Page 46 of These Vile Hearts

Silence dances around us like the drunken dryads at last night’s masque. But my thoughts are louder than Maddox’s feet finding every stray twig to snap. Before I made this pact, romancing those who craved danger was almost effortless. I’m the cursed prince. Dark, brooding, and menacing. My labels pulled ephemeral lovers in with hardly any exertion on my part. But this pact, laced with a netting of delicate lies, changed everything.

Every move is crucial. Every word is one I can’t take back. A rose or dagger thrown at her empty heart, and I won’t know which until I’ve said it. My mouth opens to speak, then closes, again and again. A sparrow choking on a seed.

“Did you sleep well last night?” I ask finally. I can practically hear Tamarind rolling his eyes behind me.

Maddox guffaws. “Did you know, on the night of the CrownMasquerade at least, that arborfae and dryads like to romp around naked and sing ballads on the Magesté stage after the show is over?”

I crack a grin. “Do they?”

“And did you know that my new room happens to be located directly beneath the stage?”

A laugh escapes my throat without my permission. “So you’re saying you slept wonderfully?”

“Best sleep of my life. What’s even better is that I haven’t had coffee in days. That really helps.”

What is it with mortals and their coffee? “Dryads don’t drink much of that, I’m afraid. Personally, I prefer wine in the mornings.”

At my mention of wine, her mouth tightens. “Mmm. Well, I’m going to have to figure something out. Uncaffeinated Maddox is not a pleasant thing to endure. I’ll likely scare away all the visitors tonight.”

I should probably ask her some questions like I care, I suppose.

“And how are you feeling about tonight? Anxious? Frightened?”

She snorts. “Your obsession with me becoming frightened is unnerving.”

“Your supposed lack of fear is unnerving.”

We reach the fork in the wooden road leading toward either the Nightshade District or the citadel.

“Shall I call for a samara?”

“No, I’ll walk.”

“Let me accompany you to Magesté, then.”

“Thanks, but I can make my own way back from here.”

“Don’t let the light of the morning deceive you,” I tell her. “The most dangerous creatures in this forest roam in the daylight, and few actually look like monsters.”

She stares pointedly at me, lifting the edge of her dress up her speckled thigh, revealing a dagger tied there with leather cord. Unwelcome warmth spreads through me, sinking low in my belly at thesight, but I shrug it away. This viper may have voluptuous thighs begging to be bitten, but it doesn’t make her any less of a monster.

Tamarind catches my face and hides an amused grin with a cough. He knows my type. Bastard.

She releases the skirt, and I track the material as it slides down her skin like clumsy hands. “I can handle myself.”

There are monstrous fae in these woods who would swallow her whole, blade and all. Though I imagine she would somehow find a way to cut herself free. “I have no doubt about that.” I offer her a shallow bow. “Until tonight, then, Oleander.”

“No need to check up on me. I’m not going to run away.”

“You’re forgetting that you’re a guest inmydistrict.”

Gesturing toward the citadel, where the Sovereign Tree towers within, she says, “I thoughtthiswas your district.”

“I am the king. Every district is my district. But…living in a place doesn’t make it a home.”

At these words, something shifts in her expression, the faintest glint of some deeply rooted pain. A trick of the light, I’m sure. “Until tonight, then, Your Majesty.”

I watch her walk away, and Tamarind appears at my side. “You bowed to her.”