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Kingdom of the Cursed

Page 18

by Kerri Maniscalco


  I shoved those memories away and focused on the here and now. I recalled what Wrath had said about victors and victims. Tonight I would be victorious. I was here to get information.

  And I would do everything in my power to succeed. If I had to don the attire of my enemy, so be it. It was an extremely small price to pay. I’d wear his silly dress and bat my lashes, all while counting down the moments until I got what I was truly after.

  “Let’s see what dress you’ve chosen, Prince of Jealousy.”

  I opened the box and rolled my eyes. The gown was gorgeous, a hunter green velvet that was dark enough to almost be mistaken for black, with long fitted sleeves, a snug bodice that plunged open almost to my navel, and flowing skirts.

  A single emerald the size of a robin’s egg was fastened onto a sparkling silver chain. The outrageously opulent necklace was likely a pretty weapon Envy wished for me to use against his brother. I could picture Wrath’s expression shuttering when he spied the gift that belonged to House Envy glittering on my chest.

  Apparently, pissing contests were not simply an idiotic mortal pastime.

  I thought about staying in my current dress but figured Envy might be more amenable to sharing information if he wasn’t scowling at the offensive House Wrath attire. And I also did not wish to sink to their level of ridiculous royal posturing.

  After I slipped on the gown and rolled up the sleeves to show off my forearms, I dabbed some rouge across my cheekbones and lips. I picked up the necklace. The gemstone was flawless; I would no doubt become the envy of anyone who saw it.

  I managed to clasp it around my neck when a servant entered my chamber.

  “If you’re ready, I’ll show you to dinner, Lady Emilia.”

  I’d been hoping for a few moments alone to practice summoning my magic just in case things went very wrong, but even a few hours wouldn’t feel like enough time to overcome years of training I’d missed. I smiled at the servant. “Please, lead the way.”

  As I moved toward the door, I caught my reflection in an oversized mirror. I looked ready to do battle in the most elegant, vicious way. I truly was turning into a princess of Hell.

  Goddess help the demons.

  We traveled down the opposite end of the corridor where my suite was located. Unsurprisingly, Envy had situated me in the royal wing. Better to keep one’s enemies close, and one’s future sister-in-law closer. I wondered if that was one of the reasons for Wrath’s foul mood. The brothers clearly enjoyed digging at each other as often as possible. Though they would need to find something else to fight over. Magical bond or not, I belonged only to myself.

  A stoic guard inclined his head, then stepped back and opened the door. An expansive room spread out before me, mostly dressed in darkness. It was meant to unnerve.

  But there was little for me to fear in the shadows. Soon they would do my bidding.

  I stepped inside and paused to fully evaluate the room as the door snicked shut behind me. It was not quite a study, nor was it a formal dining room. If we were in the mortal world, it would be similar to a gentleman’s club often described in my favorite romance novels.

  A circular table with two chairs was placed near a wall of windows, offering a bit of soft light to filter in. Tapers in an impressive silver candelabra were lit on the table, and a few sconces in the farthest corners also added hints of warm light.

  Most of the chamber was cast in shadows, including the door where I stood. I glanced up. The tray ceiling was adorned with a fresco: winged beings on clouds, some bright, others stormy.

  My gaze traveled around the room and stopped on the shadowy figure of the prince. Envy lounged in an oversized velvet chair near a darkened corner, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. One long leg was kicked up, his ankle resting on a knee. He couldn’t look more comfortable or relaxed if he tried. Though his grip indicated he was not as at ease as he’d like me to believe.

  He took a long sip of his drink, his gaze hidden from view, but I felt it travel over me all the same. “You certainly know how to stir up trouble, pet.”

  I remained in the shadows. “I may have claws, your highness, but I assure you I am no one’s pet. Least of all yours.”

  Envy leaned forward into a pool of candlelight and somehow, even while seated, managed to look down his regal nose at me. His beautifully harsh features were set into an unimpressed frown. “Thank the devils for that. I don’t share what’s mine.”

