Page 58 of To Dance with Death

“You heard the lass,” Sundar says, teeth flashing in a smile. “See just how terrible I really was, like the time I let baby Ishu raid your suitcase and take a chomp out of those pants you love so much.”

“Get out,” Anton says. “Or else I might be tempted to follow through on my threat.”

“Come on, Sire,” Sundar goads, nudging the codex toward Anton. “Aren’t you dying to know—”

“Request denied. Goodbye,” Anton says, sweeping the codex clear off the table.

This is all going horribly.

At least he’s allowing Sundar to remain an Exalted, which is rather important if he’s still going to help me. Otherwise he’d have to live outside the palace.

“I think it best we conclude our evening here,” I say, pushing up from my chair.

“Agreed,” Anton says. “He spoiled my appetite.”

“Clearly not,” Sundar says, jerking his chin toward Anton’s plate.

“Keep him out of my sight,” Anton says to me.

“Would a blindfold help?” Sundar asks jovially.

I resist an eye roll, and yet the taunting reminds me of the way brothers might act. The way I know, without a doubt, Anton himself behaved. “You two are more similar than you realize.”

“Like two peas in a pod,” Sundar cheerfully agrees. Meanwhile I snatch his arm, digging in my thumb for good measure as I drag him toward the hall.

But Sundar pulls against me, halting us in our tracks.

“We reclined at many a table together, Sire,” he says, angling his chin over his shoulder. “I think I know you well enough to say that this—all of this—is beneath you.”

We make it only a few feet before Anton calls out. “Until tomorrow, Vastianna.”

“I take it I have the night off from dancing, then?”

“I’m not attending tonight. No reason for you to, either.”

“Why is that, Majesty?” I can’t help but ask.

He doesn’t answer me, turning to walk away first.

Chapter Eighteen

“Soooo,” Sundar says once we’re back in his suite, drawing out the vowel. “How was dinner?”

My glare is razor-edged. “Oh, I don’t know. He revealed very little and instead propositioned me to leap into his bed like all the rest of his nightly entertainment. Then you showed up and badgered the hell out of him, effectively ending our evening. So how did it go, Sundar? You tell me.”

“Look, I couldn’t help it,” he says. “Maybe I wanted to see exactly who he is now. Maybe I wanted to see how he reacted to my proximity to you.”

“For all the good it did.”

“Actually, I think it was rather telling. A shameyoudon’t see it.”

“I think I am a momentary infatuation for him, Sundar, and nothing more. That’s all you are seeing.”

“Then use it, Vasalie,” he says, stepping in front of me. “Make him want to spend more time with you. The more he falls for you, the more likely he is to open up to you—about Moranya, and maybe even about the codices.”

“That’s the problem! He won’t let himself fall for anyone. He rotates his souls like he does his wines!”

“Forsaken Fates, Vasalie, you have his interestnow! Wield it while you have it. As he sees it, you are his greatest temptation, and that gives you power. So stoke his attraction. String him along like a cat. Unspool just enough yarn that he chases after the ball.”