Page 66 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“I didn’t tell him,” I answer. It wasn’t important, and I didn’t think his bringing up her dead mother would aid agreement.

“Tell me what?” Azaire asks again.

Wendy puts the book in her bag and looks at me like I am a culprit. “My mom’s dead,” she answers with her eyes on me. “Whoever gave you her name likely didn’t even know that this was in her study. And if they did, they didn’t think you’d find it.” She finally turns to Azaire. “They sent you on a fool’s errand.” She turns from both of us. “I’m going to get the glamour stripped.”

“Allow me,” I say. “I’ll take it to Calista.”

Wendy pulls her bag closer to her. “I can do it.”

Chapter 13

A Drink He Was Sharing

DESDEMONA

The Eunoia hold a gentle nature, the Nepenthe a vicious one. It is for that reason that neither is allowed in War Strategy.

— CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE FORMING OF VISNATUS BY REPRESENTATIVE LUTHENIA

Night has fallen, and I sneak up the steps in the dark.

When I get to the room, Lucian is leaning against the old table wearing the most ornate suit I’ve ever seen. Dark blue and beaded with silvers and moonstones. The kind of thing that could save a family like Damien’s from starving and freezing in the colder seasons.

A reminder of who he is.

I clear my throat. “A little much for this, don’t you think?” My eyes run down his suit, and I gesture around the dusty room.

“You should see what I have for you,” he says with a smirk. Then I notice a long piece of fabric next to him, the same kind that Aralia and my dresses came in. A bottle of red wine with glasses sits next to it.

Wine. That stuff is borderline mythical in the septic. There’s no way I could not drink it. There may not be another time the opportunity presents itself. I also like the idea of bragging to Damien.

“What’s this about?” I ask.

Lucian pushes away from the table and brings me the dress covered in a black slip. “Dancing in a dress isn’t the same as dancing in…” he eyes me up and down. The heat that floods my face is entirely irrational.

I grab the dress from him and mutter “Ever the prince” under my breath.

He only chuckles.

I walk to the next room over and am surprised when I pull out a green dress. Pieces of shimmering gold outline the bust and cover the sleeves. There are slits down the length of each side, leaving my skin mostly bare except for gold lace.

Gold—something I didn’t know of a month ago and can’t escape now. It’s quite heavy too.

I have a hard time believing he picked this out, let alone brought it up here for me. But I guess he thinks I’m a lady of Utul.

I struggle with the laces of the corset in the back for far too long before I have to admit to myself that I need help. When I walk back into the room holding up the bodice around my chest, he has two glasses full of red wine.

This feels very romantic. I wonder if it’s a joke. Maybe Leiholan told him I’d been watching him and they set this whole thing up to get a good laugh.

But it still feels like a kind of pinch me situation, even though I’d never admit it. A prince, a fancy dress, and this mythical red wine that no one had ever been able to even fathom having back home. It seems like the kind of dream I would’ve had as a child if I wasn’t preoccupied with the notion of surviving.

“I can’t tie the corset,” I say without meeting his eyes.

“I, myself, am much more adept at untying them.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “But I’ll give it a shot.”

Lucian walks around the room and behind me. His fingers lightly graze my skin, and I hate to say that my breath catches in my throat. I hope that he can’t tell, but the goosebumps on my arm are probably a dead giveaway.

“There,” he whispers close to my ear, and I spin around, fast, despite his hands still being on me. “You look…”

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