Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked #2)(27)

“Oh, pardon me.”

I glanced up from my spell work, my education abandoned, and closed the grimoire with a loud clap. A young woman—with curly jet-black hair, rich sepia-colored eyes, and brown skin—gave me a polite curtsy. Little animal skulls were fastened in her long hair, similar to the way I pinned flowers in mine. A deep russet-copper dress hugged each of her generous curves. She held a book on arboriculture, a surprising but interesting choice.

“You must be Emilia. The whole court is vastly intrigued by you. I’m Fauna.”

I gave her a tentative smile. I’d been counting on the fact that gossip would be as widely used here as it had been in the marketplace back home. “What kind of nasty rumors are circulating?”

“The usual. Your hair is made of serpents, your tongue of fire, and when you’re angry, you spit flames like the mighty ice dragons of Merciless Reach.” She grinned at my look of surprise. “Teasing. They’re too smart to start rumors while Prince Wrath is in residence. As his personal guest, you’re off limits. He’s made that very clear. Lord or lady of the Royal Demon Court, if your name is on anyone’s tongue, he will rip it out.”

“More like he’ll glare at them until they wither and die if they impede his mission.”

She gave me a curious look. “Actually, he was quite literal in his threat. Lord Makaden’s lucky he escaped with his intact. The prince promised the next time he speaks ill of you, his tongue will be spiked outside the throne room and stay there until it rots. Makaden’s prominent standing in the court is likely the only reason he’s not maimed now.”

I had to mentally remind myself to keep breathing as that image took shape. “Truly? Wrath threatened to rip out someone’s tongue?”

“It’s no idle threat. It was a warning to be heeded. His highness is not merciful with those who challenge him. This morning he brought a mountain down on Domitius, his lieutenant general.” Fauna’s smile faded. “They’re still searching through the rubble.”

I was at a loss for words. Anir only said he’d taken a mountain down. He didn’t mention anyone being crushed by it. Wrath was a prince of Hell. A general of war. One of the feared and mighty Seven. This news shouldn’t be surprising. I’d seen his violence before.

Still, it served as a reminder of who I was dealing with and where I was. I would need to play my game expertly when I went to any other courts.

The fact that Wrath had harmed a high-ranking officer shouldn’t have come as a shock. He’d probably taken his dark mood out on him after our fight this morning. If that was what he did after a small argument, I worried about who might feel his legendary wrath after our latest disagreement. Guilt sank its claws in deep, though logically I knew I had nothing to feel guilty about. He was solely responsible for his actions.

“Do you know why Wrath attacked him?”

“I believe Domitius suggested serving your still-beating heart to the soldiers. Though others claim he made lewd comments about your physical attributes. Something about tasting you to see if you were as sweet as your ‘ripe bosom’ suggested.”

“And the other? What did he say?”

“Lord Makaden inquired about his highness having any other rules governing tongues and how they applied to you.” She hesitated. “Neither one of them are considered to be very… humorous. His majesty was right to act swiftly. One rotten demonberry spoils the whole bushel.”

Charming. It was a delicate way of saying the demons would have acted on their statements. Or at least tried to. I might not be well versed with weapons or combat, but I did have some skill with a blade, thanks to time spent in the kitchen, breaking down carcasses. I knew vital areas to aim for and wouldn’t hesitate to stick someone who meant me harm.

I’d request a weapon the next time I saw Wrath. Surely he would grant me some means of protection. I did not want to rely on him or anyone else for my safety.

“Were either of them your lover?”

“Devils, no.” Fauna snorted. “You’ll meet the object of my pining soon enough. Tomorrow night, in fact.”

Suspicion pooled inside me along with dread. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

“Nothing too scandalous or terrifying. Only dinner with the most elite House Wrath members.” Her smile was full and bright. “Don’t be worried. Prince Wrath forbade ‘guttings at gatherings’ at least a century ago. Now the only blades we arm ourselves with are our sharp glares. We stare daggers over our wine and dream of sticking our enemies in flesh. Consider it practice for the upcoming feast.”

“I heard a fear is torn from the guest of honor. Can someone offer to stand in?” If so, I’d bargain with Wrath or the devil himself if I had to. “Any upper nobility, perhaps?”

“Even if it were allowed, which it may well be, no one would volunteer.” Fauna gave me a pitying look. “Definitely no prince of this realm. It would give the other royals too much power.” She held her book tightly. “You’re staying in the Crystal Wing, correct?”

“Maybe?” I lifted a shoulder. “There’s a lot of crystal in my chamber.”

“Wonderful. I’ll meet you before dinner and escort you down.”

Before I could agree or ask questions, she hurried out of the library.