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“You knew, even then, that Toven was going to buy me,” Briony said.

Larissa stabbed a new brush into a powder and hummed in confirmation.

Briony took a breath, heart pounding. “Do you know why?”

Larissa turned to her, hair swaying delicately. Her eyes took in Briony’s, studying her, before narrowing like a predator’s.

“I do,” said Larissa, with a twist to her lips. “Eyes closed, Rosewood.”

Briony opened her mouth to protest, but Larissa was already coming at her with the brush. Briony closed her eyes, puffing out her breath in defeat.

She kept silent and still as Larissa finished her eyeshadow.

After, she felt Larissa twisting her fingers through Briony’s hair, letting magic drift through the curls, tightening and taming them.

When she was finally finished, Larissa grabbed the back of the chair, wrenching her toward the mirror so she could see herself.

Briony was a shadow. A figment of someone’s imagination. Her cheekbones shimmered and her eyes were enormous. Her brows were crisp and jaw sharp—just like Larissa’s. Her curls danced around her face like a lion’s mane.

“You hate it, I know,” Larissa said, putting her things away with a flick of her fingers. “But you’ll have to bear it.”

Larissa started to clean up all the powders and brushes, and Briony felt the clock ticking closer to ten.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Briony asked, her stomach twisting in knots.

“Be sure to take all this off and wash your face afterward,” Larissa muttered.

“No, I mean …” Briony hesitated. “Anything about how to act?”

Larissa met her eyes in the mirror and bit back a smile. “What do you want to know?”

Briony watched her organize the counter.

“What does Toven like?”

Larissa laughed. “Well, doing what Toven likes and doing what looks good at Biltmore are two different things.”

Briony’s brows furrowed. “Do you mean that Toven doesn’t like conventional affection?”

“No, no. It’s just that …” Larissa smiled. “Well, doing what he likes while trying to play a part? That’s asking for a bit of trouble, don’t you agree?”

Briony didn’t follow. Trouble for whom?

Larissa shook her head and said, “You know what, why not?”

She bent over Briony’s chair and ran her fingers through Briony’s thick curls. Briony immediately thought of the evening woman Larissa had told her about.

“Toven tends to like soft touches to the back of his neck.” Larissa demonstrated, letting her fingers tickle the back of Briony’s head. She gave small tugs on the wispy hairs at the base of her skull.

Briony thought it felt quite nice, but it wasn’t really a turn-on for herself.

“Especially when your fingers are cold,” Larissa said, pulling her hand away.

“My fingers are always cold,” Briony quipped.

Larissa snorted. “That’s right,” she said with a knowing smile. “Are you really still cold in Bomard? After all these years?”

Briony nodded.

Larissa leveled her gaze at her. “It’s summer, for stones’ sake, Rosewood.”

Briony shrugged.

Next, they went to grab Briony’s dress and heels from the wardrobe. Larissa cast a charm on the shoes to make them more comfortable and prevent Briony’s ankles from rolling. It was life-changing.

“Have a good evening,” Larissa said. “My goal is to have an hour of full transmogrification by Monday.” She walked to the door with a sway to her steps. She would probably be up the entire night working on her studies.

“Do get some rest, Larissa. It’s no good passing out during lessons.”

At the threshold, she turned and smiled. “Oh, don’t go getting attached to me now, Rosewood. It will make it so much harder to despise you.”

She disappeared, and the door clicked closed behind her.

***

Briony’s dress was black lace tonight, with a low neck. It was tight on her body, leaving very little to the imagination.

With shoes on and one last look in the mirror, Briony headed down the hallway.

She’d found her footing by the time she descended the stairs, but the sight of Toven watching her from the ground almost sent her stumbling again.

His eyes dripped over her face, dress, and legs before tearing away and staring down at the marble.

It was the first time he’d looked directly at her since Saturday, when he’d described in perfect detail all the ways in which he had her every day. He’d refused to look at her at dinner with his mother. Briony’s heart raced and her skin tingled.

She clicked down the stairs in her heels, awkwardly listening to every step until she reached the bottom.

He didn’t immediately cast the portal, so she asked, “Is it the same entry every time? Through the main gates?”

After a beat, he nodded, almost as if snapping out of a trance. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and surprised her when he offered, “The dinner will be infinitely tamer tonight.”

