His hand slid over mine, holding it in place on his thigh. Despite the emotions churning between us, the simple gesturefilled me with an unexpected calm. His magic caressed my skin as it dissipated, and my godhood swirled happily in response.
“This.” Yrselle tapped her finger at the blood pooling in my palm. “The war will be fought overthis. But this war will be unlike any we’ve ever seen. Those who are most certain they will win will find themselves among the first to die.”
I studied her carefully. “Does that mean you intend to fight?”
She smiled, and for the first time, there was no taunting in it, no malice, no amusement, no joy—just the bittersweet tightness of acceptance.
“My fate on that is sealed. The war has begun, and there’s not a soul on the continent who can escape it now.”
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
After dinner, we were ushered into a small room awash in the trembling glow of firelight. Hundreds of candles were nestled into nooks along the walls, trails of dripping wax cascading over every ledge. Smoky trails of sweet incense marbled the air, mixing with the twang of a stringed instrument from a musician that was nowhere to be found.
The Centenaries sprawled across plush chaises and nests of cushions scattered around the room. Silver platters of powders and pills were offered up alongside various liqueurs, and eyes glassy as sobriety slipped off to bed.
After I’d assured her—repeatedly, vehemently—that she was off-duty for the night, Alixe became a popular attraction. She was currently holding court in the center of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of lust-addled Centenaries scooting closer with every word she spoke.
Luther, on the other hand, had isolated himself the instant we walked in. He’d tucked into a corner, enrobed in shadows that seemed to fit his mood. Hagface briefly joined his side, where her overloud giggling turned my dial from annoyed to murderous, but whatever he said sent her sulking away moments later.
While the Queen had vanished to places unknown, Taran, Zalaric, and I had acquired our own pack of curious Centenaries.
“Is this what you do every night?” I asked them, and they nodded as one. “You don’t ever spend your evenings in the city?”
“Why would we do that?” one asked. “Everything we need is brought to the palace for us.”
“Unless we’re working, we have no reason to go into the city,” another added.
“But it’s so remarkable! The food stalls, the markets, all the things to see and do. There’s nothing like it on the continent. If I lived here, I’d be in the fighting pits every night.” My mischievous grin was met with a sea of blank stares.
One of them angled their head. “Why would we do that when we could be here?”
I looked at Zalaric. He raised his eyebrows with an amused smile and silently sipped on his drink.
For someone as sheltered as me, Umbros was mesmerizing. The diverse mix of cultures was exotic and fascinating, teeming with life. I could explore its secrets for decades and barely scratch the surface of what this realm had to offer. I couldn’t understand how these apex predators could have such power and access, yet isolate themselves so completely.
“This never gets boring?” I prodded. “Spending every night locked away up here, drinking and...” My eyes grew larger as I spied a trio of Centenaries across the room, naked and fucking on a daybed. “...everything else?”
“Boring?” another asked incredulously. “Her Majesty ensures our every desire is fulfilled. How could that be boring?”
“Sounds like a great deal to me,” Taran said brightly. I shot him a frown, and his grin vanished. “Er, not a great deal. A... terrible deal? Awful!”
“Your upbringing is showing, Your Majesty,” Zalaric teased. “It takes being denied what you want to understand the powerof wanting more. Satisfaction is the death of curiosity. And this group has been satisfied in abundance.”
“I don’t get everything I want,” Taran grumbled.
“No? Name one thing you’ve ever really, truly yearned for that the Corbois name couldn’t buy.”
Taran glared down into his glass. Zalaric laughed triumphantly, taking his silence as an admission of defeat, but I saw the shadow that passed over Taran’s face. The strife in his family was a painful rift no amount of money or power could resolve. I tucked my hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
“I understand,” a voice called out.
The group shifted to reveal Drusila, the mated Centenary. Now that she was standing, I could see the prominent swell of her growing belly beneath her dress—likely well into her third trimester, I’d guess.
“Her Majesty lets my mate live in the palace. He enjoyed all the luxuries at first, but lately...” She sighed, rubbing the mark on her wrist. “He’s from Meros. He’s a sailor at heart. He longs to explore the world, but as a Centenary, my place is here.”
“We warned you this would happen,” another said. “You should have mated with your own kind.”