Page 33 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

Or just before that, when he’d made the decision to play a role, and realized even though he was pretending, he’d never forget the way his friends looked at him as if he was scum of the earth…

the way his sister had looked at him as if he were a stranger to her, one whose throat she would willingly slit if given the chance.

Aidon took another sip of his drink. “I take it he doesn’t agree with your lifestyle.”

Dauphine chuckled into her glass. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“He must realize how much you’ve sacrificed to provide for him?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter, once they’ve decided we’re monsters?” She ran a finger over the arm of the chair, her nail scratching at the fabric. “Though I didn’t realize quite how much he hated me until he entered himself into the fighting rings in Dunmeaden.”

“I’m vaguely familiar with the custom,” Aidon frowned. It was quite exclusive to Tala. Trahirians gambled in other ways, most of them far less bruised and bloody.

“There’s an entire season dedicated to it,” Dauphine explained. “Fighters gain notoriety and coin, and sponsors. It can be incredibly lucrative, if you know who to back.”

Aidon shot her a bemused look. “Like an Anima?”

“Technically, Anima with a history of leveraging the death-bringing side of their affinity are banned. Healers, however…”

Aidon scoffed. “Is there a difference?”

“Between saving a life and taking one?” Dauphine smiled. “You tell me.”

Aidon rolled his eyes. Of course there was a workaround, and of course she had leveraged it.

“Anyway,” she continued pointedly, “it wasn’t an Anima this time.

I had found a Zeluus to sponsor. He was brutal.

” Her voice dropped with the remark, her eyes widening as she lost herself in the memory.

“He’d left his last three competitors dead in under five minutes by the time I was able to provide sponsorship. ”

Disgust roiled in Aidon’s gut, and Dauphine clocked it instantly. Her smile turned dark. “Did you expect a code of honor, Your Majesty? You’ll find no such thing in the fighting rings of Dunmeaden’s underbelly. The fighters know the likelihood of death. Why do you think the bets are so lucrative?”

She sighed as she tapped her pointer finger against the side of her glass. “Things with Luc had been tense for a while. By then, I had begun my mercenary work, and he didn’t approve.”

“Not a fan of loose loyalty, was he?”

Dauphine’s glare was as sharp as the grin she loved to hide behind. “From the man who killed his uncle.”

Aidon’s grip on his glass tightened . “You have no idea what you speak of,” he murmured.

“Don’t I?” Dauphine retorted.

“My uncle would have used me as a weapon to aid Kakos.”

“So my point stands: you of all people know that loyalty is not so simple.” Her anger dissipated as quickly as it had flared as she slumped back against the cushions, but the irritation remained, thick in her voice as she pressed on.

“Regardless, Luc was not particularly pleased about the way I kept food on our table. Never mind it bought his education. His opportunities. His life .”

Her jaw shifted, and she took another sip of her drink. Aidon mirrored her, keeping his lips pressed tight. It was a delicate balance, maintaining this ruse. The room already had a hazy glow to it, his head feeling lighter than it had hours ago.

“I didn’t realize how bad it was,” she admitted into the silence. She stared unseeingly at some point between them, and for a moment, she looked so young. Innocent, even.

Like she was just another person his age, fighting to stay alive in a world that was ruthless.

“It was the day of the fights,” Dauphine continued.

“I had kept track of the opponents, of course.” Of course.

Any gambler worth their salt would do their due diligence.

“But anyone can substitute in for a fighter if they truly want to. It hardly happens in the higher tiers, not with the danger it presents. But it’s not unheard of. ”

Dauphine’s throat bobbed. “Luc took the opponent’s place. I didn’t know until he was lining up on the far side of the ring.”

There was a heaviness to the second part of her confession, the guilt on her face like peering into a mirror. Aidon had been haunted with shoulds for months.

He should have known Dominic was planning something.

He should have known Viviane was entangled with the Bellare.

He should have known Josie was hurting more than she had let on in the months since.

He should have done something about it.

“I suppose his intention was to make me choose,” Dauphine continued. “The money from the winnings, or his life.”

“I take it he’s not a fighter?”

Dauphine chuckled, the sound heavy and sad. “He’s a Terra.”

“I’ve met several Terra who could bury me alive.”

“Not Luc,” Dauphine said with a shake of her head. “He doesn’t use his affinity to destroy. He only uses it for beauty. Not like us.”

Us.

