Page 78 of A Kingdom of Pleasure and Torment

The sylphs appear from behind the dais, bearing dripping, severed tentacles and the pallid head of the cephalopire. Its jaw gapes. All of its teeth have been pulled.

Relief mixes with fear at the sight of it. The smell of blood and rot and the foul dampness of the monster’s cell which still clings to its mutilated corpse, causes the courtiers around me to cover their noses. I cannot. I’m frozen in fear at the sight of the monster. The chatter and alarm that surround me fade to a high, ringing noise in my ears.

Only Arcus’s voice cuts through. He is red-faced with his rage. “I will find who destroyed my property, and you will suffer exactly as it suffered before it died!”

As he stalks from the throne room, I spot Kathras in the crowd. His eyes meet mine before he turns and leaves, too.

“I promised you that you would never suffer that terror at my father’s hands again. I do not break my promises, Cenere.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

I don’t know why I seek out Kathras. It feels as though I’m bringing danger to him, as if every eye in the palace is upon me. For the first time, though, I am not the object of fascination. Everyone is on edge, picturing their own heads with gaping, toothless mouths.

What do I mean to say to Kathras? What can I say? That he’s angered his father? He knows that already, even if his father hasn’t yet deduced who is responsible for the cephalopire’s death. Am I going to shame him for killing the creature? I wanted it dead.

And yet, by killing it, Kathras has only increased the danger I’m in. Arcus is unpredictable at the best of times. Now, I can become a convenient outlet for his rage. It’s a thing I could have endured before, when it felt like I was working toward a purpose. Now, the king’s cruelty can break me.

I find a door and go through it, trusting that the palace will bring me to the place I intend to go. The place where I will find Kathras.

The Court of Pleasure and Torment boasts an impressive library. The subjects of the books, I am told, are mostly prurient tales and instructions on interesting things to get up to with one or more partners. And that knowledge has filled a hall so long and so tall, I cannot see to the end of it, nor can I see all the way to the top of the shelves. The ceiling vanishes into darkness high above the towering windows, which light only the first few floors.

Marble statues of faeries and other creatures in erotic repose are arranged in a single line down the center of the library. As I pass two human women engaged in frozen congress, one stone hand lazily reaches for me. I gasp and jump back, and the statue, looking disappointed, returns to its original position.

“You can join them,” Kathras says from somewhere nearby. “Any of them at all. There’s a centaur further down who particularly enjoys—”

“No, thank you, Your Highness,” I say, turning around to find him.

He’s reclined on a chaise that’s floating near the second level, a book in his hand.

“Are we alone?” I ask, wondering if that’s the meaning for his cold reception and demeanor. The Kathras I was with in the faery baths would not have spoken so crudely to me. It must be a facade.

The chaise slowly lowers, and he puts his book down with a sigh of annoyance. “We are never alone. But no, there is no one in this room.”

I assume he’s cautioning me about how I use my words now. I need just one. “Why?”

“I told you. I keep my promises,” he says with a shrug. “Is that all?”

It is, but I’m wounded at this change in him. While I know we can’t be as open with each other as we were in the privacy of the baths, and while I know what passed between us can never be again, his quick dismissal wounds me.

“How can you be so callous?” I ask, forgetting to mind my tongue. “After last night? And now this? How can you treat me as if I’m a nuisance?”

He rises and advances on me, backing me into the stone arms of a statue, which hold me fast. I cannot fight stone, so I don’t try. I also don’t wish to give Kathras the satisfaction of my fear. He should have had his fill of it in the maze.

“You forget yourself, human. You’re speaking to a prince.” He stands too close, looms his incredible height over me to stare into my eyes. “I will forgive this slight once.”

“And then what, Your Highness?” I ask and curse my temper. I’m trying to seduce his father and his brother to steal the throne that rightfully belongs to Kathras. I know that his death is a part of Luthian’s plan, and yet I didn’t say a word of it to him. I could now, and still I do not, bound to my agreement and what I am beginning to view as my only true purpose.

My only true purpose involves Kathras’s death.

And I have the gall to demand, what? Affection?

“I have more than proven my loyalty to you,” he snarls. “And my feelings.”

“Feelings that you now deny.” It isn’t as if he can declare love for me openly. He might not even feel it. Kindness in a time of sorrow doesn’t require romantic passion.

Slaying a monster does.

“You know I must deny them,” he says, but he leans closer to me, his gaze falling to my mouth. “A word of advice, Cenere. It’s easier to not have those feelings if they can’t be acted upon.”

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