The half-mask I’d had made was tasteful. Dark gold with delicate lines of spun glitter, offering the barest hint of snakeskin. I’d left my hair loose and wild, adding a few gold clips to pull it back from my face. I’d just finished the final touches when Wrath walked into the room and halted.
I couldn’t stop the coy smile from lifting my lips as I tossed the needle and thread I’d been holding back into my sewing kit. “It will do, I think.”
His intense gaze strayed to the mask. “Where did you find that?”
I reached up, brushing my fingers against the cool metal. “A proper gentleman comments on his date’s beauty. Not where she found a mask.”
“Are you my date tonight?”
His tone held a note of teasing. Underneath I sensed a thread of tension, though. I tried not to think about where he was last night, why he never came to my room when he promised he would. I had no idea what Lust wanted but could guess the sort of entertainment he might seek and goad his brother into. The sudden tightening in my chest felt too much like hurt.
“You’re escorting me there.” I lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure what else to call you. If you’d like me to try, I can probably come up with a few choice descriptions.”
“Of that I have little doubt.”
I openly admired his suit. Ebony and gold—his waistcoat also featured snakeskin, except his was made entirely of metal, like chain-mail armor. “Expecting a battle?”
“Only if you ask me to fight off suitors.”
“Where’s your mask?”
He held out an arm. “Enjoy the mystery of it.”
“I am about to be subjected to the honor of having my biggest fear or a secret of my heart torn from me. Enjoying anything about this evening doesn’t feel realistic. I’d like to know what exactly to expect from each portion of the evening.”
“Dinner is next. And I’m certain you will find it pleasing.”
Without offering any more hints, Wrath escorted me down a stunning set of stairs and into a foyer filled with masked attendees sipping from champagne flutes and chatting in hushed tones. The atmosphere tonight was more subdued, but no less enchanting.
Gluttony noted our arrival and clapped his hands once, smoothly drawing the assembled partygoers’ attention. “Everyone, please, go into the dining room and take your seats. The feast is about to begin.”
Wrath led me to our places, and I was happy to see Fauna had been assigned the seat next to mine. Anir was across from her, and that was where my good fortune ended. Lady Sundra glided in, radiant like sunshine, her expression turning stormy when she spied me.
“Lady Sundra.”
Her jaw tightened, and I immediately realized the unintentional trap I’d set for her. With Wrath present, I’d forced her into using my title. “Lady Emilia.”
Envy swept into the room and sank into the chair opposite Wrath—and beside a still-glowering Lady Sundra—with a knowing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Before he could taunt me with whatever was brewing in his gaze, a chef strode into the room. “Good evening, lords, ladies, and princes of the underworld. Tonight’s menu theme is Fire and Ice. Each mortal land’s dish will represent the chosen elements in some form or another. Our first course is a frisée salad that features ice. You’ll see why shortly.”
An army of servants carried out individual plates and set them before each guest at the same time. Worries over Lady Sundra vanished. I could not tear my attention from the dish. Greens were placed in a circle on a wooden slab, resembling a bird’s nest plucked from a tree.
Sprinkled around the greens were bits of cheese and crushed pecans. In the center was a ruby-colored egg-shaped form filled partially with liquid. It was not simply a salad—it was a work of art, of passion. Creative genius on a level I’d never encountered.
I was happy to see I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t picked up a utensil yet, not quite ready to disturb the edible sculpture.
“A frozen strawberry vinaigrette.” The Prince of Gluttony tapped the faux egg, cracking it and spilling the dressing. He tossed the bits of cheese and crushed nuts into the leafy greens, mixing it all with the dressing. Everyone followed suit, their excited chatter filling the large dining chamber.
Wrath watched me, the corners of his mouth twitching as I cracked my vinaigrette egg and marveled at the dish. “You’re having a terrible time, I see.”
“Dreadful.” Despite the intrusive attention I felt coming from the opposite side of the table, I returned his grin. “It’s almost too pretty to eat.”