Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(107)

“Rise,” Wrath said. “Tonight we celebrate Her Majesty Queen Emilia. Thank you to my brother, the Prince of Lust, for graciously hosting.”

A string quartet struck up a tune, and revelers returned to their merriment.

The ballroom was unlike the crude showing of lust outside; this chamber was tasteful sensuality on every level. From the deep plum shade of the brocade wallpaper to the velvet and silk fabrics meant to bring tactile pleasure, it was easy to identify every aspect of his sin’s influence. Overstuffed pillows were piled in the corners, welcoming lords and ladies of this circle to lie back and recline. To indulge in simple pleasures like food, wine, and conversation.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a House of Sin and debauchery if there weren’t more literal displays of lust happening. Couples paired off both privately and publicly, submitting to physical pleasure. Swings hung from the ceiling, and more adventurous demons rode each other above the dancers swirling across the checkered limestone and marble floor below.

I hadn’t visited this circle before the spell-lock, so it was all new.

Unlike the overindulgence on display at Gluttony’s, Lust’s ballroom and all the demons of his court exuded that same sort of sensuality that was pervasive in this room.

From the artwork Lust had chosen to the clothing and seductive glances, fluttering of lashes and… the hunt. Members of this court thrilled at the dance of seduction, almost as much as they enjoyed the actual pleasure. Ladies wore sheer gowns that offered a hint of nakedness. Lords’ clothing was made of the same material—all of it designed to inspire lust, desire.

We moved through the room of politely chattering demons, taking in the full splendor of the party. One section was curtained off, and I peered through it. Here was the more daring section. Lords and ladies wore nothing but masks while they danced.

A male couple embraced each other, lost in each other’s gazes. Around the outer portion of this closed-off chamber, mattresses lined the floor. Couples moved from the dance floor to the beds, continuing their seductions.

“If you’d like a mask, your majesty, that can easily be arranged.” Lust grinned as I dropped the curtain back. “A password is also required to indicate consent. Would either of you like it?”

Wrath took a sip of the drink he’d snagged earlier and said casually, “I would like to be home with my queen instead of tolerating your paltry jabs.”

“Oh, I see.” Lust’s voice turned mocking. “You’re angry because you’d like to be home jabbing your wife.”

“Perhaps your idea that anyone would enjoy ‘jabbing’ is why you’re unattached, brother.”

I spotted Envy across the crowd, and he raised a glass in my direction. Help came in the most unexpected places sometimes, but I didn’t care. “If you’ll both excuse me.”

I rushed away, leaving the brothers arguing, and swiped a glass of demonberry wine. I clinked my glass against Envy’s. “Thank you for saving me from that fight.”

“I figured they were having another adolescent argument involving their cocks.”

“You’re not wrong.”

At that he grinned. “I rarely am.”

“Humble, too.”

“I’m a prince. Royals don’t bother with something as pedestrian as humility.”

I chuckled, the sound bringing another grin to the prince’s lips. It was hard to believe—after everything we’d been through—that we could stand here, willingly, smiling together. “Careful, you don’t want to show too much emotion or someone might think you actually like your queen.”

“I wouldn’t go out of my way to stab you,” he said. “So that’s progress.”

Now it was my turn to smile. “And I wouldn’t go out of my way to incinerate you.”

“Obviously you cannot wield fire magic anymore, but I appreciate the sentiment.” His brows raised. “Are we… friends?”

Envy looked and sounded aghast, but somehow I felt my answer mattered. More than he’d let on. I gave him a disgusted look, not feeling disgusted at all. “It would appear so.”

“How tragic.”

“Indeed. I’m rather put off by it,” I lied. Envy’s scowl didn’t quite match the new glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t happiness—whatever dark thing he’d gone through, he hadn’t healed from that—but it looked suspiciously close to contentment. It was there and gone, and I might have read it wrong, but for his sake, I hoped I was mistaken. Each of Wrath’s brothers, my sister, and all our friends deserved to find their own happiness, however that looked to them.

A hush fell over the crowd as the doors swung open.

“Vittoria, goddess of death, princess of House Vengeance.”

The court announcer’s voice rang out, and for one short beat, the music halted.

Vittoria entered the ballroom looking the feared goddess she was. Her black gown was sheer everywhere except for carefully placed gemstones and appliques.

All eyes turned to her and lingered. She looked stunning—with her dark hair tumbling down her back in soft curls, her lips painted a brilliant red, and the confidence of a woman who owned who she was and didn’t give two damns what anyone thought.

My lips twisted up. House Vengeance would certainly face some difficulties as it reestablished itself, but if anyone could handle adversity and thrive, it was my sister.