I abruptly stood, chest heaving with the effort to rein in my emotions.
I brushed the wetness from my cheeks and vowed once again to best my enemies. Even the ones who no longer felt like adversaries.
NINETEEN
Ice-coated flowers sparkled like crystal and branches tinkled like winter chimes above my head as I strolled through the garden.
It was cold enough that I needed fur-lined gloves and a heavy velvet cloak, but the morning itself was lovely. Peaceful. I hadn’t had many of those days over the last few months, and this felt decadent. I squinted up through the latticework of boughs. On a good number of trees leaves stubbornly clung to life, frozen until either warmth or sunshine set them free.
I still hadn’t seen the sun through all the snow and overcast skies, so it would probably be a good long while before a thaw happened. If ever. I recalled the way Wrath had soaked up the sun one lazy afternoon on the roof of his commandeered castle in my city. Back then I’d assumed he’d missed the fiery pits of his hellish home. Now I knew better.
Clusters of flowers—pinkish purple roses and peonies and something with petals that looked like tiny silver crescent moons—sprung up in wider sections of the maze. I slowly walked along the inner pathway, the hedges towering on either side, beautiful living walls dusted with snow. The gardens of House Wrath were another stunning example of his refined tastes.
I followed the meandering trail until I came upon a reflecting pool near the center.
A marble statue of a naked woman stood in the water, a crown of stars on her head, two curved daggers in hand, her expression one of icy fury. She looked as if she’d tear through the fabric of the universe with those nasty blades, and regret nothing of her actions.
An oversized serpent—twice the circumference of my upper arms—wound up her left ankle, slithered between her legs as it clung to the left calf and thigh, then coiled around her hips and rib cage. Its large head covered one breast while its tongue flicked out toward the other, not as if it were about to lick, but as if it were blocking it from the view of curious passersby.
I moved closer, entranced and a little horrified by it. The serpent’s body actually hid most of her private anatomy. A wicked protector of sorts. Its scales were carved with expert care, almost fooling one into thinking it had been real and turned to stone.
I circled the giant statue. Her hair, long and flowing, had little crescent moon–shaped flowers carved into the unbound locks. Near the bottom of her spine, a goddess symbol had been etched horizontally. I reached over to pet the serpent when a low, keening howl grumbled up from deep below the earth. I jerked back and connected with a wall of warm flesh.
Before fear registered or I had time to react, an arm with steel-like muscle snaked around my waist, tugging me close. A sharp dagger pressed into my side. I stilled, breathing as shallowly as possible. My assailant leaned in, their breath warm against my icy skin. Hair on the back of my neck rose.
“Hello, little thief.”
Envy.
I shoved my fear into the deepest part of my mind, far from where he could detect just how much he’d rattled me. “Attacking a member of House Wrath is foolish. And coming here without an invitation is doubly unwise. Even for you, your highness.”
“Stealing from a prince is punishable by death.” His low chuckle lacked any trace of humor. “But that’s not why I’m here, Shadow Witch.”
He dropped the dagger and released me so quickly I stumbled forward. I squared my shoulders and faced him, my expression cold and hard. “If you’ve come for the book of spells, your trip was wasted. It belongs to me.”
I’d meant to say it belonged to witches, but it felt like the truth when the words escaped my lips. Envy blinked slowly.
“Bold and brazen. Perhaps you’ve found those claws after all.” His attention slid over me and then to the statue. “Have you noticed anything odd lately? Perhaps something strange about your magic?”
“No.”
He flashed a quick grin. “We all sense lies, Emilia. Allow me to be blunt. You stole from me, but I stole right back from you. Tit for tat.”
“Nothing has been stolen from me.”
“There was a curse on the spell book. Anyone who removed it from my collection would lose something vital to them in return.”
Cold dread sluiced through my veins. I had not been able to dip into my source of magic since I’d come back from his royal house. “You’re lying.”
“Am I? Perhaps you ought to cast a truth spell on me.”
He sheathed his dagger and gave me another slow once-over as he waited. Even though I suspected it would be futile, I concentrated on that well of Source, trying to dip into it and draw enough magic to wipe him—and his smug expression—from this circle.