Page 49

Chapter thirty-three

Nerys

T he next morning, Nerys awoke well after the sun rose.

She groaned at the ocular violation, followed shortly thereafter by a painful quake in her stomach.

Her vision was foggy and her head pounded as the sun assaulted her senses.

She felt hungover, despite not having drank a drop of spirits. What had happened last night?

Exhaustion. Exhaustion was what happened.

Sleep deprivation from her first night at court, which turned into a deadly hunting trip, which turned into Idris, and then to Vine, and then the rambunctious noble with questionable taste in music down the hall.

No wonder she was tired. She had been at court for less than two days and already she won the Kor’yitz’s favor and almost gotten herself killed and made at least one enemy in the process. Quite the accomplishment.

Once she was ready to re-join the living, Nerys dressed in a white satin contraption that passed for a simple court dress and went to the dining area. There, a breakfast waited, consisting of steaming hot chocolate, fluffy rolls, sliced imported oranges, and tea.

And Nerys wouldn’t be dining alone—Qiana stared out the window at the snowy landscape while she drank out of her porcelain tea cup, seemingly deep in thought. She turned as Nerys approached and set the cup on a saucer, sending a delicate ring through the room.

“Good morning,” Qiana said. “Sleep well?” Her expression was placid, like cream laying in a bowl. Maybe that was because of the amount of cream on her face—up close, Nerys could make out the extra layer of cosmetics under her eyes.

“I slept too well, for the most part,” Nerys muttered. What exactly should she tell Qiana about the hunt? Nerys hadn’t seen her at all yesterday, even after she returned to the palace with the Kor’yitz.

No point in answering questions with an empty stomach. Without waiting for an invitation, Nerys plunked on a chair, helped herself to one of the rolls, and slathered it with some sort of berry marmalade. Qiana could start the conversation, if one needed to be had.

“You’re already making a name for yourself,” Qiana said, eying the way Nerys heaped the sugared fruit on her bread. “Suddenly you’re the most notorious woman at court.”

So that’s what Qiana wanted to talk about.

“What does that mean? How does anyone know what happened with the Kor’yitz?”

“Please” ?Qiana flicked her wrist? “you were with the Kor’yitz of all people. And Nerine is dead.”

Nerys dropped her roll, sending the poor pastry marmalade-side down on the table linen.

“The Kor’yitz had her executed,” Qiana explained, ignoring the roll. “She decapitated Nerine herself.”

What? How could Adelyna have done that? She seemed so pleasant yesterday, it was impossible to imagine her killing someone.

Nerys shivered—this was a valuable reminder of who she was dealing with, the world she was in now.

No matter what people seemed, they wielded true power, and struck down who they chose.

“How…how did she…how did she know for sure it was Nerine who attacked her?”

“You described the demonic woman, yes?”

Nerys nodded.

“That was Nerine’s demon.”

“And it couldn’t be…another one?” Nerys reached for another roll. What if Nerys had said the wrong thing and an innocent woman had died for it?

Qiana raised an eyebrow. “How many demons have you seen that look alike? To the point of describing the broken ankles and very distinctive eyes and manacle?”

None, though Nerys didn’t make a habit of demon hunting.

“What if—”

“It’s done,” Qiana said, interrupting her.

“But what if she wasn’t trying to kill the Kor’yitz? What if it was an accident?”

Qiana rolled her eyes and thunked her hand on the table.

“Callidora—if you’re going to survive at court you need more sense.

It doesn’t matter what she was trying to do.

You don’t send your demon after—or even near—royalty.

Ever. I’ve been telling Adelyna for years that she needs to arrange her own demonic protection—ideally with me to guide her—but she refuses. ”

“Doesn’t she have guards for that? ”

“No. It’s a sign of weakness for royalty to need to rely on official protection from the hidden planes. She’s had to make do with friends who have acted to protect her, despite not having her blessing.”

“Why?”

“Stubbornness, I suppose. Though this event might have changed her mind.”

“Oh.” Nerys poured herself some tea and added three heaping spoonfuls of sugar, trying not to think of Nerine’s lifeless corpse.

Qiana sighed and refilled her teacup. “Stop frowning. And don’t concern yourself with the possibility that Nerine may have been innocent. There was no mistake. Nerine confessed, repeatedly. Apparently, she whispered something to the Kor’yitz that left nothing in doubt.”

Oh, good. For Nerys. Sort of. Not Nerine. Fuck, was this how people at court always started their day? Discussing executions?

“Qiana,” Nerys asked, desperate to talk about anything else, “is there a way to tell who a demon is? Or their history? Other than taking them at their word?”

Qiana nodded mid-swallow, unfazed by the change in topic. “Yes—there are books. I have one on that shelf there.” Qiana enthusiastically nodded towards the bookcase snug against the wall near Nerys’s bedroom door. “Did your demon tell you who he is? Other than his name?”

“Not really. Just vague allusions to his strength.” Vine probably wasn’t even his real name. That seemed like something he would do.

Qiana chuckled. “Yes, that sounds like a demon. Well, if you can find him in the book, he is likely to be ‘someone,’ though that book hasn’t been updated in at least a century. Things change, even in the Underworld. You should read it regardless—I haven’t had the time to teach you as I’d like.” 170

“You mean before I obtained a demon companion?”

“Exactly.”

Figured.

Nerys helped herself to another roll and then they engaged in light conversation about what Nerys was going to wear for the day—a normal breakfast topic—until Qiana said, “I’ve received a few invitations inviting you to engagements, but there’s only one I think worth taking, at least for today—dinner seated near the royal table. A direct invitation from the Kor’yitz.”

“That’s an engagement? Sitting near someone else while they eat?”

Qiana huffed. “Truly, what did they do with you all those weeks? This is your best chance to see the R?ll and be seen—so yes, we will be attending and sitting . And maybe after it we will attract more engagements from other courtiers.”

“Why? Do I really need to attend those too? There’s no point if the R?ll won’t be there. I can’t imagine he attends many ladies’ teas.”

“Because Callidora ” ?Qiana lowered her voice to keep anyone from overhearing? “while we both know you won’t be at court after one night with the R?ll, the rest of the court doesn’t.

It would look very strange indeed if you didn’t try cultivating other connections.

Besides, what the court desires, the R?ll also craves—they are the ticket to his attention. You should have learned that at least.”

“I see.”

For a moment Qiana paused in raising her teacup, before she resumed her motion and said, “Another thing—now that the court knows that you have the sight, do not call your eyes at this event.”

“I…wasn’t planning on it.” Demons and dinner did not mix.

“I mean it. While the court has plenty of Sight Bearers it is…gauche to display that ability without care.”

“That’s strange.” Though Nerys had known as much already. “I’d think people would be thrilled to display such a thing.”

Qiana shrugged. “That’s the court. There’s a time and a place for everything.”

“Great.” Nerys lifted her teacup to her lips and downed it in one swallow. The tea raced through her veins, charging her to meet another day of titles, bowing, and idle gossip. She’d have preferred another day of Nerine’s demon. Almost.

“Yes, all this is great,” Qiana said, managing to look down her nose at her, though said nose was well below Nerys’s.

“I thought it was going to take months for him to notice you—you’re not guaranteed any audience.

After tonight, he will know who you are.

And I’ll be honest, my dear ward , I don’t know nearly enough about what the R?ll has planned, but I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting months. ”