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“Oh, stop!” I giggle, the sound hysterical to my own ears. “I think being a consort will be fun.”

His expression grows pained, but he doesn’t say anything. I hope he got the message.

Because if he tries to save me, he might get himself killed.

The consorts’ quarters are disturbingly luxurious.

I stretch out on the velvet couch, my laptop propped on my thighs. A delicate porcelain cup rests on the table beside me—my second hot cocoa of the evening, made exactly to my liking by one of the attendants who appeared the moment I asked.

It’s almost enough to distract me from my fear. What did Rhett mean? He talked to someone… Did he mean the police?

I can’t keep obsessing over it. It’s out of my control. I just have to pray that God will give him wisdom.

I try to distract myself with schoolwork, but it’s difficult. I’m still working on this damn social psychology project. Thanksto Damian, I’m doing it alone. A few weeks ago, I received an email from Professor Moore. Connor ismysteriouslyno longer my partner for the group project, and I was given a month-long extension.

“I’m impressed to see some actual studying here.” Lucy’s voice pulls me into the present. “Everyone else has YouTube on their screens.”

She plops down beside me. Her voice lowers to a whisper, “They’re all looking at you.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

Lucy gestures with her chin, drawing my attention across the room. Coraline’s gaze is fixed on us, her expression sharp.

Lucy smirks. “See? The queen is watching. She knows her king is straying. That he’s a little too interested in his latest consort.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t even seen him in weeks.”

She grins. “I think he’s avoiding you on purpose. Did you know he has a staff member report your movements to him on the hour.”

My cheeks heat, though whether it’s with disgust or flattery, I’m not sure.

Lucy leans in close, her gaze fixed on a group of girls on the couch across from us. “Don’t you think it’s kind of sad how they’re all waiting around for an appearance from Damian?” she whispers.

Are they waiting out of anticipation or fear?

But I can’t ask Lucy that. I doubt she even knows how scary Damian can become when he wants something. She knew him as a child, which means she’s probably biased after seeing that sweet side of him I’ve glimpsed on occasion. I’ll bet that’s exactly what he was like as a boy.

“Was Damian interested in poker as a kid?” I find myself asking her.

She looks startled by my change in subject, but then she smiles. “Yes! He got me into it too. I fucking love poker, and I’m a shark, because guys always assume girls won’t be good at it. Growing up, we were always having game nights with Damian’s friends.” Her expression clouds over. “But my dad put an end to that when he found out. Lucas Cross—the thief of joy.”

Something churns in my stomach. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, you would not even believe him.” She waves a hand. “He took awayanythingthat made us happy. Damian and I literally had to hide anything we did that was remotely fun. We knew he’d ban it, and he’d have this bullshit explanation as to why. ‘Poker is for degenerates. Minecraft rots the brain.’ The truth is that he’s just a sadist.”

Sadist.She said it lightly, but I’ll bet she meant every word, and something cold creeps up my spine.

I’ve seen it in Damian too—that glint in his eyes when someone’s squirming under his control. The way he watches reactions like he’s studying prey.

“Lucy.” It’s Coraline’s voice, and it makes me jump. When I look up, she’s hovering over us. “Ava shouldn’t be in here. She’s not a consort yet.”

Lucy scowls. “I’mcertainlynot a consort either.”

“The lord regent doesn’t mind if you’re in here.”

“He doesn’t mind if she’s in here either.”

Coraline’s lips curve into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Did he say that?”