Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (17)

My smile was weak, as was my desire to correct him. So I didn’t. I turned to leave. “Thank you, Hal.”

“Wait a second.” Folding the cloth, he released a heavy breath and beckoned me closer.

Too curious and with little else to do, I turned back.

“Listen.” He peered at the stalls astride his before lowering his voice. “Whatever it is you’re seeking...” His eerie eyes met mine. “Goddess knows it won’t be worth getting.”

I almost rolled my eyes again, as he’d already said as much.

But then he added, “You’ll have more luck sneaking into those warded woods”—he jabbed his thumb behind him to the south—“and making a home for yourself in the mortal lands than you will any kingdom of Folkyn. Ain’t no such thing as sneaking about in any court, no matter who gets you in nor how. If they don’t want you there, then mark my words...” His voice dropped to a rasped whisper. “Eventually, they will find you, and if they don’t kill you, you’ll spend what remains of your days wishing they fucking had.”





The sparrow arrived with the waking moon.

Content to stay in bed, I ignored it. I hadn’t moved since arriving home from the market, my mood flat enough to neglect the growling pleas of my stomach.

Hal’s parting words were a constant spinning wheel through my mind, erasing all I’d clung to for years.

Insistent, the sparrow hopped along the ledge at the window and chirped.

“I’m not interested,” I said, though the creature wasn’t able to hear nor understand.

Perhaps it did.

The bird paused and watched me from across the apartment. Then it plucked the piece of parchment that’d been tied to its leg. It fluttered to the chipped row of low shelving beneath the window to land on a lace doily next to the small wooden clock.

The bird chirped again, wings spreading.

“Oh, fine.” I threw off the bedding and rose from the same single-sized mattress I’d slept on since I could remember.

Though I’d often wondered what it might be like to sleep in such comfort, I couldn’t bring myself to enter Rolina’s room again, let alone use her bed. Which was large enough for two grown men and overflowing with frills and feathered pillows.

The bird finally took flight, but not until I’d unrolled the small note that read, Midnight, same room, in a heavy and almost illegible cursive.

The note slowly crunched in my closing fist. I tossed it onto the kitchen countertop before opening the bag of cherry tomatoes and the cheese I’d purchased upon leaving the market. While eating, I contemplated what might happen at this next meeting.

I drained a glass of water and set it down with a trembling hand.

He was a king.

And it was therefore outrageous of me to lose myself to thoughts of his mouth devouring my own, and the way he’d felt so perfectly larger than life beneath me.

It would be equally as outrageous yet also wise to take his gold and never return—to continue seeking a way to sneak into Folkyn now that I had some means to do so. After all, there was a good chance Hal might have been lying about the sum of coin needed to persuade the right people.

His warning flattened that plan before it could grow wings. He hadn’t been lying, and even if he had, it would still cost more than I could afford.

And if I did not return to the Lair of Lust when sent for, what might Madam Morin do? She would undoubtedly be furious at my snubbing of any client, but a client such as he?

Whether I liked it or not, Crustle was where I must remain for the foreseeable future. So I popped another tomato into my mouth and drew a bath.

The squeak of the faucet and the water crashing against the porcelain tub echoed throughout the hauntingly empty apartment.

I’d spent my entire life feeling lonely. Now, I was truly alone.

Alone and unsure how to remain afloat while already sinking in these punishing and cage-resembling middle lands. To make an enemy out of anyone, especially a king, could cost me my life. Gane was the only one who might notice if I disappeared, and by the time he did, it could very well be too late.

I sank into the warming water and gazed at the coral tiles through a film of honeysuckle-scented bubbles, knowing none of this was new. I’d just made sure to never acknowledge it too closely before, my heart and mind always glued to a future I could not see.

For although I refused to admit it, I knew a future outside of Crustle was as good as nonexistent. If I wished to ensure my survival, it was best I make peace with that—and with my loneliness.

If this was it, then maybe there was no need to seek different employment. Maybe, with clients like the blue-eyed king, I could work for Madam Morin long enough to buy a small farm beyond the marshes surrounding the mayhem of town.

Dark-blue eyes blazed behind my closed eyelids, and I gasped as I rose from the water.

Excitement unfurled and exploded in my chest, shaming me.

I wanted to see my unexpected client again.

The king wanted me. For reasons I had yet to understand, being that he’d even said he preferred his lovers more experienced. If anyone could grant me all I’d dreamed of, everything that now seemed so irrevocably out of reach, it was a king of one of the ruling houses of Folkyn.

Impossible. He would certainly punish me.

But perhaps he wouldn’t.

Perhaps with enough patience and careful prodding, he could be convinced to help me, I thought, as the memory of his warm mouth and his warmer warning returned with frosted fire.