Page 23

L ord Turner made a show of his ‘winnings’, slowly meandering out of the courtyard, stopping to boast with one Ashlora after another.

All the while, my jaw ached. The knuckles of my free hand turned white as I fisted the purple fabric of my gown. When I thought I might scream from the torture, we exited the courtyard, leaving the boisterous partygoers behind.

“Lord Turner,” a deep voice called from down the hall.

I turned to see Lord Embers.

“Lord Embers. Interesting to see you here,” the old man replied.

“Yes, I’m here for business, of course.” Lord Embers smiled. His eyes darted to me, then back, avoiding my gaze. “I see you are enjoying a bit of a winning streak,” he said to Lord Turner.

“Indeed.” The old Ashlora snickered, tugging me closer.

“The night is still young. Perhaps you would like to play a round in my private quarters?” Lord Embers asked.

What is he doing? He is up to something; I can feel it.

Lord Turner glanced at me, then back to Lord Embers. “A wise man takes his winnings while he’s ahead.” He assured him with a wink.

“Oh, such a pity. It seemed luck was shining on you tonight and I thought you’d like to play for something more valuable.

... Something you’ve been coveting for a while now.

” Lord Embers’ hand rose to toy with a large stone pendant hanging around his neck.

It was unlike anything I’d seen before, the surface an iridescent violet black. Light rippled off it like water.

Lord Turner’s eyes lit up at the sight. “Really? You would be willing to bet a fortune stone?” He snorted. “And what are you suggesting would be a suitable wager in return?” His brow raised in question.

“Well, I will not lie to you. I am having some luck as of late too, making my confidence high.” Nodding to me, Lord Embers said, “I think your winnings from this evening would be a fair gamble.” As he said it, his eyes locked with mine.

I recalled the way I’d spoken to Lord Embers in the hall a few days prior. I had all but spat in his face and called him a monster. Is he seeking retribution ? The air squeezed out of my chest.

“Ah, I see,” Lord Turner said, observing the look Lord Embers directed at me.

I doubted many Ashlora would find a single night with a human servant equal to the value of such a remarkable stone. Even I could see the deal was in Lord Turner’s favor.

As predicted, the old Ashlora agreed. “Humans are easy enough to come by, pretty as this one is.” He bobbed his head in my direction, but his eyes flashed down to the stone around Lord Embers’ neck. “I find those terms very agreeable.”

“Then we have a game,” Lord Embers’ grin grew wide. “Come. I have a table set in my room.”

I tried to pull away from Lord Turner’s grip as we wound through the halls, but his calloused hands remained clamped down. “You are still mine until he wins,” he hissed in my ear, the sharp tang of blood potion heavy on his breath.

We approached the grand stairwell and started climbing to the third floor.

“You must be a favored guest of Lady Jesmine,” Lord Turner noted. “Few are accommodated the luxury suite.”

“I don’t know how favored I am, but I have had much business with Lady Jesmine these past months, and she insisted it was more convenient if we were on the same floor.”

“Yes, I hear she is growing rather adept with her warding methods against those abominable Slips.”

Lord Embers flashed a half smile and replied, “That she is.”

I narrowed my eyes —as if he isn’t familiar with those things himself.

We entered through the familiar carved door of dancing figures, and thankfully, Lord Turner released me. I remained standing and stepped away as the two men moved further into Lord Embers’ chambers.

The older Ashlora man made himself at ease, lounging in a chair at the small dining table. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more of that blood potion Lady Jesmine serves, would you?”

“No, sorry,” Lord Embers replied. “That’s not really my taste.”

Their pleasantries faded into the background as I tried to tuck myself further against the perimeter, eager to blend in with the wallpaper.

“Would you care for a drink? …”

My attention refocused. Is Lord Embers speaking to me?

“I’m sorry, my lord?” I addressed him properly, hoping it might ease the sting of my previous outburst.

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Would you care for a drink, Nova?”

“No. No, thank you.”

“Well, please make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the two burgundy chairs beside the fireplace.

Warily, I took my place in the room, sitting at the edge of the cushioned armchair.

The men started their game, and I stared at the fire, trying to prepare myself for what was to come.

The glances Lord Turner had given me left no doubt about what his intentions would be if he won.

I didn’t know what punishment I would receive for it, but I wouldn’t take part willingly.

