Page 75 of Castle of Nevers and Nightmares

Emrys steps back as though dark magics were uttered, but I fear it’s much more sinister than that.

Interest.

Coppery-red eyes swing my way. He opens his palm to the Marquess, who hands him a folded paper. As Emrys reads, his black brow arches. His lips curve into a mortally wounding grin.

My heart races. I can’t decide if his smile is insanely attractive or just plain insane. His gaze flicks down to my chest, then back to my eyes.

“Careful, little moth,” he utters, stepping forward on silent feet. “You wouldn’t want me addicted to the song of your beating heart.”

In all the opponents I’ve faced, never have I seen the look in his eyes. I’ve seen cruelty, emptiness, hatred, fear, regret. Emrys drinks me up with an unquenchable thirst. There’s no doubt in my mind he revels in his job.

I back up, but there is nowhere to go except up the spiral staircase.

The door suddenly opens, and in walks a tired-looking Legion. He halts and calmly assesses the situation. Guilt flickers over Ignarius’s face. He said this was about public humiliation, but there’s no doubt Emrys is imagining how to bleed contrition from my skin. He barely blinks when Legion tugs the paper from his hand.

“I see calamity has been encouraged today.” The subtle rasp in Legion’s smooth voice hints at his restraint.

“It’s not like I went looking for trouble,” I hiss, but quickly add, “sir.”

“Hush now,” he clips, still reading. “The adults are talking.”

My brows raise, but something tells me to do as I’m told. I can’t explain it, but every cell in my body knows he won’t throw me to the wolves. Maybe it’s because they need me to win this tournament, maybe to heal Varen, or maybe to free them from Titania, who knows? But if I openly disrespect him, he’ll have to discipline me.

Done reading, Legion folds the orders and stares at Ignarius. “Your ineptitude is truly enchanting.”

“Pardon?” Ignarius blusters, his cheeks reddening.

“You heard me. No violation exists for which discipline is required.” Legion glances at me, almost with boredom. “She wears our House colors with permission and will do so from here on.”

“She attempted to kill my Shadow.”

“Upon your instructions.”

“I never instructed her to kill.”

“Yet you failed to forbid it.” Dismissing the Marquess, Legion faces Emrys. “Unless you wish to be present when the ladies-in-waiting arrive, I suggest you leave.”

Something like true fear flashes in Emrys’s eyes. He shoves past the Marquess and exits with lightning speed.

“You cannot change the rules as you see fit.” Steam wafts from Ignarius’s skin. “The Queen?—”

“Is slumbering,” Legion finishes curtly. “Do not cause trifles of unrest when we are fighting a war.”

“The Gentle Interlude is upon us.”

“Come now, Ignarius. Do you need me to spoon-feed you the answers?”

“I do not care for your tone, Knight Commander.”

“You know as well as I that the freeze does not erase danger to our citizens. Nightmares wreak havoc the instant we close our eyes.”

“Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be attending the attack?”

“The Knight Marshall is taking care of it.” Patience wears thin on Legion’s face. “I am yet to receive this week’s regional report from you.”

Silence.

Steam hisses from Ignarius’s nose. Peablossom arrives with two giggling females carrying bolts of fabric and what appear to be dressmaking supplies. One lady has yellow hair, the other a fine weave of silver. Each is dressed in a tailored, flattering gownof glitzy organza. The tinkling of restless charms continues in their sudden quiet.

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