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“He wants to check in. He needs to know you’re ready for what’s coming,” Esme says.

Ready? Ha!

Ever since I found out about my magic, I’ve been told it was evil. Sullied.

My powers originated in Faerie, a dark heritage from a forsaken land ruled by the most dangerous Fae of all, the Shadow King. My bedtime stories as a child were filled with elusive Fae creatures that slip through mirrors to feast on our nightmares and dreams, luring even the most valorous knights to their doom and coaxing beautiful maidens into their beds.

The Shadow King crafts living sins out of thin air and corrupts everything he touches, and I have to meet him in two days. All because my father made a deal to spare my mother from an incurable disease, back when she was pregnant with me.

“Here. Take this.” Esme reaches into the inside pocket of her skirts and retrieves a tiny wooden box engraved with an ancient scripture.

Thy Mother’s will is to be free of vanity.

“Is that?—”

Esme nods. “A mirror, yes—but you can’t open it now. Tonight, before bed, I want you to look at yourself.”

A mirror… Sweat gathers on my neck as she hands me the precious, forbidden box, and I quickly slip it inside the hidden compartment of my bottom drawer.

“Now, hurry downstairs,” Esme shoos me off.

I swallow hard.

If Father wants us to be alone, it means he’s finally decided to speak to me about my...circumstances.

“Penelope. There you are,” he calls from his seat at the dining table, looking as drunk and miserable as I’d expected.

“Father.” I give him a quick curtsy before sitting at the chair to his right.

The dining room is all decked-out for the occasion. In his mind, a silver butter knife and a bigger chandelier can apparently make up for the twisted fate that awaits me, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

He lays down his cloth napkin over his knees, his gaze slippery and unfocused. “I figured we needed to have a chat. Your birthday is the day after tomorrow.”

I keep my spine straight and stare down at my lap, knowing better than to argue with him, especially when he’s been drinking. “I’m ready, Father. I will not disappoint you.”

“You see…the Shadow Court uses tricks that might make it hard for you to keep a straight head. Don’t drink their wine, and eat as little as you can. They will try to corrupt you with their manipulative ideology, delicious booze, and attractive bodies—” He screws his eyes shut and shakes his head forcefully. “I should never have agreed to that bet. That demon tricked me.”

Father calls his deal with the Shadow King anything from “a dark bet between kings” to “a God-forsaken piece of horseshit.” Depending on how drunk he is when he’s talking about it.

“Esme has taught me well, Father.” I press my lips together to mask my impertinent thoughts. I know all of this already. Father always throws a fit when I bring it up and leaves it to Esme to fill in the blanks and take care of me and Cece. Does he have to rob me of my last few precious days of peace?

If only Mother was still here…

He swipes his goblet up, and a few droplets spill over the rim, the air suddenly charged with guilt. “Don’t forget. As long as you remain a maiden, he’s not allowed to touch you without your consent. I made sure that part of the deal was crystal clear.”

Heat gathers on my cheeks. He doesn’t mean it exactly as he said it. Of course, the Shadow King can touch me, but he cannot bed me without my consent. Despite the special education I received under Esme’s tutelage, my ears burn. Sexual pleasures are not discussed or encouraged in my world, but since I’m cursed to spend so much time in a land of debauchery, Esme has taught me words that my sister will probably never hear.

Lust. Orgasm. Cock.

I shake my head to banish the terms from my mind, trying not to think about the drawings she showed me.

“Can you tell me something else about the bet you made? About how I should act?” I look at him expectantly. Now that I’m almost an adult, he might be allowed to tell me the whole truth about it.

“Esmeralda has already told you all the details I could share.” Father clears his throat a few times before he adds, “Your mother was right when she hired Esme to teach you the ways of the Fae. With her help, you’re a bit more prepared. Fae can’t lie, so be wary of their exact words, because they will twist them to fit their designs.”

“Yes, Father.”

He stares down at me like he longs for absolution. He wants me to say that everything will be fine, but how could it be? He passed down the burden of protecting Demeter from our most fearsome enemy to me, his daughter. And I have no idea what will be demanded of me.