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“Ah,” she says darkly, eyes flashing. “Ah.”

“This isn’t—” I start helplessly.

“Célie Fleur Tremblay, this isexactlywhat it looks like.” She points a severe finger at my nose, quivering with righteous indignation and ignoring Michal completely. “Do not insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise. Ihaveconceived two children, you know—in wedlock,” she adds loudly at my grimace, “and the sordid requirements for such have not yet eluded my memory.”

Please, I beg the heavens, or perhaps the hells,let the ground open up and swallow me whole.

It does no such thing, of course, allowing my mother to gain her stride. Indeed, she quite literally begins to pace in front of us, pale and agitated and clutching the collar of her worn burgundy gown. “Tell me, areyouprepared to bring a child into this world? Are you prepared to birth it, to nurse it and to rear it, to dedicateit to the Lord? Such are the prizes of these wanton games, daughter!” I cringe again. “It matters not howfetchingthe libertine might be—” At last, she throws a disgusted glance at Michal, who glares at Dimitri, who coughs to disguise his snort of laughter. “In the end, the responsibility of such indiscretion falls upon the woman, not the man. Without a ring, you risk everything,everything, not to mention your immortalsoul—”

“Vampires cannot conceive or spread disease,” Odessa says flatly from behind us. “And vampiric philosophers have long debated whether immortals even possess souls to lose.” To her brother, she adds with ominous sweetness, still holding the enormous trunk, “Thankyou for helping with the luggage, by the way. Ever the gentleman, you are.”

“Oh, come on, Des.” Dimitri waves an errant hand toward Michal and me. “Someone needed to warn these two—”

But my mother hasn’t finished, stabbing her finger at Dimitri now instead. “Andyou—” He has the good sense to act contrite, instantly adopting an expression appropriate for a close friend’s sickbed. “I am disappointed in you too, young man. Though I expect the worst fromhim”—she doesn’t deign to look at Michal again—“I expected more from someone of your impeccable moral fiber. I sincerely hope you do notapproveof such—of such premarital fornication!”

Overwrought at the thought, she dissolves into a fit of great, wracking coughs, and I react without thinking, stepping around Michal to lay a hand upon her back. Even through the starched wool of her gown, her shoulder blade juts sharply against my palm. Likewise, the top of her spine—just visible beneath her chignon—seems to strain against her porcelain skin. “Have you lost weight?”I ask with a frown, momentarily forgetting my humiliation.

She looks a bit peaked, don’t you think?

“What are you talking about?” With one last irritated gasp, she brushes my hand aside and imitates the impeccable posture of a steel rod, as straight and unyielding as the ones in her corset. “Of course not. And surely I needn’t remind you of the vulgarity of such questions, Célie. Onenevercomments on the body of another.” She looks scandalized at the very thought, and the response is so thoroughly my mother that I push Death’s voice aside, banishing it to the farthest corner of my mind.She’s fine, I tell it fiercely.Of course she is.

“My sincerest apology for enabling such impropriety, Madame Tremblay.” Bowing, Dimitri presses a chaste kiss against my mother’s hand. “From this moment onward, I shall endeavor to become the most diligent of chaperones. The two shall never again convene outside my presence, and if they do—”

My mother has lost interest in their hands, however; now she peers intently at mine, her gaze sharpening on the scrap of fabric clenched between my fingers. “Célie,” she says suspiciously, “what is that in your—”

“I am glad to hear it, brother.” Odessa drops the trunk at his feet, jerking her chin toward the black curtain that leads to the washroom. Beyond it, a second chamber awaits my mother—Mila’s previous bedroom—furnished with simple yet sumptuous fixtures befitting a queen. “Can you also endeavor to unpack hermanypossessions in penance? You did enable impropriety, after all.”

I couldkissOdessa.

When my mother bends—indignant—to check her trunk for damage, I hastily stuff the undergarment into Michal’s pocket,scowling up at him when his lips twitch with suppressed laughter, daring him to utter a single word. Dimitri stifles another cackle, and I glare at him too. Because thisisn’t funny—not at all—and if ever a person couldperishof humiliation, it would be me. Here. Now. So why am I biting my cheeks to keep from giggling alongside them? Fromgiggling.

My mother will have a fit.

Before I can succumb, Michal steps forward smoothly, extending a hand toward the curtain. “You’ll find your room through the passage, Madame Tremblay.” A sharp smile. “Dimitriwill escort you, as well as stow your belongings and tend to your mealtimes. It should be dinner soon.”

“I have arranged for bread, cheese, and wine to be prepared,” Odessa adds. “It is not much, and for that, I apologize. The castle must believe you are my prisoner, not my guest.”

My mother sniffs in thinly veiled disapproval. “I quite understand.”

“After you, madame.” Still grinning broadly, Dimitri hauls her trunk to his shoulder and ushers her toward the curtain.

When the two disappear into the washroom, Michal withdraws my undergarment with a smirk, dangling it in front of my nose. “I assume you’ll be needing this?” I snatch it away from him—choking on that same inexplicable laughter, my cheeks flushed and my stomach tangled in knots—and turn to don it as quickly as possible, acutely aware of his eyes on my back. Odessa rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

“Are the two of you quite finished?” she asks, but Michal shakes his head when I hasten to nod, instantly chagrined. He doesn’t seem to mind his cousin’s exasperation, instead stepping forwardto button one of the pearls I missed. His fingers linger in the fabric, and a fresh chill sweeps down my spine at the slight brush of his skin against mine. Instinctively I tip my face toward his, staring at his lips.

“Not even close,” he promises.

My breath catches.

“Oh,enough.” Odessa slaps his hand away before snapping her fingers at us. “We need tofocusto figure out our next move. Everything is difficult enough without distractions.” She shoots a scathing look at Michal then, who spares her a fleeting glance. “As inyou, cousin, so wipe that ridiculous grin off your face before it becomes permanent.” Though she speaks sharply, her eyes seem to soften at whatever she sees in Michal’s, and something unspoken passes between them. Something significant. She catches herself in the next second, however, shaking her head and planting her hands on her hips. “Guinevere never checked in this evening, which might work in our favor as it gives us more time to plan. We need to be very careful, veryclever, as we think about this; we cannot simply lure Death here without proper channels in place to manage him when he arrives.” She waves a hand toward the maelstrom. “This will likely be our only chance to push him through.”

As one, we turn to look at the slowly churning waters, except—well, they don’t churn so slowly anymore. Even the surface current now looks vicious enough to swallow a man whole. “I don’t know that we’ll beableto push him.” Doubt creeps into my voice. “Not if he brings any revenants with him, let alone my sister. We’ll need some sort of—I don’t know—distractionto get him close to the water’s edge.”

“That,” Michal says, “will need to be one hell of a distraction.”

Odessa nods. “As will the lure. I doubt Death feels overly keen to return to his realm if the door is closing behind him.” She clears her throat. “Speaking of which, I’ve been giving some thought as to how we might—”

Before she can finish said thought, however, a silver shape streaks through the floor, and I gasp at the sight of Guinevere, my eyes pulsing with cold light. Michal’s follow suit. Immediately, I know something is wrong—Guinevere’s cheeks have flushed opaque, and as her eyes meet mine, they bulge with panic.