Page 120 of City of Snakes
We’d told Barden that Haward would be traveling to the West Corridor to negotiate land contracts on my behalf with Bringham. He’d seemed unworried until no word of Haward’s arrival had come.
Our ruse would not hold for long. Barden had already begun asking me questions and word had started to spread about the missing lord.
My foot kept tapping, and I gnawed on my lower lip.
There was a light knock on the door before a familiar flash of auburn hair bounced into the room and Elsedora sat beside me on the sofa.
“Who let you in this time?”
Elsedora kept appearing unannounced and sniffing around the castle. I’d told my guards to ban her, but she kept seducing them or skirting them; she was frightfully fast and lethally quiet.
“Again—I am quite good with guards. They tend to like wild redheads with no moral compass.”
“So you’re still propositioning my guards to get into my castle? Remind me to fire them all.” I huffed, not having the energy or patience for her today.
“Only the pretty ones,” she answered. “The brunette with the dimples is quite taken with me. Her name begins with an ‘S,’ but I forget what it is.”
“Do you prefer women?” I sipped my cold tea, wanting her to leave me be. Though for some reason, her presence kept the dark thoughts from creeping in. So instead, I engaged her.
“I preferpeople. Soft things,” she said as she leaned over me and trailed a finger down the buttons of my jacket as though she was searching them for something. “Hardthings, too.”
The insinuation in her voice made me choke on the tea I hadn’t realized was still in my mouth.
She smirked and continued, “Speaking of hard things, where is your blade today?”
“Being repaired by the blacksmith,” I lied.
“Really?” She placed an arm over the back of the sofa behind me and crossed a leg beneath herself to face me.
“Is it unusual for a sword to require maintaining?”
She smirked and asked, “Do you know why I’m really here, puppy?”
Curiosity was a beastly inconvenience. I sighed, not wanting to admit that I did, badly, want to know.
Her visits had become something of a comfort—a poorly timed, confusing comfort. But if she came without bad news, it meant Sybilla was safe.
“No. But something tells me you’re going to tell me even if I do not ask.”
She shrugged. “You would be correct. The Death Origin, Caym, has risen. He is using envoys to do his bidding. Done any of hisbiddingrecently?”
My shoulders tensed. I’d never been much good at lying. “What would make you think that I have?”
She hummed for a moment. “Well...for one, there is a mark of Death on the hilt of that broadsword you usually carry. I hope you trust whomever you gave it to because we don’t know exactly what it does. And also, I have seen the change occur in you more than once.”
I held my breath.
I’d put Ryssa in danger.
My heart rose to my throat. “I have never seen anything wrong with my sword. And what change?”
“It could be charmed so its wielder cannot see it,” she answered. “Your eyes grow darker—hollow and callous. Nothing like the warm gold they are now.”
I shook my head. “That is a ridiculous accusation.”
“Oh, pet. I do like you. It would be a shame to see you die.” Elsedora trailed a finger down my neck and to my collar and then flipped it as though inspecting it, too.
“Elsedora…”
