Page 175 of Heat of the Everflame

And what would her Centenaries do if they found out?

“Knock, knock,” she cooed, her tone light but laced with menace.

After her stunt with the flameroot, the temptation to expose her weakness was strong. Reluctantly, I withdrew my godhood. It lingered at the edges, still poised to strike, not trusting her any more than I did.

Her posture eased. “You speak the truth,” she said matter-of-factly. “You would make Luther the King.” Her lips pressed to a thin line. “An interesting choice.”

“I would choose Diem,” Alixe said. “The Blessed Mother chose her. Who am I to decide differently?”

Luther grunted in agreement.

Yrselle gave a low, husky laugh and lifted her glass high. “We have our first liar of the night.”

The Centenaries roared their satisfaction and applauded, tipping their heads back to drink.

Alixe blanched. “It’s not a lie.”

“It isn’t? You don’t think Luther is more well-known, more respected? More levelheaded and capable of leading an army in wartime?” Yrselle cocked her head. “You don’t thinkyouare, too?”

“I... Luther would be a fine King, and I would try my best, but Diem, she... she’s proven that—”

“It’s not whether you think she can do the job,” Symond interrupted. “It’s whether you think she can do it better than the rest of you.” He swirled his glass. “And you, High General, clearly do not.”

Alixe shrank into her chair.

“It’s fine,” I told her. “I understand.” I smiled, trying to be reassuring, though I couldn’t deny her answer had stung. Not because she was wrong—because she was right, and I knew it.

“I choose Queenie,” Taran drawled. “Lu never wanted the Crown anyway, and she makes my father miserable.”

“Truth,” Yrselle declared.

“Thanks,” I said dryly.

“Plus Queenie’s a better nickname than Kingy.” His nose scrunched. “Kingy Kingy Kingy. See? It’s all wrong.”

“I have a question,” Hagface chimed in. “Who in this room do you most wish to have in your bed?”

A Centenary beside her rolled their eyes. “That’s a terrible question. Their answers are obvious.” They nodded to Luther. “Especially for him.”

Yrselle lifted an eyebrow at Luther. “Well?”

“There’s only one person I desire in my bed.” He glanced at me. “And she should know who she is.”

“I think we all know who she is,” someone quipped, followed by a wave of snickers.

My cheeks turned pink. The heat of it mixed with the liquor in my blood, prodding mischievously at my temper. How shouldI know anything, when he continued to push me away?

I rolled back my shoulders. “The only man I’ll welcome in bed is a man who desires me—andwho wants me there. As I’ve come to learn, those can be two different things.”

“I volunteer,” Symond drawled.

Shrugging, I raised my glass to him. “I suppose we’ll see where the night takes us.”

A pulse of energy exploded through the room with menacing force. Some jolted back in their chairs, others shuddering as the ferocious presence rumbled over their skin.

Though my hand wobbled at its impact, I didn’t have to guess who caused it. I knew that aura more intimately than any other.

“I don’t think the Prince liked Her Majesty’s answer,” Symond teased with delight.

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