“I have my moments, your highness.”
His laugh was full and rich.
“Explains how you’ve captured this one’s attention.” He leaned in and spoke in a mock whisper, his tone serious, as if sharing a grave secret. “Wrath has an unquenchable taste for fury. Though he never overindulges in it. Much to everyone’s dismay.” Wrath did not return his brother’s smile, which only succeeded in delighting the prince of this circle more. “Perhaps you will surprise us all, dear brother. This may be the year you let loose after all. Live down to our expectations. Gorge yourself on some fun for once.”
“Be grateful I limit my idea of fun, brother.”
“Well, the hunt begins at dawn, so you can saddle up a hell horse and unleash your warrior spirit then.” He glanced to me, troublesome smirk in place. “You, too, Lady Emilia. Let us see if you’re equally inspired by bloodlust.”
“I don’t ride.”
“No?” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Then I shall stay and keep you company. While they’re getting into trouble, I’m sure we can find some of our own.”
Whatever levity Gluttony had been feeling was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy glare. I followed the direction of his gaze, surprised to find the object of his loathing was a beautiful, prim noblewoman. Her pale blue hair was coiffed in the style of proper English ladies and her elegant dress buttoned up to her neck.
She wore kidskin gloves that ended past her elbows and an expression of revulsion as she spied the host, her gaze cutting from across the room. She leaned next to her companion and whispered something that sent the other noblewoman tittering.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Gluttony’s mood darkened further. “There’s a party crasher in our midst.”
Without uttering another word, Gluttony strode off toward the giggling ladies.
I turned to Wrath. “What was that about?”
“She’s a journalist from the Shifting Isles. And she rarely has anything flattering to say about the royals in this realm. She’s been particularly vicious with Gluttony.”
I thought back to the lovers on the table. “She doesn’t enjoy his displays of overindulgence, I take it.”
“On the contrary.” Wrath’s mouth edged up on one side. “She called his last gathering ‘perfectly ordinary and utterly contrived. A predictable, uninspired evening.’”
“I cannot believe you memorized that.”
“My brother quoted it so often, it stuck. Gluttony was furious. He has since thrown the most lavish, over-the-top, debauched parties he can.”
“He wants her to eat her words.”
“Amongst other things, no doubt.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Hate is a powerful aphrodisiac for some.”
“Indeed. It is.” Wrath’s attention briefly fell to my lips. “Would you like to tour the pleasure gardens or settle into your rooms?”
I recalled what Fauna had said about the twilight gardens and my stomach did a nervous flip. If Wrath and I snuck off now, I would miss the opportunity to meet the rest of his family.
Not to mention, I wasn’t sure being alone with him where seduction was being served for public consumption was a wise idea.
As if he’d plucked the thought from my mind, he added quietly, “Pride will make his grand entrance at the masked ball tomorrow. Sloth will slip in right before the fear ceremony. Greed and Envy will arrive fashionably late this evening.”
“And Lust?”
“I imagine he’s here and is indulging. While he tends to siphon feelings of happiness to enhance his power, he does participate in carnal temptations when they’re offered to him. These parties tend to feed his sin on multiple levels.”
I glanced toward the veranda, where a set of doors were thrown open and a cold breeze blew snowflakes in from the patio beyond. Tiny flickering silver orbs floated in the darkness.
Going to my bedchamber was the best decision, yet I found myself saying, “Let’s take a quick stroll through the garden.”
Unsurprisingly, Gluttony’s idea of a pleasure garden was quite literal. We walked past lovers barely hidden in the shadows, the sounds of their bare skin slapping against each other and breathy moans created a strangely haunting symphony. I did my best to keep my attention fixed on the torchlit path in front of us, not daring to seek out writhing shadows near the hedges.
Wrath, as always, seemed unaffected.
“Have you toured the gardens before?” I immediately wished I hadn’t asked.
“Yes.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “I always survey the grounds to ensure there’s no hidden threat.”
Almost on command, a woman screamed her lover’s name.
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “It certainly sounds as if there’s danger here.”
“Hidden armies, unwelcome guests, clandestine meetings between scheming Houses.” Wrath leaned close and dropped his voice. “A lot can happen in the dark, my lady.”
“He’s not wrong.” The Prince of Lust’s grin bordered on feline as he stepped into our path and stretched his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of golden skin above his trousers. His charcoal eyes drank me in, then spit me out with disinterest. “Hello again, little darling.”
“Lust.” Despite the inner voice urging me to run, I held my ground. All of my senses heightened as I waited for that first lick of his soul-crushing influence. “I would say it’s nice to see you again, but…”
I lifted a shoulder, letting the rest go unsaid.
“I will have to remedy that. Later.” He turned to his brother. There was no anger or glint of retribution in his expression. As far as I was aware, the last time they saw each other, Wrath had stuck a dagger in his chest. “I need a word. Privately.”
Wrath hesitated before nodding once. He turned to me. “I’ll stop by your chamber later. Unless you’d like me to escort you there now.”
“No.” I shook my head, grateful for the excuse to leave Lust and his troublesome influence. “I’m sure I’ll find my own way back.”
Wrath nodded, but didn’t move to follow his brother. I felt his gaze on me until I turned the corner. Halfway down the next path, a servant appeared. Wrath, no doubt, had managed to arrange our meeting. “Lady Emilia, if you’ll follow me. I can show you to your chambers.”
After settling into my well-appointed room—all cobalt blue, silver, and dripping in an overabundance of luxury—I waited, perched on the edge of my bed, for what felt like hours. Straining to hear Wrath’s light knock at my door.
It never came.
At first I worried Lust had struck him, vengeance for what had occurred between them in Palermo. Then a new worry slipped in. We were staying in a House filled with debauchery. If Wrath hadn’t made it to his bed, I wondered if that meant he’d tumbled into someone else’s.
SilverFrost Garden,
southeast tower, dawn.
Wear something to die for.
And come masked.
I stared down at the note that arrived well past midnight. Cobalt blue paper inked with platinum—the parchment thick and luxurious.