Page 133 of Demon's Beauty

Alone, preferably, in case it gets ugly.

“She’s waiting in there,” Allie says when we reach the workshop door. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s alright.”

She looks as if she might say more, but must decide against it as she gives me a reassuring smile and heads back toward the center of the court.

I steady myself with one last deep breath and prepare to face the music.

Whatever Marianne has to say, and whoever sent her to say it, it can’t be good.

But I also know I’ve reached the end of the road for avoiding it, and there’s nothing to do but face up to what’s waiting for me.

Inside the workshop, I don’t find anyone in the first room, or the second, but spot a flash of flaming red hair lit by the sunshine streaming into the greenhouse.

I find Marianne there, examining a few of the curious demon realm plants Vayla grows.

“You’re back.”

“I am,” she says grimly, turning to face me. “I barely made it to the coven hall before I was summoned to the High Priestess’s office.”

“She found out you came to see me? How?”

Marianne snorts. “How does Esme know anything? I’m convinced she talks to the walls, with how little escapes her notice.”

I give my head a frustrated shake and gesture to a table in the middle of the room. We both sit, and I can’t pretend for a moment the high-handedness doesn’t irritate me.

“She’s not omnipotent.”

“Maybe not,” Marianne says. “But she is pissed off, and unfortunately you’re the target today.”

“How bad?”

“You know she’s never one to yell, but when she found out where you’ve been, she got that… look.”

Dread settles heavy in my stomach. “You told her?”

“What was I supposed to say?” She throws up her hands in surrender. “The priestesses were half-convinced you were kidnapped or something. The unflappable Soleil Pendergast disappearing on the eve of her Ascension? Why would anyone assume you left of your own volition?”

She’s not wrong, and I swallow hard around the lump of shame in my throat.

Of course no one would think for a second I ran away by choice.

Not me, the witch who’s never broken a single rule.

The dutiful apprentice who doesn’t make waves, doesn’t speak my mind, falls in line and does what I’m told like a good little witch.

Marianne pulls a parchment scroll from her pocket, sealed with the High Priestess’s sigil.

“Esme sent this with me to give to you,” Marianne says softly, handing it over. “I didn’t read it, but I think I can guess what it says.”

Not allowing myself the cowardice of hesitation, I break the scroll’s wax seal and read the three brief lines of elegant script.

A summons.

Formal and perfunctory.

I’m to return to the coven hall at once and speak with her if I have any hope of continuing on with my Ascension.