The Duke of Masadonia went out without even a whimper, body broken and urine staining his pants. The surge of savage satisfaction from watching the life go out of his eyes was short-lived, though. He wouldn’t lay a hand on Poppy again—or anyone for that matter—but it wouldn’t erase the pain and humiliation he’d inflicted upon her. Wouldn’t undo any of that.
I wished I could kill the sick bastard all over again.
Turning from the Duke, I stopped. I thought of what was to come tonight and the opportunity for a bit of dramatic flair I was now presented with.
“Well, Your Grace,”—facing him, my smile returned—“I do believe you will make a fine centerpiece for the Rite.”
I LOST MY BREATH
I was running late.
My visit with the Duke and subsequent arrangement took longer than expected.
Freshly bathed, I was finally dressed for the Rite in crimson, my mask in place as I strode through the packed foyer. The plan was to find Poppy, separate her from Vikter and Tawny, then get her into the garden, where Kieran would eventually be. My steps slowed, though. The place was a fucking madhouse.
Commoners moved among the Ascended and Lords and Ladies in Wait like waves of red. I spotted a handful of guards only because of the weapons they wore. There were so many people, and the scent of roses was heavy in the air, nearly choking me as I neared the Great Hall.
I’d cleaned the Duke’s blood from my hands, but nothing had washed away my smirk. It was firmly plastered across my face and would likely remain there for the foreseeable future.
Especially when I thought of his prized Blood Forest cane.
I saw hundreds milling about through the open doors, filling the floor and alcoves. The gold and white banners had been stripped, replaced by the red of the Rite, reminding me of the ones that hung in Wayfair. My upper lip curled. There were vases of roses in every shade placed every couple of feet, and the sight of them reminded me of when I’d overheard Tawny complaining about them. A wry grin tugged at my lips as I stopped at the pillars, scanning the scene before me. Everyone looked the same to me, dressed and masked in the color of fresh blood. My gaze skipped over an alcove and then shot back to one of the columns—
Good gods.
I saw Poppy standing there with Vikter and Tawny, and that odd damn prickling sensation hit the nape of my neck again as I lost my breath.
Staring at Poppy from the pillars, still several yards from her, the air just went right out of my lungs as if I’d forgotten how to fucking breathe. And how idiotic did that sound? One didn’t simply forget how to breathe, but never in my life had I felt that…that whoosh in my chest. Never. I didn’t know if it was because she wasn’t veiled, or because she wasn’t in white.
Or perhaps because she was simply the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.
Her hair was swept back from her face and fell in loose waves down her back, the color reminding me of raspberries in the light of the Great Hall. The red domino mask was leagues above the veil, and even from where I stood, I thought her lips appeared darker, lusher. And that gown…
The sleeves were a gossamer crimson, as was much of the rest. Only the fabric from the bodice to the thighs was opaque. The remainder was translucent, and all of it hugged the tempting curves of her body.
Poppy turned, angling away from where I stood. Her hair ended just above the sweet, lush swell of her ass.
That gown.
It was the likely source of my lost breath because it was obscenely decadent and made for sin.
And my imagination ran wild, filling my mind with all the fun and various ways one could sin as I started toward her. The nape of my neck tingled as I wove in and out of the crowd, my heart thumping.
The slope of Poppy’s shoulders tensed, and then she turned. Her rosy-hued lips parted, and fuck…so much want seized me. Too much. The breeches and tunic were far too thin for what I currently felt.
“Hi,” Poppy said and then clamped her mouth shut.
I grinned as her cheeks pinked. “You look…” There really wasn’t a single word that would do her justice, so I settled for the best I could think of in the moment. “Lovely.” I turned to Tawny, and honest to gods, she could’ve been nude or wearing a sack for all I knew. “As do you.”
“Thank you,” Tawny replied.
I glanced at Vikter. “You, as well.”
He snorted, and Tawny laughed, but I felt rewarded when I saw Poppy’s smile.
She turned to Vikter. “You do look exceptionally handsome tonight.”
The older man flushed as he gave a faint shake of his head.
I moved to stand behind Poppy, as close as I could. “Sorry for the delay.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked, sounding nervous.
“Of course,” I assured her. “I was pulled to assist with security sweeps.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. I did speak with Jansen to discuss the fires the Descenters planned to set. No one would be harmed tonight—well, no mortals, anyway—but many of the Ascended would find it difficult to return to their homes. “I didn’t think it would take as long as it did.”
Poppy appeared as if she wished to say something more but only nodded as she turned her attention to the dais. Music began playing as servants entered from the many side doors, carrying trays of fragile glasses and delicate foods.
“I need to speak to the Commander,” Vikter said, looking at me.
“I have her,” I told him.
Instead of reminding me exactly how important she was like he normally did, he only nodded before curtly pivoting. Relief swept through me. I wouldn’t have to work around Vikter and what that would inevitably lead to.
I moved to take Vikter’s place, standing at Poppy’s right. “Have I missed anything?”
“You haven’t,” Tawny answered. “Unless you were looking forward to a bunch of prayers and teary-eyed goodbyes.”
“Not particularly,” I commented dryly.
Poppy looked at Tawny. “Did they call out the Tulis family?”
Her brow creased. “You know, I don’t think they did.”
I bit back a smile. If they had, the Tulises would not have been able to answer. They were well on their way to New Haven.
Movement caught my attention. The Duchess made her way toward us, followed by several Royal Guards.
“Penellaphe,” the Duchess said, smiling.
“Your Grace,” Poppy replied so politely it was almost hard to believe I’d ever heard her curse.
The Duchess nodded at Tawny and me, her gaze sweeping over my form in the exact way I’d looked at Poppy. Would she miss her husband? I didn’t think so.
I smiled.
“Are you enjoying the Rite?” she asked Poppy. Apparently, it didn’t matter if Tawny or I were having a good time.
Poppy nodded. “Is His Grace not attending?”
My smile kicked up a notch.
“I believe he is running late.” The corners of the Duchess’s mouth tensed, giving away her worry.
She shouldn’t be.
The Duke was already here.
She moved in closer to Poppy, her voice low, but I heard her clearly. “Remember who you are, Penellaphe.”
My smile slipped from my face.
“You are not to mingle or socialize,” the Duchess continued.