“Enough. Let’s focus on tomorrow.” I reached for my wine again, taking a long swallow. Really, I needed something stronger.
Val’s expression sobered. “We’ll need to be careful. There’s no telling what we might find.”
I started making mental notes of what we’d need. “We’ll need weapons.”
“I’m a weapon.” Amari flexed his fingers. “And so is he.” He nodded toward Nico, though the acknowledgment seemed to pain him.
“Even weapons need backup plans.” I met Val’s eyes across the table. “The armory might still be stocked. We can check it in the morning.”
Val held my gaze a beat too long, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. His lips parted slightly before he finally nodded. “Good idea.” Why did the velvety tone of his words travel straight through my chest and settle somewhere lower?
I pretended not to notice, just as I pretended not to notice how his fingers traced the stem of his wineglass.
A servant appeared at my elbow, refilling my wine. I thanked her, noticing how her eyes widened in surprise at my words. Lilith wouldn’t have bothered with such courtesies, I imagined.
What would happen if I failed? If I couldn’t find Winston?
I hadn’t asked for any of this. Not the royal blood in my veins, not the responsibility thrust upon me, and certainly not the complicated tangle of feelings for two of the men at the table.
Nico leaned closer, his lips nearly brushing my ear. “You look pale. Are you okay?”
I forced a smile. “I’m tired.”
His brow furrowed, and I knew he didn’t believe me. He’d seen me at my worst over the years, held me through nightmares, and watched me break down over and over. He knew what my face looked like when I was drowning, and he never looked away.
I stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed. We’ll meet at the main gate in the morning.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and left the dining room, feeling their eyes on me as I retreated.
Once back in my room, I leaned against the closed door and exhaled heavily. What was I doing? Pretending I had any right to lead when I’d spent centuries hiding?
I’d perfected the art of invisibility, of curling myself small enough that Inferna’s predators might pass me by. Now I was expected to stand at the center, to command men like Val and Amari, who had lived and breathed power struggles.
I slid down to the floor, my back still pressed against the door as if the responsibility and weight of expectations might force their way in and consume me. What was the point? I had no magic, and thinking that I could do this was insane.
My desk caught my eye, and I jumped to my feet, scanning the room. I made my way toward the table where fresh blocks of soap sat in neat rows, gleaming white against the dark wood. My fingers hovered over a block of soap, not quite touching it, and a chill skittered up my spine.
A soft knock made me nearly jump out of my skin, and Nico pushed the door open. His eyes immediately narrowed, taking in my defensive posture. “Something wrong?”
I held up a soap. “A gift from you?”
He walked into the room, closing the door behind him. “No.”
“Maybe Val then.” I put the bar down and turned to face my friend.
“You ran off.” He had stopped halfway to me, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“I needed a minute.” I walked to the window, staring out at the darkness. “It’s a lot.”
“It is.” He stayed where he was, the space between us feeling both physical and metaphorical. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Which part? My brother? The missing council member? That I’m supposed to take my brother’s place when I haven’t been a part of this for centuries?” I turned toward him. “Or what happened last night?”
His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “Sammy...”
“I know.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “It was a mistake. You made that clear this morning.”
The space stretched and contracted with each heartbeat before he sighed, the sound weary and weighted with unspoken complications. “I didn’t say anything this morning.”
