The hair on Thalia’s neck prickled and she whirled, dagger drawn.
Only to find Cassius not six feet away, his arms crossed and his face livid.
“What the fuck are you doing out here?” Cassius growled out, eyes bright with anger.
Thalia knew better than to glance at the house she’d just been eavesdropping on. Not that it mattered, considering how quiet it’d become.
“I thought I saw something,” she said, casually tucking her dagger away.
“What?” Cassius snapped.
Thalia’s annoyance rose. “Nothing, apparently. Why does it even matter?”
She made to move past him, but his arm snaked out, grabbing her wrist.
“It matters”—Cassius pulled her to him, his voice low—“because you’re a human.”
“So you keep reminding me.” Thalia struggled to shrug out of his grip, but he kept hold of her firmly.
“Just because you’re married to the prince doesn’t mean everyone is pleased with this treaty between the humans.”
“I know,” Thalia snapped, raising her eyes to his. As if her introduction to the courts hadn’t made this obvious enough. She matched the anger whirling in his irises. “I thought I saw a dog with a rope stuck around its neck. I went to try and help it, but it disappeared.”
Cassius studied her, his gaze so intense that Thalia was surprised she didn’t catch flame. She refused to look away, to swallow past her dry tongue. To do anything that would show him she was lying. To allow any sort of sweat to dot her brow that he could scent.
“We don’t have dogs in Irenbis,” Cassius said after a moment.
“Well, I sawsomething,” Thalia insisted.
A muscle in Cassius’s jaw flickered, but he released her, taking a step away. “We should head back. We’ve lingered too long.”
Thalia didn’t falter or glance back as she moved ahead of him. Yet even when they’d gotten on their horses and were making their way back to the castle, she could have sworn more faces peeked out of the closed homes, casting their hateful gaze right on her.
Chapter Twelve
Cassius didn’t question her further. Didn’t call her out on her lie.
Which was fine by her.
As soon as they were back in the castle, Cassius disappeared, leaving her to fend for herself. She managed to find the books Marcus had given her, tucked in a drawer in their shared bedroom.
Thalia scowled as she pulled out the tomes, then shoved them into one of the nightstands by her bed. She’d look into them more later. Perhaps they had some sort of clue about whatever madness the Vampyrs had been discussing. But first she had a letter to write.
Thalia stared at the blank sheet of paper on her writing desk. It wasn’t like correspondence had been forbidden. But she also had no doubt her letters would be read by whatever Vampyr sent them off. Which meant she’d have to be careful of how she worded her message.
Thalia dipped her quill into the ink pot, the point hovering over the page.
She set the pen down.
Thalia couldn’t ever recall a time she’d written to her mother. Ever. Not even when she’d trekked halfway around Agripa on her mission. She’d never traveled far when she was a child, certainly never long enough to warrant correspondence. Thalia didn’t even know how to start a letter to the queen. Did she address itMother? Orshould it be more formal? Would the Vampyrs suspect anything if she didn’t know how to write a letter to her own blood and kin?
Your Majesty,
I am pleased to say that I’ve integrated myself quite nicely with themonstersVampyrs here in House Lorenzia. I have yet to be introduced to my new husband, as he’s been called away to the north to attend to some damage caused by storms. The courts themselves areterrifyingforeboding and no one will tell me shit about anything. But they are for sure hiding something—
Thalia made a face, ripping up the paper before she tossed it aside and grabbing a fresh sheet.
She dipped the quill again, the ink dripping onto the wood of her desk.