  “Keeping lovers through force is nothing to boast about.”

  “Choice is appealing, force is not. Might does not always make right. Unless my bedmate asks nicely.” His gaze raked over me, and I wondered how well he could see into the shadows. “I take it you’ve accepted my invitation to play with envious emotions.”

  “Don’t you enjoy inspiring envy?”

  “Coming here to make my brother jealous does nothing for me.” He set his glass on a low table and flicked at imaginary lint on his suit. I caught sight of his emerald-tipped blade peeking out from his jacket and resisted the sudden urge to use it on him. He plucked up his drink again and finished it off. “Using someone is rude by any standards.”

  If that was what he believed, all the better. I stepped into the light, watching as his focus dropped to the pale lavender tattoo on my forearm. He’d been amused by it the first time he saw it. Now I knew why.

  “The first night I met you, you knew about my betrothal to Wrath. You mentioned something about tangled webs. Being less cryptic would have been nice. Especially if you were looking to form an alliance with me.”

  “In case you haven’t already noticed, I’m not nice. Nor do I pretend to be. And, even if I were afflicted with a conscience, I would have hated to ruin all the fun.” Envy’s lips pulled into a cruel slash when he noticed my necklace. “It was much more interesting to sit back and see how it played out. Some of us even wagered on the outcome. I cannot tell you how much I made off of Greed. But he is now in my debt, and I’m sure you can imagine how little he enjoys that.”

  I moved with purpose across the room. A sideboard with a decanter and glass sat waiting, and, without an invitation, I poured myself two knuckles of amber liquid and sat in the velvet chair beside Envy’s. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t call out my rudeness. Or lack of propriety or respect for his elevated rank.

  “You wanted me to join your House, even knowing about the betrothal bond I shared with your brother.” I took a small sip, anticipating the burn. “It must get lonely. Playing all those games by yourself.”

  “Whatever you’re attempting, I suggest stopping while I’m still feeling hospitable.”

  His tone was frosty, but he wasn’t quick enough to hide the flash of hurt in his eyes. My first shot had struck a bull’s-eye. I shoved any feelings of guilt aside. His temporary moment of pain was nothing compared to the finality of my twin’s brutal murder.

  “Imagine that.” I grinned over my drink. “And here I was under the impression I hadn’t yet been introduced to your manners. First, threats to me issued by your vampire lapdog, then holding my family hostage. We also can’t forget that nasty little incident in the tunnels with your invisible demon army and, of course, gutting Wrath.”

  “For someone who is here instead of with her betrothed, you certainly seem angry about that. I would have thought you’d consider it a favor.”

  “Turning your blade on yourself would have been the ultimate favor.”

  Much like when Wrath was displeased, the temperature around us seemed to plummet. I’d felt the frozen horror of Envy’s power and influence before, the ice-cold jealousy that eroded all sense of morality. The first licks of his power slid down my spine, but I’d been waiting.

  I lifted my hand, as if brushing away a strand of hair, and subtly ran my fingers over Wrath’s Mark. It broke this prince’s influence before it took hold, just as I’d hoped it would.

  Envy jerked back, his attention snapping to mine. A slow smile spread across his face, dousing the flicker of rage. “Ar
en’t you full of intrigue tonight. And here I worried dinner would be boring.”

  I kept my expression bland, but my heart raced. If he tried to use his power again, I wasn’t sure my little trick would work a second time. He seemed to sense that and was contemplating his next move. His lazy assessment reminded me of a cat that was deciding whether the bird fluttering close by was worth the effort of leaving his sunshine patch for.

  Envy’s gaze flicked to his House dagger.

  He removed it from its sheath and ran a finger along the blade. There was little doubt in my mind he was dreaming of creative ways to use it on me. My hand inched toward my own weapon, but I did not lift my skirts to reveal it. Whatever happened next, I’d be ready.

  We sat there for an uncomfortably long beat, the only sound the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. Envy stroked the metal, and I swore the blade almost purred. Just when I was certain he was about to pounce, a knock sounded at the door, breaking the murderous tension between us. Envy replaced his dagger. At his command, servants filed in carrying emerald trays and platters of food to the circular table near the far end of the room.

