Page 51 of A Heart Disguised 1

Their banter continued, drawing laughter from the lieutenants. Meanwhile, Duke Darius approached me, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. He took my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “My lady,” he murmured, “I trust the final fitting went well?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I recalled the more… intimate garments. “It was… illuminating, Your Grace,” I managed, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt.

Before Duke Darius could respond, the sound of a cane tapping against stone announced a new arrival. An ancient demon hobbled into the room, his long white beard nearly touching the ground.

“Ah, Master Grimoire,” the duke said, turning to greet the newcomer. “Allow me to introduce my bride-to-be, Lady Robin.”

Master Grimoire peered at me, his rheumy eyes narrowing as he studied my face. “Well, well,” he croaked, “what a remarkably beautiful little demoness you are! No wonder you’ve caught our Darius’ undivided attention.” He leaned in closer, squinting. “Though I must say, your horns are so small I can scarcely see them. Are you quite sure you’re full-grown, my dear?”

The room erupted in laughter, and I felt my face burning hotter than ever. Duke Darius’ lips twitched with barely suppressed mirth.

“I assure you, Master Grimoire,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady, “any horns I possess are purely metaphorical.”

This elicited another round of chuckles, and even the duke couldn’t contain his laughter this time.

“Metaphorical horns!” Master Grimoire exclaimed. “Well, I never! Darius, my boy, you’ve certainly found yourself a clever one. Keep her close, or she might just outsmart you yet!”

As the laughter subsided, I caught Caelum’s eye. He offered me a sympathetic smile, no doubt recognizing a kindred spiritin the art of enduring teasing. It seemed that in this world of demons, a sharp wit might be my best defense after all.

15

Robin

Iawoke with a start, my heart pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, mocking me with its cheerful glow. Sleep, that fickle mistress, had abandoned me to the wolves of anxiety all night long.

As I lay there, tangled in silk sheets that felt more like a spider’s web, my mind raced through a parade of escape plans, each more preposterous than the last. Perhaps I could fashion a rope from bed linens and rappel down the castle walls like some dashing rogue from a penny dreadful. Or maybe I could disguise myself as a servant, slipping away in the chaos of wedding preparations. My personal favorite involved befriending a flock of pigeons, training them in secret to carry me away to freedom. I’d be the talk of Aethoria—the Bride Who Flew the Coop.

I snorted at my own absurdity. “Oh, Robin,” I muttered to myself, “you’ve become as bad as Meredith with her outlandish tales. What’s next? Convincing the duke you’re a witch who’ll turn him into a toad on the wedding night?”

Sitting up, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror across the room. My hair looked like a bird’s nest after a particularly violent storm, and the dark circles under my eyes suggested I’dgone ten rounds with a nocturnal demon. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t far from the truth.

I pulled Russet into my lap, burying my face in his warm fur. “What am I to do, old friend?” I whispered. Fluffy, curled at the foot of the bed, tilted his head, his ember eyes glowing with what I could swear was amusement.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I scolded the puppy. “I don’t suppose you have any bright ideas on how to evade the wedding night? No? Didn’t think so.”

A flutter of wings drew my attention to the windowsill, where Starling perched, watching me with those unnervingly intelligent eyes. “And what about you, little one?” I asked, my lips quirking into a rueful smile. “Any sage avian advice on how to survive this day? No? Just going to sit there and look pretty, are you?”

Starling tilted her head, her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that seemed almost… sympathetic? I shook my head, chuckling softly at my own folly. “Look at me, seeking counsel from a bird. Next, I’ll be asking Fluffy to officiate the ceremony.”

The door suddenly burst open with such force I half expected to see the duke himself. Instead, there stood Meredith, beaming like she’d just won the royal lottery.

“Rise and shine, my little lovebird!” she trilled, her voice so chipper it made my teeth ache. “It’s your wedding day!”

I gaped at her, wondering if perhaps I’d woken up in some bizarre alternate reality. “Meredith?” I ventured cautiously. “Are you feeling quite alright? What happened toBeware the demon lordandWe must flee before he devours your innocence?”

She waved off my concerns like pesky flies. “Oh, pishposh! That was yesterday’s news. Today, we make you a duchess!”

Before I could formulate a response, I was unceremoniously hauled from my bed and whisked to the bathroom. “Time is of the essence!” Meredith declared, dunking me into the hot springtub with all the gentleness of a farmhand tossing a sack of potatoes.

“Meredith!” I spluttered, spitting out water. “Have you gone mad? Or have I?”

“Hush now,” she said, attacking my hair with scented soap. “Madame Elodie will be here soon with her army of beautifiers. We can’t have you looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward, can we?”

As she scrubbed me within an inch of my life, I couldn’t help but marvel at her transformation. Gone was the woman who’d spun wild tales of demon appetites and dark omens. In her place was a beaming, maternal figure, determined to see her charge wed in style.

“There,” she said, finally releasing me from her sudsy clutches. “You smell like a spring meadow. The duke won’t be able to resist you!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered, but Meredith was already bustling about, laying out towels and robes.

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