He sliced his finger and cast a portal. Briony paused before she offered her arm to him.

“The president of Southern Camly doesn’t support Mallow, does she?” she asked. “That’s why Juliana was taken and made a heartspring. To coerce him into changing his mind.”

“That’s about the short of it,” he said.

He took her elbow, pulling her through a void to the path outside Biltmore.

She allowed the long walk up to the gates to center her mind, the breeze to cool her emotions, and the sound of her footsteps to confirm that it was truly happening again.

The wolves howled, the guards smacked their lips, and the crowd of Bomardi in the courtyard whistled. She ignored them all, hardly registering their jeers as she focused on a lake with still waters.

Toven was putting on a show of being quite relaxed.

During their first walk into Biltmore, he was rushed and anxious.

This time, he was shouting back at the crowd with a laugh, stopping to chat with someone at the top of the stairs, and teasing someone who was coughing on their cigar.

But when the spectators vanished and it was only the two of them, his face fell, an empty expression in his eyes.

He led her through the doors to the grand hall, and Briony’s breath caught to see Ilana turning to them with a tray of champagne.

“Master Hearst,” she said with a flirty grin. “Good evening. I have Minister Bagis back again.”

Toven declined a fact sheet, and Ilana’s eyes met hers briefly before offering her champagne.

“Miss Rosewood, welcome.”

Briony reached for her own glass this time, hoping to draw Ilana’s eyes, but she was already pushing aside the curtain and letting them into the hall.

The music and the chatter hit her like a wall, stirring her memories of two weeks ago. She was flooded with terror for a freezing moment before feeling Toven’s hand on her back, warm and steadying.

He stopped to talk with people as they sipped their champagne. Briony tried to catalog the guests and conversations more fastidiously this time. Two weeks ago, she was far more focused on the women. This time, she needed to listen to the whispered jokes and unspoken clues.

Toven greeted Carvin, who did not have Phoebe hanging off his elbow. Briony’s eyes scanned for her as inconspicuously as possible, but with no luck.

“Toven,” a slimy voice called out behind them. They turned and found Caspar Quill, Liam’s father, approaching, one hand on his cane. There was a round man at his side. “I was just telling Minister Bagis from Starksen about the protections on our heartsprings.”

Toven shook hands, and Briony finally matched the name with the face of Minister Bagis.

He was one of the leaders of Starksen’s government and had conveniently ignored the letter she’d written to him in urgency, asking for his support while Mallow marched on Rory’s armies.

He was portly with rheumy eyes and pink mottled skin.

Quill continued, sloshing his glass a bit as he spoke. “I assure you, these protections we have cannot be beat. These tattoos? Unbreakable.”

Briony’s ears pricked.

“Ah,” said Toven. “So these ‘tattoos’ cannot be broken, but the portal boundary lines can?” His eyes glinted cruelly as he watched the insult land on Quill.

“Precisely,” Quill growled. “The magic is impenetrable. We have gone further than anyone in history to secure our heartsprings!” Quill gestured to the whole room, sloshing his glass. “The ancient Dawards, the clans of Starksen. Not even the Durlings could succeed where we have!”

He was drawing attention. Several nearby heads turned to see the commotion.

And it all fell into place. Quill had created the tattoos.

Briony looked down, her mind working quickly.

The Durlings.

She’d seen the term before. She couldn’t place where, but the group had appeared somewhere in her reading.

“Right you are, Caspar,” Toven said silkily. “And I do hope my father’s library was helpful to you in your efforts to secure the portal boundary line. We are happy to point you in the right direction, should you ever be lost again.”

Briony’s brows jumped before she could school her face. Quill looked murderous.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really should be going.”

Toven’s fingers curled tightly on the curve of her waist, unsteadying her until she had to step back, following him toward the stairs.

She was racking her brain so hard to remember who the Durlings were that she almost forgot that she was headed upstairs into another viper’s pit.

“Not leaving already, Hearst?” a gravelly voice sounded from their right. “I haven’t even had a chance to say hello.”

Toven froze. Briony’s chest rattled, her hair standing on end from the memory of eyes on her naked body, a hand between her legs, a scratchy voice whispering filthy things into her ear.

A tall man with a twisted nose and twisted smile stepped into their path, and Briony came face-to-face with Lag Reighven for the first time since he’d won her at the auction.