Page 105 of Summer of Sacrifice

“Chresedia is Lady War.” They both watched as Gideon baulked at his blunt words. “That treatise you read, the dark arts you mentioned seeing in it… Did it involve animancy?”

Gideon nodded. “Reanimating the dead.”

“Chresedia has done so with many bodies, and she herself has inhabited many bodies. She wishes to return to The Void and rule magic.”

That was the condensed version, at least.

Gideon looked at Agatha, sceptical. “Because you are no longer there to do that?”

“You’re astute,” she muttered, “I’ll give you that.”

A smug grin split Gideon’s face. “And you two plan to stop her, hm?”

They only stared at him silently, and he tipped his head back, howling with laughter until he had to clutch his abdomen.

“Right then. Have a grand time with that.” Wiping a faux tear from his eye, he finally calmed. “That’s rich. Well,”—he clapped both hands together—“thanks for all this, but I’m sure you can see yourselves out.”

Agatha’s fist clenched and she opened her mouth to spew a few choice words at him, but Grimm grabbed her waist, turning her toward the door.

Not worth it,” he whispered.

Just as they made it into the corridor, Gideon’s voice called out. “Uh, wait!”

Agatha peeked back around the doorframe, perilously close to shoving the mortician back in his little ice cubby.

“Is that feisty one going with you?”

Agatha scowled. “Feisty one?”

“Your Sister.” Gideon waggled a hand in front of him. “Tried to kill me and whatnot.”

“Sorscha.”

“Yes, Sorscha,” he purred. “I like her and that pretty lord with her. The one you mentioned earlier.”

“Gaius.”

“Gaius.” The lust in his tone made Grimm’s jaw clench. He hopped down from the table. “Let me get my good coat, then.”

Seleste, Then

SELESTE

It was the most beautiful she’d ever felt.

The dress Cal had given Seleste felt like a dream against her skin. Everything about the evening unfolding before her felt like a fairytale. Whitehall was awash with candlelight, every polished surface displaying lush bouquets of Summer wildflowers and trays of hors d'oeuvres, exotic fruits, and lavish desserts.

She hadn’t yet seen Cal, but he would walk in any moment, hopefully before the guests began arriving so she could steal a moment with him alone.

Lord Anthony Townsend and his family had arrived the day before, the Bardots and the Townsends spending every moment together. It was then that the rest of the staff had finally discovered who they’d been serving all Summer.

The Earl of Bellvary, Frances had whispered in astonishment at least a dozen times. The earl! Seleste had tried to act surprised, but it didn’t matter, no one was paying her any mind once the secret was out and the Townsends arrived.

They were a distinguished family, highly proper and the perfect depiction of Seagovian aristocracy. Like Lady Della, the Lord and Lady Townsend carried themselves with faux kindness, interacting with the servants plastered with smiles that barely concealed the sneers hidden beneath them.

Along with all the information her cunning discerned about people, Seleste also made a point to monitor how they treated those they deemed lesser than themselves. It was a habit she’d taught Aggie and Sorscha when they were little girls in Helsvar. An immensely useful skill.

Though they were adept at concealing their feelings towards those in lower standing, the Townsends did not pass the test.

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