“What the fuck is that?” Ilya asks, leaning in for a whiff. He must realize what it is because his nostrils flare wide. “Which one of you assholes thought serving my sister-in-law blood was funny?”
The one sitting on my right…I miraculously manage not to speak the words out loud, or to glance Konstantin’s way.
Instead, I smooth my tone until its texture is nauseatingly polite. “I only drink blood in Crow form I’m afraid. I don’t mind shifting, but I don’t want to frighten our guests.”
Although Vance stands across the room, the snort he releases is so loud, it travels all the way to my ears.
“Actually, please carry my drinks out to the terrace for me.” I start to get up, but Konstantin claps my thigh with his hand.
“My wife will have food tonight.”
I contemplate hurling the ring at his face, along with a reminder that I’m not and never will be his fucking wife. My bicep tingles—again. I grit my molars with such verve that I’ll be left with stumps by the end of this meal.
I sit back but don’t relax. The four cups of blood are swept away and my cutlery and golden presentation plate returned. And then the appetizers are served all at once, thanks to there being as many attendants as there are guests. I’ve been in Glace for a month, so the outrageous number of staff isn’t as shocking as it was at the beginning, but it’s still very different to what I’m accustomed. After all, in the Sky Kingdom, we don’t have servers; we have serviceable individuals. The same way we don’t have guards or maids. We’re taught young to be entirely self-reliant.
I pick up the little spoon beside the golden egg cup that cradles a shell filled with pink mousse topped with caviar no larger than seed pearls. I scalp the mound of roe and slip it into my mouth.
“Do Crows not wait for the king to commence eating before they do?” Though Sofiya’s tone is innocent, it crackles with reproach.
“No,” I reply, taking a larger spoonful this time and chewing with my mouth open.
“Do you eat more often in Crow form or in human one?” asks the wife of the governor who’d leered at my leg earlier.
Even though the truth is that I’ll eat in human form ninety-eight percent of the time, I go with, “Crow form. There’s nothing like the taste of fresh kills.”
Konstantin’s fingers clutch my thigh a little harder. Ilya coughs. The rest of the table gags.
Emboldened by everyone’s reaction, Sofiya pursues her smear campaign. “I’ve been meaning to ask…how often do you sacrifice virginal males to your Bird Goddess?”
Another snort comes from the direction of the floor-to-ceiling window Vance has claimed as a backrest.
Yuri folds his fingers around Tiana’s hand and reassures her that Crows don’t sacrifice people.
“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Yuri?” Dimitri bellows.
Yuri’s slim body jerks in his chair, his white cheeks coloring the same pink as the velour ribbon fastened around his wife’s neck. “No. I would never.”
Sofiya’s father tilts up his pointy chin and straightens, as though to appear taller. He’d need a pillow to achieve this feat. I’m tempted to offer him one.
“I’ve actually heard this, as well,” the reedy governor with skin so freckled he appears orange pitches in. “From a reliable source, I’ll add.”
Konstantin removes the hand from my thigh in order to drape his arm around the back of my chair for an unobstructed view of the man. “Do share your source, Sergei.”
Sergei’s amber eyes flicker around the room. “Your brother-in-law.”
A smile wings itself onto my face as I picture Aodhan regaling the Faeries with this tall tale. Knowing him, he must’ve had the grandest time. Konstantin opens his mouth, probably to chide the man about his gullibility.
Before he can get a word in, I blurt out, “It’s not a secret my father wants spread, but since Aodhan has divulged it, I canreassure you that sacrifices only take place during full moons, and we mostly pick from volunteers. Though, sometimes, a random Faerie will be given the honor.”
The silence that follows my answer is so thick one could spread it on toast.
Finally, Sergei’s spouse squawks, “Honor?”
“The families of the tributes receivemanygold coins and eternal gratitude from my father,” I explain, coaxing a smile out of Vance, a true feat since the Serpent so rarely smiles. Unlike his sister Agrippina, whose raw comicality is notorious throughout the lands and oceans.
“I myself volunteered, but seeing as I’m not very virginal,” Ilya says, his lips spasming around a grin which he transforms into a long-suffering sigh, “I didn’t make it onto the sacrificial altar.”
I decide, then and there, to put to rest my earlier qualms about Ilya being a puppeteer intent on harming his brother. Evil would color his personality, and my neighbor is anything but hateful. He’s mischievous and wicked, sure, but in the best possible way.
