“I’ll admit I’m not much of a dancer,” he says, putting his hands up in mock defense, “but I’ve been told I’m quite the mediocre conversationalist.”

The last time I danced with a Langston, it didn’t end well for either of us. I steal a glance over my shoulder again, noting the conversation behind me is coming to a close. Perhaps attending the dance with Cornelius will send a message to Sin—one that clearly states I don’t expect our relationship to change as a result of what transpired between us. Surely the Black Art will want our… indiscretion… to remain between us. He needn’t worry I have any intention to illuminate the pleasures we shared in the shadows. Plus, if Cornelius turns out to be anything like his late brother, I’m happy to reunite them.

“I would be delighted, Mr. Langston,” I say, fanning out my dress and dipping my knees.

“Cornelius,” he corrects. “Excellent. It seems my return to Blackreach won’t be so miserable after all, even if I have to deal with this old man,” he chastises his father with a half-hearted grin and a bump of his elbow.

Behind us, the visitor bids his farewell, and a servant escorts him out, the heavy door of the Hall groaning shut behind them.

“I look forward to your company, Cornelius. Now if you two will excuse me, I must see if I can steal a moment of His Grace’s time.”

Hoping my throat doesn’t bob as I gulp down my anxiety, I turn and walk to the foot of the dais, feeling Sin’s eyes glued to me with every step. He sits far back in the cushioned throne with his legs spread wide and his hands clasped together at the fingertips in his lap, the embodiment of casual, but his expression is anything but relaxed.

I slip into a deep curtsy. “Your Grace. I know you are quite busy with arrangements, but I request a moment of your time. In private.”

He straightens in his seat and rests his elbows on the arms of his throne. “Gentlemen,” Sin calls to the Langstons who still linger in earshot. “Leave us for a moment.”

They each bow and make a swift exit without a word, and the few servants lining the walls follow after them without being asked. When the room is vacant aside from us, he turns his attention back to me, his eyes now back to their usual shade of green and smoldering with curiosity. He’s sitting taller now, but his legs are still splayed apart in front of him. A facetious smirk blooms across his face as if he knows it’s taking all I have to not drop my eyes and drink in the sight of him.

I resist the urge to scowl and instead straighten my spine and look him dead in the eye. “I am elated for the kingdom’s victory, but also disheartened events did not go as we predicted and planned for. I saw no sign of my sister yesterday, and now with Legion’s devastation, I am very worried what is to become of her.”

Lines split his forehead, and he rubs a hand across the bottom of his jaw. “Do you have any leads on where she may be?” he asks carefully.

“I’m certain they have her. I don’t know what long game they’re playing, but if someone is masking her location, that can only mean they don’t want me finding her before they’re ready. Theremustbe more of them still, there has to be.”

Because if there isn’t… I’m not willing to acknowledge the possibility Legion disposed of my sister somewhere, her body spelled with magic to never be found.

“I want to see Cathal. He must know where she is, and if he won’t talk to you, let me speak with him. I have learned how to control abilities I think might be most…persuasive.” Like shoving my dagger into his chest and slurping the blood from his thumping heart.

“I can assure you I have a surplus of tricks up my sleeve too. But with Legion gone, I have no use wasting resources to keep him alive anymore. Other than for my own personal gratification in watching him suffer,” he adds darkly.

“No! Please… no. Not as long as Cosmina is missing. We need to find her first, then I don’t care what you do with him. But he may be the only person alive that knows where she is.”

He exhales sharply and idly scratches the underside of his chin. “Wren…”

“I pledged to fight alongside you, and I upheld that promise. And now I’maskingyou to help me find her. As soon as I do, we’ll leave, and you can be rid of me for good.”

His lips turn down at that comment, but he doesn’t respond.

“Please, Singard. Don’t make me beg.”

“As much as I’d like to see you kneeling before me again, love, I wouldn’t want you to mess up that pretty little dress. Give me a few days. I leave for the city in the morning to oversee preparations, but I’ll be back at the end of the week to host a celebratory ball here. We will convene then.”

“I worry we don’t have that kind of time,” I press.

“The end of the week,” he repeats, sharper now.

“Fine.End of the bloody week.”

“You’re welcome to attend the ball, of course. I promise I won’t force you to dance with anyone this time, except maybe me. That is, if you’re feeling up to walking by then.” He raises an eyebrow at me, accentuating that lazy, feral grin he’s perfected, and Ihatethe burn it instills low in my stomach. My body betraying me.

“I’ll see if Cornelius is willing to let go of me long enough to spare you a dance,” I say in a tone as bitter as it is sweet.

The smirk vanishes from his mouth, and I can’t help my cheeks from swelling with amusement as the muscles along his jawline feather slightly.

And as quickly as it appeared, I wipe the smug smile from my face. “I look forward to our continued arrangement, Your Grace. But if you cannot offer me an agreeable plan by the end of the week, then I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave. Though, I do think it is in your best interest to keep the kingdom in my good graces.”

He chuckles with dark amusement. “Tell me, little witch, do you intend on killing all your enemies now, or just the ones I ask you to?”