Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked #2)(66)



“All hail the queen of changing topics.” He offered a dramatic bow. “Is there a question in there, or are you looking for confirmation?”

“I know I’m not his first choice in a wife,” I hedged, still thinking of the duke’s daughter, “but I’d like to know if there was someone he was interested in before… everything.”

The teasing light left Anir’s face. “It’s not my business or my place to share his story.”

“I’m not asking you to. I only want to know if there was someone else.”

“Would it change anything if there was?”

I thought about it. My curiosity was at play, for certain, but it would change matters. I would refuse the bond and have our fate decided by the council of three Wrath had mentioned.

If he loved someone, well, that would both make me uncomfortable and also clear my way to pursuing Pride. Which was still the surest path to achieving my goal of vengeance.

Unless, of course, I beat Envy to finding the Temptation Key and Triple Moon Mirror. And if a demon prince couldn’t sense the spelled wine or food, I might be able to garner truth that way. But I’d need to practice on a prince of Hell, and one was still notably absent, curse him.

I returned to the matter at hand. I would not want to be tied together in a loveless marriage with Wrath if he would always be pining for someone else.

“Yes. It would. It would change a lot.”

“Careful.” A low voice drawled from behind me. “Or I might think you’d actually like to marry me.”





SEVENTEEN


I closed my eyes and silently swore before glowering at Anir. “You are truly the worst.”

“I bet seven devil coins you feel different after your next lesson.” The traitor shot me a devious grin. “Don’t forget your purse tomorrow, Lady Em.”

“Lock the door on your way out.”

Wrath’s voice was much too close. I felt his breath near the base of my neck, and I briefly considered rushing to the door or inventing a spell to have the floor swallow me whole. Instead, I squared my shoulders and slowly turned around. His focus was entirely on the human. Anir lost a bit of his playful swagger, replacing it with a seriousness I hadn’t seen in him since the night Lord Makaden lost his tongue.

“No one is to enter this room until I give the signal that our training is over. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Anir offered me a polite bow and quickly made for the exit. Coward. I smiled to myself. Speaking of cowards, pretending the demon prince wasn’t there, and hadn’t overheard something I never meant him to hear, would not serve my bid for being fearless, either.

I forced myself to meet Wrath’s imposing stare and hid my surprise as I assessed my newest opponent. He wasn’t dressed entirely in black today; he wore a brilliant white shirt and tailcoat. I took in his huge frame, the cold set to his features, and swallowed hard. He was not in a pleasant mood. I decided now was not the time for bravery. A clever schemer understood the art of retreat. Wrath was up to no good and I wanted no part in discovering how bad he could be.

“I don’t think your training is necessary. Anir was doing an exceptional job.”

A smile spread across the prince’s face, though there was no hint of mirth to be found in it. The look confirmed that remaining around for this training was a terrible idea. I took a step back and something dangerous sparked in Wrath’s eyes.

“He doesn’t possess the skills needed for this lesson.”

“Oh, well, I have a prior engagement. We’ll have to reschedule.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”

“Do you recall the bargain we struck in my bedchamber?”

I went to nod when an immense wave of lethargy washed over me, and I suddenly found my head too heavy to move. Wrath’s intense focus homed in on my emotional and physical shift. There was no concern present in his expression, only a hard edge that should have worried me.

And it would have, if I wasn’t in such a horrid state of lassitude.

I couldn’t bring myself to care, or stand, apparently. My legs folded of their own volition and I sank to the ground, crashing in a heap of tangled limbs. My cheek pressed into the thick mat, the fibers scratching and uncomfortable. Still, I didn’t so much as roll over to get comfortable. I didn’t even blink. To my horror, a dribble of saliva worked its way out of the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t care less.

In fact, I found I really didn’t much care for anything. Not even the gleam of victory flashing in Wrath’s eyes as he towered over me.

He strolled around my prone form. “Look at me, Emilia.”

I wanted to, almost more than anything, but energy was too hard to come by. I had nothing left in my reserves to spare. My eyelids drifted shut instead. Despite my undignified position, laying sprawled on the floor, drooling, I couldn’t muster the resolve to—

The slothful feeling snapped, as if it had never been. Anger, all-consuming and red-hot, brought me to my feet a breath later. Rage had my body trembling. Or perhaps it was wrath.

I flung myself at the demon. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Kill? I’m sure you mean kiss.”

Wrath chuckled at my sudden change in temper, then, before I could touch him, the atmosphere once again abruptly shifted. Suddenly, I was no longer trying to get my hands around his throat; I was clawing him closer, wrapping my legs and arms around his body. I wanted him.

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