “Do you need someone to cut up your food for you, my dear prince? There’s plenty of help around the table.”
Clement kicked me.
The prince put down his fork and grabbed the large carving knife. He held my stare, the room suddenly silent around us, before plunging the knife into his lamb, holding it like a spiked head. He tore off a large chunk with his teeth.
I snorted and Lilyanna giggled. Even Clement managed to smile.
Matron opposite me angled her goblet of wine at Clement. “I agree with the young lad.”
