Page 78 of These Vile Hearts

Which I basically am.

I lift my skirt to reveal my bare legs, up to my midthigh, to the place just below the tips of my weapons and diabetic supplies where they hang from the hidden belt the king gifted me. “Care to feel me up to be sure I don’t have a dagger shoved up my—”

“That won’t be necessary,” the king interrupts before gesturing to his guard. “Step outside, Tamarind.”

“But, Your Majesty—”

“That was an order.” King Castor’s eyes darken. “Step. Outside. And close the door behind you.”

Tamarind waits for a beat, shooting me a look filled with hostility and hatred. It takes far too much effort to keep my mouth from breaking into a triumphant grin.

“Vines of silence would not be wise now,” he says to the king. Then, finally, he steps through the door and closes it behind him.

My heart starts to pump even more aggressively. I have the king alone. Finally alone. And my blood sugar is far from low, which I’m telling myself is only temporary. Only a little longer. But I have to play my cards just right—perfectly, in fact—for this to work.

I pace to the piano with my arms still folded in front of me. Leaning back against it, I fix the king with a look of intense disappointment. “You should not have spoken like that to me earlier,” I begin. “King or not, I am still a guest in your kingdom, and you treated me like the worthless mortal you clearly think I am.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw as he slides his hands into his pockets, reminding me rather strongly of his brother in this moment. Except, instead of a cocky smirk, he’s wearing the same expression a guilty dog makes when they’ve been caught rooting through the garbage. Tail between legs. Upturned brows. Avoidant eyes. Trash everywhere.

I’m the trash.

“You can’t understand why or how—and I can’t explain without endangering us both—but everything I said before was to protect you.”

“Protect me fromwhat, precisely?”

“Fromhim.” He gestures to the closed door as though Durian is standing right there, watching us with that cheeky smile of his.

“The prince? What do you honestly think, Castor? That I’m going to fall for your cursed brother in a single night and die at your feet?” My voice builds. “Do you think I’m some pathetic mortal dreaming of falling in love with a royal dryad? A desperate girl hoping to be whisked away into the trees forever?”

He takes several steps closer to me, sending a look over his shoulder. “Lower your voice.”

In the dim glow from the dying fire, his blackened horns cast an ominous shadow across his face, more beast than man in so little light.

“Are you afraid the cursed prince will return to save me from your wrath?”

The king takes two more steps forward until we are only a few feet apart. The shadows in the room move as he does, growing in height as he comes closer to the flickering fire near the grand piano. “It’s notmywrath you should be worried about.”

“Oh? Whose, then? Your big bad cursed brother who fucks girls so good they can’t possibly live another second?”

Head tilted down, he glares up at me with a murderous expression. “Stop.”

“Maybe they die from the sheer force of their orgasms. Ooohh,Durian,” I cry out, arching my back and running my hands down my bodice in feigned ecstasy. “Right there. Yes. Don’t stop.Yes.Right—”

Closing the distance between us, he throws out both arms, caging me between him and the piano.“Stop.”

“You know why I think you have such a problem with him?” I say in a low voice. “I think you’re jealous.”

Veins of black appear along the skin of his arms visible beyond his rolled-up sleeves. I can feel the wood of the piano behind me start to erode beneath his hands.

“Whywould a king be jealous of a cursed prince who kills everyone who loves him?”

“Because peopledolove him. They love him so much they’re willing to die for him. Can you say the same?”

The king’s horns frame my head. He could bash them into my skull right now if he wanted to. Pieces of the piano crumble to the floor, the scent of decaying wood filling my airway.

“And would you?” Castor’s voice rolls fog-thick over me. “Would you die for the cursed prince?”

I bite down on my bottom lip, and his eyes track the movement, watching as I drag teeth across the delicate skin. “If I loved him, I would.”