She heard the castle doors open and shut. Peering out the window, she watched two cloaked figures make their way into the creeping fog.
She found Asmodeus lounging in the sitting room. He was sprawled on a sofa with his enormous wings spread out behind him, taking up nearly the whole sofa.
Elizabeth tried to embody Charlotte, who would have feared no man, no matter how imposing, and flounced down on the opposite couch.
“Hello, Asmodeus.”
“Hello, little dove,” Asmodeus said, sounding bored. His black, demonic eyes were riveted on her, and she felt acutely aware of the small horns on his forehead and frightening wings. She took a deep breath and relaxed her posture, trying to appear unafraid.
“Why are you not with the other gentlemen, swapping stories about hunting deer and bedding women?” she said, keeping her voice cool and raising a brow.
“You know, I don’t think the males in this castle give you entirely enough credit.” He chuckled. “They are not out discussing things of that nature. That is for Caspian and me to discuss, in detail and at length, everyothernight of the year.”
She smiled her best soft and pretty smile, crinkling her eyes in a practiced, friendly expression, as if nothing interested her more than what Asmodeus had to say. She’d rehearsed this smile for hours until she could do it on command for court functions.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, sounding more relaxed and much more friendly. His guard was down. Perfect.
Asmodeus was drinking what appeared to be a goblet of blood with some sort of orange beaks floating in it.
“What are those?" she asked, unable to help herself.
“Underworld’s finest. Firebird beaks. Adds a nice little kick to my cocktail here.”
“Right. Cocktail.” She gave him a skeptical look.
“Lamb’s blood. Easy to come by. Tasty.” He saluted her with his beverage.
She put a hand to her chest.
“Lamb?” she asked weakly.
He laughed at the expression on her face. “Ha! Don’t tell me no one told you.”
She shook her head.
“Oh, that’s good.” He chortled. “No, it’s not your family and friends in these goblets. It would be nice, but we’d be hard-pressed to remain undetected if we did that all the time.”
She was glad someone found it funny. She had been terrified about the contents of those goblets since she had arrived.
“So, what can I do for you? Unless you’d like to be my dessert after the lamb?” He looked her up and down suggestively as he swirled his goblet. She had the distinct impression he was enjoying himself as a wide grin split his face.
She took a deep breath. “Have you ever been in the ballroom here?” He surveyed her with a raised brow. “No. No one goes in there.”
“And why not?”
“Well, it’s a bit of a story,” Asmodeus said, wiggling in his seat, clearly pleased to have her undivided attention. “A long time ago, Caspian was interested in a mortal girl.” He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Obsessed with her, actually.”
“Oh?”
Asmodeus chuckled. “I know, I wouldn’t believe it if someone told me either.”
She hesitated. “What happened?”
Asmodeus gave an easy smile and launched into the tale. “He sought a girl from his village. Caspian was convinced since he had killed his enemies, he would now get the nice house and beautiful wife owed to him and would spend eternity in bliss.”
She frowned. A cozy life with a wife and a home did not fit with what she knew of Caspian at all.
“Yes, we thought he was a bit of a fool too,” Asmodeus said, nodding. “Anyway. Apparently, when they were young, the beauty from his village told him she wanted to be with a wealthy man one day, who had an enormous manor complete with a hundred servants, and over fifty rooms, and expensive dresses, and … you guessed it. A ballroom fit for hosting kings and queens.”