  The prince stood in one graceful movement and offered his arm. “Let us break bread tonight, not bones, Shadow Witch.”

  I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring his outstretched arm. We were not friends and I did not think he’d like for me to pretend in this instance. Everything about this evening felt like a test. Which suited me fine. I had a test of my own.

  I made my way to the table and sat as a chair was pulled out for me. Envy did not appear insulted, only more amused as he took the seat across from me. I doubted many of his subjects ever attempted to irk him. Like Wrath, my refusal to simper before his almighty power might intrigue him enough to entertain me. And my questions. Until he tired of them. I must tread carefully along the line of challenging him without going too far over it.

  “In vino veritas.” He waved the servants away and filled our goblets on his own. “In wine there’s truth. Mortals occasionally impress. Though I suppose they’re especially susceptible when it comes to their vices. Give man wine and he’ll wax poetic of its flavors. He’ll probably even liken it to a woman he bedded.” His gaze slid to mine. “Or wishes to.”

  I held my tongue. I did not believe he wanted to bed me. And if he did, it wouldn’t be for any other reason than to use it against his brother. “Why do you hate mortals?”

  “Assumptions are the death of truth.” He took another sip of his wine. “I do not suggest wandering down this current path.” He motioned to my goblet. “Have you ever tried using your magic on food or drink?”

  “No. Why in the seven hells would I do such a thing?”

  “Eight. And I ask because you can spell the wine to give you truth. Just as you would with a truth spell. Whoever drinks it will be under its thrall.”

  “I’m supposed to believe you’re telling me this out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “Don’t be daft. I can assure you, the closest I get to moral fiber is from ingesting whatever fiber is found in demonberry wine. You want truth and so do I. Why not ensure we both get what we desire? No games.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You must want something terribly bad if you’re willing to sacrifice that information to your enemy.”

  “We can be friends tonight.” He grimaced at the word friend as if pained by the idea. I arched a brow and he feigned ignorance. “Or lovers.”

  I waited to sense it, the magic of this world seducing me with thoughts of beds and bodies and passion. Just as it had done nearly every time the idea of spending the night with Wrath entered my mind. Envy was handsome, his body lithe but hard with muscle. I imagined he’d be attentive to any lover, even one he didn’t particularly find interest in. If only to drive them wild with envy when he moved on to other partners.

  There were no romantic feelings aside from the overwhelming desire I felt to kick him.

  “If I said yes, you would truly take me to bed.”

  “There are always sacrifices in war, love. I would do whatever I must. Though it would hardly be a sacrifice. Pillow talk is quite enjoyable. There are many secrets one reveals after such intimate affairs.” Envy gazed at his wine, his expression far away. “Now be a dear and spell our wine.”

  I hesitated. I wanted honest answers to my questions, but I was not sure I was ready to give him the same in return. He could ask anything and I’d be forced to lose my mask.

  Some risks were worth taking. And others were simply foolish.

  Envy’s head tipped to the side as he looked at me. “Is holding on to your truth worth more than learning mine? Perhaps it’s fear that’s holding you back. Maybe I ought to seduce you instead.”

  “You can’t goad me into doing your bidding, your highness. It’s prudent to consider all angles before subjecting myself to your interrogation.”

  “I could force you to tell me what I want, you know.” His voice was light, casual. Threats rolled off his tongue with the same ease one remarked on the weather. I ran my fingers across the Mark again, drawing his attention to my neck. “Through violence, my lady. Alexei isn’t the only fanged member of my house. Lose enough blood and I find that the effects are rather similar to truth wine. With less detriment to me, naturally.”

  Of course. He’d resort to gifting me to his vampires. I thought again about my twin. Vittoria must have made some difficult bargains, too.

  I pushed back from the table and someone rushed over to pull out my chair. It would take some time getting used to being doted on as if I were a pampered royal.