I knew that much. And if Lord Embers won …

Well, he would be a much stronger opponent, but I would fight just as hard.

As the men played their hands, I scanned the room for any form of defense. There was a small silver knife resting on the side table near a tray of appetizers. While the knife was barely suitable to scrape jelly on toast, it was a means of defense that I’d rather have than not.

I looked over at their game, feigning interest.

Trying not to give myself away, I focused on keeping my outward demeanor natural—despite my quickening pulse. I readjusted my posture and set an arm over the chair, all the while keeping my eyes directed toward the table where the men played.

A few more cards were laid down, and I shifted again, my hand just below the edge of the table.

I waited for their attention to be drawn elsewhere.

Lord Embers made his next move, and I reached for the knife.

Cold metal met my palm, and I slid the pointed object into my sleeve. Quickly making another adjustment to my posture, this time I crossed my legs and rested both hands in my lap, knife secured.

A fist slammed into the card table, and I jumped.

“Drown you, Devrix! I should have known better than to be lured into your games.” Lord Turner rose. He tipped back his drink and gulped the remainder of its contents. Shooting me a glare, he muttered under his breath, then stomped to the front of the room.

The door slammed behind him. Lord Turner had lost the bet, and my services.

I sat up straighter and peeled my gaze from the door. Now alone with the Ashlora I’d verbally condemned during our last encounter.

Lord Embers shrugged. “He’s never been a good sport.”

I remained silent and still. For a long moment, Lord Embers watched me.

Bloody shadows. Is he already expecting something? Maybe before I had seen the notes exposing the kind of man he was, I wouldn’t have found the idea of his affection so appalling. But now? Now I know he can’t be trusted—those experiments were done on humans.

He broke the silence, “I will say, I was surprised not to see your lover intercept on your behalf. Bet a hand, or at least attempt to save you when you left the party and were escorted through the halls.”

“My lover?” I scoffed. “Is that some sort of joke? I don’t know who you imagine that would be in such a place as this.” I felt my anger rise.

Who did he imagine I was sneaking off into dark corners with?

“My mistake then.” He slowly rose from the table and made his way over to the empty chair across from me.

My hand ached to palm the knife, but I feared giving away my one defense too soon.

Instead, in as neutral a tone as I could muster, I asked, “What services exactly are you needing me to provide? I would like to return to my room as early as possible.” I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze as he set his drink down.

“What?” he huffed. “Nova, what do you think this is? I just played that hand of cards to save you from such a fate. The only thing I am hoping for is that you will answer a question or two.” He settled in the chair across from me.

“And what question is that?” My voice trembled as I finally looked up at him.

He didn’t hesitate. “What have I done to upset you? I thought we were on friendly terms, and then the other day you looked at me as if I was a scourge upon the living.”

“Sorry, I was having a bad day.” I wasn’t truly sorry for my words, but lies are best dealt with a layer of truth.

“Hmmm.” His lips thinned and he lifted an arm. At the sight of his Ashlora hand, I pushed back in my chair, realizing too late that he was only reaching for his drink. His expression darkened. “Bless the suns, I’m not going to hurt you, Nova.”

My body remained tense at the thought of Jesmine’s burning hands. Lord Embers may not have been the Keeper, but he was still an Ashlora, and I’m sure he could drain my life just as easily.

He stared at me for a long moment, studying my eyes, my lips, then his gaze drifted to my hands that were clasped together tightly in my lap.

He pulled in a long breath. “I fear I am more tired than expected. We will need to keep up the appearance that you have fulfilled your night of services. But let’s postpone the evening until tomorrow. ”

When I sat frozen, he added, “You are free to go.”

My legs itched to flee for the door, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me run. I rose from my chair, my stare burning into his, and gave a mocking bow. “Thank you, my lord .”

“Please, call me Devrix.” His teasing smile grew as the words came out.

Keeping my focus fixed on him, I crossed over to the door.

As I reached for the handle, Devrix interrupted, “And Nova, if you wouldn’t mind, leave the cutlery on the table.”

I stilled— how does he know?

I could think of nothing to reply. With no other option, I dragged the knife from my sleeve.

The knife might have done some good against the old Ashlora man, but against Lord Embers—or Devrix —it would have been a laughable distraction.

He kept watch as I approached the table and laid the dull knife back on the platter.

“Things are not always what they seem, Nova. I hope you remember that for our next visit.”

I exited without another word.