Page 158 of Heat of the Everflame

“He’s a real ray of sunshine,” Symond quipped. “I can see why you’re so in love.”

My heart tripped and tumbled across the floor. “Love? I... I haven’t—”

He grinned. “No? Hmm. My mistake.”

I swallowed down the massive lump that had formed in my throat. “Leave him alone. We’ve been through a lot the past few days—which you very well know.”

“But I’m having so much fun.”

I shot him a scowl. “How did you get so...”

He glanced back to confirm Luther was out of sight, then pulled me closer. “So charming? So handsome?”

“So gleeful at other people’s misery.”

His smile tightened. “I’m a Centenary. We can read each other’s minds, and we’re allowed to be as wicked as we want. In a world like that, you strike first or you get struck.”

“You canallread each other’s minds?”

“The strongest can shield their thoughts from the weakest, but most of us are equally matched.”

“What about the Queen?”

“No one can breach her shield. Not that anyone would dare try.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “It must be difficult never having any privacy, even in your own mind.”

“On the contrary. It’s quite nice never having to lie.” He leaned his face to mine. “Unlike your Prince,brutal honestyis all I know.”

I gave him a withering glance, though I couldn’t deny there was something liberating about the idea of living without secrets and never having to hide any part of who you were.

Symond turned me down another hallway, this one notably more extravagant. “We have to make one small stop.”

“I thought the Queen waited for no one?”

“She doesn’t.” He eyed me head-to-toe. “But she also insists on proper dress.”

“What’s wrong with my—”

I paused and looked down. My stolen linen clothing was wrinkled and stained with flecks of blood, the hems dusted with dried mud. Holes dotted my scarf from where I’d partially burned through it in Ignios.

“You’re a Queen,” Symond chided. “Best to look like one.”

My cheeks flushed. In so many ways, I was still a poor-born mortal at heart. I had not yet grown used to the idea that anyone cared how I looked.

Symond led me through a series of corridors to a lamp-lit room lined with gowns and glittering baubles.

“What is this?” I asked, gazing around in awe.

“Her Majesty’s wardrobe.”

I nearly choked. “Are you mad? I can’t take her clothing.”

“It’s better than insulting her by showing up in rags.”

“You’re trying to get me killed, aren’t you?”

He laughed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Believe me, you don’t get to my position without learning what the Queen will and won’t tolerate.”

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