Page 33 of A Deal with the Shadow King

“Perhaps,” he says with a matching grin.

But I’m not that stupid—or desperate. If Seth Devine is searching for trouble, he’ll find it, and I won’t be caught in the crossfire.

I can’t afford to be patient anymore. I have to move Nell’s training along.

Demeter’s castle pales in comparison to the wonders of the new world. Its long hallways and textured tapestries lull me into a dream-like state, and the scents encrusted in the carpets remind me of a past long gone, when wine and laughter—and the occasional blood splatter—still governed the Shadow Court.

The princess’ room beckons, tucked at the end of a long hallway past the guards and staircase. Just as I’m about to walk down the length of the corridor to meet her, a high-pitched greeting stops me.

“Hello,” the girl proclaims from her slender teenage body.

Her limbs are still stuck in the midst of puberty, a few pimples partly hidden in her freckles.

A powdery blue aura pulses around her, half the strength of her sister’s, but I smile. Both of Emmaline Darcy’s daughters bear the shadow seed. How interesting.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Nell’s sister stares at my mask with guile, and I’m almost sure she can see the broken face behind it.

“Him?”

The teenager fluffs the bow at the front of her green dress like it constitutes a line of defense between us. “The Shadow King.”

Isn’t she clever?

I give her a shrug that’s half denial, half acknowledgement. “Nice to meet you.”

“Why do you wear a mask?” she asks.

“To hide my face.”

Her suspicious frown deepens. “And why do you need to hide your face?”

I lower my voice, amused by her confidence. “Why do you think?”

“You won’t change her, you know. She will change you.”

“I think you’re right.” I bet her sister told her all she could remember about her time in Faerie, which is a problem. “How old are you, Cecelia?”

“Fifteen.”

Only three years before she comes of age… I lick my lip. “I’ll make you a deal.”

The girl turns white as a sheet.

“If you promise to pretend not to know anything about me, the Shadow King, or Faerie, I will not erase your memories of me.”

With a solemn nod, she clenches her knuckles around her flimsy green bow.

“But you have to promise not to berate your sister with questions and accept that she cannot share everything with you anymore.”

She lifts her chin, the movement so like her sister that it loosens something deep inside me. “Why not?”

“Nice to meet you, Cecelia. See you again soon.” I melt with the shadows, knowing better than to argue with a fifteen-year-old. If Cecelia Darcy is half as headstrong as her sister, she will not let me have the last word.

Their mother gave life to two seeds… One magic baby is a chance, but two is a pattern. Someone up their bloodline must have had Fae blood—though I can’t fathom who.

The two princesses, along with all of Demeter’s seeds, will strengthen my kingdom, which makes winning the bet even more vital. Once all the citizens of Demeter are connected to the sceawere, the magic in this realm will be ours for the taking.

Nell’s bedroom holds no artifice, her religion preventing royal women from flaunting their riches. Hot embers crackle in the chimney, and I sit at the foot of her narrow bed. She’s a means to an end, and yet…

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