Page 29 of Thief of Souls
I don’t like any of this.
An emissary from the Court of Storms would have been bad enough, but my former nemesis?
“What did you learn tonight?” he asks.
“Malechus knew Soraya to look at. He took one look at my face and I would swear he recognized me.”
My glamor’s good, but the more changes you make, the more magic you need to wield. It’s easier to make subtle shifts here and there and to restrict them to elements that don’t move very often. My mouth remains untouched along with my brows. My cheeks are a little softer, my eyes not quite as blue, and my hairline lacks its distinctive peak.
All in all, you wouldn’t pick my face out of a crowd of beautiful women. I’ve designed this face to be pretty but unmemorable.
And Soraya taught me the art of glamor.
“You’re sure he’s never seen you before?”
“Never.” And Angmar’s reward poster won’t be circulated this widely.
Has Ismena seen it? Has she put two and two together?
I feel like I need to get a good look at this reward poster. When I stole the trident from her brother, I lured him back to his bedroom with a smile and a wink, drugged him the second we got to his rooms, and then left him snoring on the floor, naked. It’s not my fault he was so quick to shed his clothes that half the royal guard saw his flaccid cock.
Since I was playing at the seduction game, I would have emphasized my features with glamor. Soft mouth. Long lashes. Curves that would have made a man trip over his tongue. I’m fairly certain I’d been wearing a long, blonde wig, with golden curls the color of wheat, and a pink gown that was cut to reveal slashes of skin in strategic places.
I doubt anyone looking at the poster would see the resemblance to me, but the concern has to be noted. And Ismena is the one fae who might be able to knock a candle into all of my plans and set them on fire.
“Tell me about your sister,” Keir says.
I curl my fingers around the wine and kick off my shoes with a small groan.Bliss. Scrunching and flexing my toes, I fist handfuls of the skirt that has suddenly tumbled around my feet, and venture to the fireplace. “Why?”
“Why not?” He sinks into his chair, one boot hooked up on his opposite knee. For some reason, he’s looking at my toes. “She did try to kill me, after all.”
“Was this before or after she kissed you?”
Keir’s eyes narrow. “You know I thought she was you.” He pauses, those dragon eyes turning to full smolder. “And I’m fairly certain your interest in me was a ruse.”
Fairly certain? As in, he’s not entirely certain?
“Why was she sent here? To this court?” he demands.
There’s something in his voice that stirs the magic within me. I want to answer him. It’s an urge that bubbles up my throat, where I trap it behind my teeth. He may own my services for a year and a day, but he has no claim on my secrets.
“I don’t know. The wraith king said Malechus had something that belonged to him,” I say instead.
Technically… true. My father does believe the horn is his for the taking.
And Soraya’s been here for nearly three weeks, ingratiating herself within the court as per protocol. The wedding was announced far and wide, and two days later she was working her way inside the court.
“If you want to steal something, you send a thief.” Keir stretches his arm along the back of the chair, but he doesn’t force the magic. “Your sister is not a thief. You are. So why did he send her and not you?”
The thought occurred to me too.
“Maybe because he was too busy drowning me for my failure in cutting your heart from your chest”dies on the tip of my tongue.
I don’t share such secrets.
But it also doesn’t feel like the truth.
“Cauldron’s piss,” I whisper. He lied to me. My father looked me in the eye and lied. “Soraya wasn’t sent here to retrieve something. She was sent here to kill someone.”
