Chapter 1
The Midsummer Ball
The demon watched the carriages and smiled.
He carefully marked every carriage that rolled up the palace drive, noting which of the nobility had arrived and which had yet to come. Ladies stepped out in sweeping ballgowns, draped in jewels and scowling at any servants that allowed their trains to touch the ground. The demon gritted his teeth as he watched them lift their skirts—the cost of each dress alone could have fed a commoner’s family for over a year. Lords stepped out in handsome cream suits with gem studded cufflinks, snapping at their servants and marching ahead of their daughters and wives. Miserable bastards, all of them.
The Rhodean court was made up of the high nobility and lesser nobility. The latter often lived at court during the social season—they were already in the ballroom, waiting with bated breath for the high nobility to arrive. The wealthiest families typically remained at their estates for most of the year, only making appearances for the largest events of the season.
Such as tonight.
The lady he sought was from one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the kingdom, and his spies had told him that she would be arriving any moment.
His demon servant stood beside him, a mid-level demon wearing the form of a short man in a suit, edging closer to where the nobles and guards stood gathered. A guard walked perilously close to where they stood, and his servant licked his lips. His servant leapt at the guard, and he grasped him by the scruff of his tunic. His fingernails lengthened into claws, and he jerked his servant back.
“Not yet,” he snarled. The mid-level demon quailed under his look of pure loathing. “Soon, I will take you hunting,” he soothed, releasing him. “But not yet.”
His servant whined, looking forlornly at the young men and women walking towards the palace, blissfully unaware of the two demons that lurked in the gardens flanking the drive.
The mid-level demon looked at him with big, mournful eyes.
“You are my footman on this journey, nothing more.” His nostrils flared in quiet rage. “If you cannot contain your appetites for even a few hours, I will find myself a servant who can, and I will not need you any more. Do I make myself clear?”
Sullenly, the demon turned to face the drive once more, quieting.
He had waited too long for this. He did not care if the other demons in his household understood the use of long hunts like this one. He was already the head of his household with more gold and power than he could ever want. Sating his thirst for revenge against the atrocities committed against his ancestors was the only hunt that ever piqued his interest anymore.
If someone looked into his eyes of flickering silver fire, they would have seen them flare with the thrill of the hunt, almost glowing in the soft light of the evening. The demon turned his gaze back to the palace drive and watched the rest of the carriages arrive, searching for a head of golden hair.
***
Lady Elizabeth Ashcroft sat in a cream and gold carriage bound for the palace.
It was the beginning of the perfect summer night. She only hoped that her parents weren’t about to be disappointed.
Elizabeth studied her reflection in the carriage window and chewed her lip. Her maid had elaborately braided her hair around her crown, leaving the rest of her hair to cascade over her shoulders. Sapphires and diamonds glinted at her throat and earlobes, bringing out the blue of her eyes, and marking her as a member of the high nobility. She shifted in her seat, the crystals embroidered on her bodice glinting in the light.
Her close friend, Lady Charlotte Harrison, sat beside her, escorted by her mother, the elder Lady Harrison. Her parents sat across from her—her father sitting in the corner of the carriage with his nose buried in a book, and her mother surveying her with pursed lips.
Tonight was the Midsummer Ball, the night her mother expected her to find a husband.
Her mother reached over and fixed an errant lock of her golden hair that had escaped during their journey and tutted. “Are you feeling ready, Lizzy?”
“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth lied.
In truth, she wasn’t.
Lady Charlotte grinned, wearing an equally extravagant gown of pink silk that complimented her honey-brown skin. Charlotte had voluminous curly hair and a face that was made for smiling.
“And Charlotte? You feel fine?” Lady Harrison asked her daughter sharply. “You’ve gotten over that nasty cold you had last week?”
“Yes, Mother, as I told you yesterday, I’m fine,” replied Charlotte, tossing Elizabeth an exasperated expression. “We will each find a match tonight. Don’t fret so.”
Their carriage passed through leagues of rolling hills, the winding road giving fleeting glimpses of the sea that stretched to the west. The sun started to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the fields dotted with wildflowers.
“You girls both look beautiful.” Elizabeth’s mother simpered, her eyes glazing over slightly. “You are the pride of our houses, and I am certain that this is the year we will have at least one engagement to celebrate!”
Lady Harrison smiled as well, her eyes lining with silver as the two matrons glanced between their daughters.