Aidon hated how easily she accepted his power, how she didn’t think of him as anything different or strange. It felt like baring a part of himself he wasn’t ready for anyone to see.

He avoided her gaze, looking instead at the flowers lining the shelves on the wall. When he finally was ready to face her again, he found her watching him.

“He apprentices for a florist in the market. He’ll take over the shop one day.”

Pride was woven through her words. Pride and wistfulness, like she was speaking of a future she would never be a part of.

“What happened at the fight?” Aidon prodded.

“Hm?”

“With your Zeluus.”

Dauphine leaned back against the cushions, her legs crossing in the seat. “Will happened. He recognized my brother and jumped into the ring to take his place. The fight was underway before Luc could object.”

A sad smile twisted at her lips, her green eyes distant with the mix of reminiscing and alcohol. “It was the first and only time I’ve seen Will Castell beaten to a bloody pulp.”

Aidon frowned. “Why would he do that?”

Dauphine chewed on the inside of her cheek before finally shrugging.

“I’ve told myself for years it’s because he’s wanted something to hold over my head.

And maybe it is.” She shot a pointed look at Aidon, as if his presence was proof of that enough.

Will had leveraged their past after all, hadn’t he?

How long had he been waiting to play this card?

“But now,” Dauphine sighed, “I’m afraid it’s far worse than that.”

“Oh?”

She slumped over in her seat again, her head lolling over the tufted arm. “I think, despite how hard he fights it, Will is a good person. Why else would I decide to help you three?” Her face softened as she looked across the room at Aidon. “He loves her, doesn’t he? The Second Saint?”

Aidon considered his glass, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

“I think Will might love Aya more than anyone has ever loved another person.” He set his glass down with a decided thunk .

“She was used by her queen. She was taken from Dunmeaden. Whatever happened the other week in Sitya…she’s not what they say she is.

Aya would sacrifice herself in a heartbeat if it meant saving our realm.

And Will would sacrifice the realm if it meant saving Aya. ”

Dauphine hummed in consideration. “Where does that put those of us in the middle?”

“I suppose it requires us to choose a side.” His head cocked as he searched her face. “Do you…have feelings for him?”

A loud laugh burst from Dauphine. “Gods, no. I’m just curious about what motivates one to risk their lives so foolishly.” Her smile turned coy as she fixed it on Aidon. “I told you in the brothel where my interest lies.”

“Now I know you’re drunk,” Aidon scoffed. He glanced at the windows, the pitch black of night doing nothing to tell him the hour. He knew it was late, though. They’d been up for hours, and he’d accomplished more than enough with this ruse.

“We should go to bed,” Aidon suggested.

Dauphine lifted her head, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she looked him over. “Together?”

Aidon laughed. Seven hells, she was relentless. “I hardly think that’s appropriate.”

Dauphine’s grin widened as she stood and crossed to the couch, her hips swaying with her steps. Her gaze flitted to his lips as she braced her hands on either side of him.

“Oh?” she breathed as she peered down at him

“I don’t make a habit of sleeping with mercenaries.” His voice was low and gruff, and he cleared his throat. “Besides, you’re drunk.”

Dauphine’s smirk grew as she leaned in, stepping between his thighs. “And you’re not. Don’t think I didn’t notice you pouring your drink out.” She glanced at the plant. “You owe me a new aloe.”

“Again, add it to my tab.”

“Or,” she drawled, “you could pay me in another way.”

Aidon’s head leaned back against the cushion, his hands curling into fists on his thighs. He could smell the rose of her soap, could feel the warmth of her pressing so close to where his body truly wanted her.

“For what it’s worth,” Dauphine whispered, the strands of her hair tickling Aidon’s neck as she ducked her head down, her lips a breath away from his. “I never took a deal with your uncle.”

Aidon let his hand find her chin. Her skin was just as soft as he’d imagined. He let her drift closer. Closer.

His thumb pressed in , halting her lips just before his.

“Why would you think that’s worth anything?” he breathed.

Dauphine froze.

Silence stretched for a beat, but then she laughed, the sound a near vibration against his mouth. Cold rushed in as she pulled back, her hand skimming down his chest as she stepped away.

“Well played, General.” She grabbed the gin off the table, her movements slow and sensual. “But do let me know if you change your mind.”

Aidon raised a brow, his back still pressed firmly into the cushions as he watched her go.

“Fucking hells,” he swore under his breath.

He had thought himself evenly matched in this dance. He hated learning he was wrong.