After settling into my well-appointed room—all cobalt blue, silver, and dripping in an overabundance of luxury—I waited, perched on the edge of my bed, for what felt like hours. Straining to hear Wrath’s light knock at my door.
It never came.
At first I worried Lust had struck him, vengeance for what had occurred between them in Palermo. Then a new worry slipped in. We were staying in a House filled with debauchery. If Wrath hadn’t made it to his bed, I wondered if that meant he’d tumbled into someone else’s.
SilverFrost Garden,
southeast tower, dawn.
Wear something to die for.
And come masked.
I stared down at the note that arrived well past midnight. Cobalt blue paper inked with platinum—the parchment thick and luxurious.
There was no indication who the sender was, what I’d find if I accepted the invitation, or what manner of mischief I might be inviting into my already complicated world. The handwriting didn’t belong to Wrath, who still hadn’t shown up.
Given the rich indulgence of the paper and ink, I imagined it was penned by Gluttony, but there was always a chance one of the other princes in attendance had sent it along.
Wearing something “to die for” might not be a demonic euphemism.
I carefully considered my options. I could ignore it. That was certainly the safest route. After the assassination attempt at House Wrath, it wasn’t a stretch to believe it was a trap.
With everyone meeting at dawn to start the hunt, I’d be alone and vulnerable. Whoever sent it must know I’d chosen not to ride out with the group.
And the only person who knew that—aside from Wrath—was Gluttony.
If my attire mattered, it might indicate a clandestine party. One where masks were required to keep anonymity of the attendees. A mysterious event hosted in the underworld, by an unknown source, was not the typical gathering I’d ever considered.
But now… I exhaled. Now I couldn’t decline something that might present an opportunity for me to interrogate a prince of Hell without Wrath chaperoning.
I flipped the card over, end by end, thinking. Just because I’d been asked to meet at the SilverFrost Garden did not mean that’s where I had to show up. At least not initially.
A plan slowly came together in my mind. There was an expansive veranda outside the southeast tower ballroom with a grand staircase that led to the gardens. I’d arrive early and wait in one of the darkened corners there. I swung myself out of bed and quickly dressed in a gown made of shadows.
Gluttony strolled onto the empty veranda, a knuckle’s worth of liquor poured into a crystal glass. A decanter was tucked beneath his other arm. I would claim it was too early to drink, but he didn’t appear to have made it to bed. There was a mussed quality to his hair, a slight wrinkle in his suit. As if his bedmate had kept him occupied all night and well into the morning. He played the role of a debauched rake to perfection.
He took a healthy swig from his glass. All princes seemed to enjoy their alcohol the same, though the quantities in which they indulged differed.
I pressed myself deeper into the shadows and watched his approach through lowered lashes, holding my breath to avoid detection. As if the slightest inhalation would give me away.
“I can’t decide if I’m amused or insulted.”
My entire body tensed at having been discovered so quickly. I reached for my dagger, relaxing once I felt its familiar weight in my grip. I stepped into the watery predawn light.
There was no use hiding now.
I waited in silence for him to continue. Clearly he desired this meeting alone. He might as well dazzle me with whatever speech he’d prepared.
He leaned over the stone railing, surveying the decadent garden below. Silver flowers coated in frost glistened like diamonds. “Perhaps your strategy will work famously.”
“What strategy?”
“Winning the hunt. In five minutes, the whole of the castle will come charging out of the stables.” He set his drink on the wide railing before him, then motioned to the dark roof in the distance. Snow-covered hills rolled into an evergreen forest. “People rarely notice what’s in front of them, especially when they expect to find something else.”
“I’m not sure I follow your meaning.”
He slowly twisted to look at me, his expression a study of false chagrin. “I may have left out a few important details in the note. Like the prize for winning the hunt.”
I kept the trepidation off my face. I didn’t think it was anything more than typical country sport. “I was unaware that there was a prize.”