  I walked to Envy’s side and took his goblet. I whispered a truth spell over it, then repeated the process with the spare bottles, and my glass.

  Envy’s grin was positively disturbing as I retook my seat. He lifted his glass. “Cheers to a night of truth amongst enemies. May our hearts only bleed at the loss of our dignity and not because of a dagger in our backs.”

  He downed his entire glass in one go. I raised my brows. “Is that necessary?”

  “Not at all.” He refilled his goblet and took another large gulp. “But it doesn’t hurt.”

  I took a tentative sip of the wine. It didn’t taste different. If I hadn’t uttered the spell over it myself, I’d never know there was anything suspect about it. I frowned into my drink.

  Envy’s sudden bark of laughter broke me from my thoughts. “The witches who raised you kept many secrets, I see. It’s utterly delightful.”

  “What is?”

  “Watching as your perfect world crumbles.”

  “You’re an awful person.”

  “My dear, you keep forgetting. I’ve never been afflicted with humanity.” He lifted a shoulder and drank more. “Besides, I meant it in a good way. A phoenix rises from the ashes for a reason. Your world must be destroyed for you to rise anew. And rise you shall. Just as they always feared you would.”

  “How long before the truth spell works?”

  He finished off his glass and promptly poured another. “It’s already active.”

  “Do you like me?”

  “I find you tolerable. Should you meet a violent ending, I wouldn’t shed a tear. Nor would I rejoice. I would go on as if you never were.”

  I snorted in the most unladylike manner and took another sip of my drink. “The night my nonna attacked you… you seemed to know her. How?”

  “Curses are curious things.” He downed another glass and splashed more into his empty cup. “Sometimes they’re like trees. They stay rooted to the spot they’re planted. Other times they’re like wildflowers. Their seeds float along with the bees and fly with the birds. They tangle and grow and thrive outside of that original patch they were sprinkled upon. Kind of like keys. Not all keys fit in locks. Some keys are much more cunning.”

  I waited for his nonsensical ramblings to revert to a coherent answer. He simply gazed back at me. “That’s not even remotely close to what I asked. Are you drunk?”

  “Quite.” His s
mile was the first real one he’d given me. A dimple appeared in his right cheek. It softened the harshness he wore like armor. “But what I said is true. There are things I cannot say, no matter the spell used on our wine, because there are greater powers involved still. I know your grandmother. Though I know many other interesting secrets.”

  I wanted to know how he knew Nonna, but there was little use trying to pry information he clearly either couldn’t or wouldn’t give. “Tell me about the curse, then.”

  “It’s a tale so old its origins are known only to a few. And even their memories have become copperlike with the age and patina that’s formed over them, dulling their shine until the shadow of what was is all that remains.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The story of curses and stolen memories. And the unraveling of many lies.” He abruptly leaned back, nearly tipping his chair over. “My brother will never force you to marry him. It goes against all that he stands for.”

  “I didn’t ask about your brother.”

  “No, but I imagine you’re curious. Has he indicated he wishes for you to complete the bond?”

  I didn’t want to answer, but the truth spell enticed the words from my lips. “He’s told me about it, but he hasn’t indicated which he prefers.”

  “I won’t ask if you’ve considered it. Especially since we know the manner in which it’s accepted. At least in part.” I tried to not show relief, but Envy must have seen the slight flash of it in my face. His smile was cruel delight. “He may not force you to wed, but he will not meekly wait in the background. That is not his way, either. He will make his presence and intentions known to each royal House. As he did today.”

  I took another sip of the truth wine. “Why do you do that?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You always sow seeds of distrust between your brother and me.” I did not need to drink my wine to ask my next question. “Are you that envious of him? Or do you simply covet anything that isn’t yours?”

  “I am not always plagued by envious thoughts.” His green eyes flared with an emotion that wasn’t based in sneering or his namesake. “My brother’s temper caused something important to be taken from me. I hope to one day return the favor. It is not envy I am motivated by. It is retribution. Something I imagine you and I share in common, though I doubt you’ll admit it, even with the truth wine.”

 

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