Page 26 of A Dance Macabre

I suppress the overwhelming sense of relief I feel hearing both of their voices while my fury at Wolfgang still scorches my insides. I know the only reason he even sent Constantine in the first place is out of pure selfishness—most likely fearingdamnatio memoriaemore than he fears me.

“Just get me out of here,” I bark loudly.

They both mutter something that I can’t make out, and I stew in my indignation while I wait. Seconds later, Constantine’s voice travels back down to me.

“We’re sending down a rope, tie it to your waist and we’ll help you climb out!”

I grope at the dark, eventually finding the rope. Tugging it further down, I loop it around my waist, yelling out that I’m ready after making sure the knot is secure.

It takes great effort, but they manage to heave me up the well as I hold onto the rope while shuffling my feet against the stones. When I arrive at the top, they hook me under my arms and drag me out and onto the cool marble floor. Trying to hold on to the waning amount of dignity I have left, I quickly clamber to my feet.

Gemini gives me a slow once-over, my breathing loud in the silence. “You look positively ghastly,” he finally states, “and what did you do to yournails.”

Smoothing the matted hair out of my face with irritation, I narrow my eyes. “Whose fault is that?” I ask with a snarl. “I’m going to stake Wolfgang’s head on apike.”

“You both are quite homicidal for two people who can’t kill each other,” Constantine states, pursing her lips in amusement.

I glare at both of them, their mirth making me ill. “There are worse things than death,” I answer before storming out the door.

A few hours later,I’m back at the Grounds, bandaged and showered. The wound on my left arm needed a few stitches, but it was nothing Jeremial hadn’t done before.

Padding into my lofty bedroom, I cinch my black chiffon robe around my waist, the billowy sleeves lined with ostrich feathers.I let out a small whistle and hear the clacks of my dogs’ claws before seeing all three strut in.

I gingerly crawl onto my satin sheets, the dogs jumping up after me. Sundae curls up beside me while Truffles and Éclair settle down at my feet with small sighs.

Now that the adrenaline of the Lottery—paired with a forced trip down a sacrificial pit—has started to seep out of me, my body is heavy with exhaustion.

The fury that fueled my many attempts up the wall has simmered down to a quiet rage. I’m sure that Wolfgang expects me to retaliate quickly. If that’s what he believes, then it only proves how little he knows me.

Because revenge never expires.

Revenge never forgets.

Scratching Sundae behind the ear while she nuzzles into my thigh, I sigh deeply. Dread is slowly slithering its way up my throat at the thought of what comes next.

In the upcoming days, as the new …co-ruler of the city, I will have to move into Mount Pravitia, alongside Wolfgang.

Most of the lingering rage roiling inside of me is directed at myself.

How could I have been soidiotic?

So bold to think I could outplay our gods at their own timeless game.

I could refuse to move and rule from the Grounds—let Wolfgang have Mount Pravitia.

But not only would I never want toletWolfgang have anything, I would undoubtedly miss out on valuable information. I would rather slit my own throat than give a Vainglory the upper hand. Not to mention that moving into Mount Pravitia is a long-standing tradition—and I think I’ve tested the gods enough for an entire lifetime.

Although this particular defeat hurts worse than having every bone in my body pulverized, I must accept my fate: For the next nineteen years, Wolfgang and I are linked together, whether I want to accept it or not.

17

MERCY

Three days later, Jeremial pulls up to the back entrance of Mount Pravitia. It’s late in the evening, and although this is a private street, I don’t trust that it will keep the parasites from trying to capture exclusive pictures of the new ruler of Pravitia.

I keep my wide-rimmed fringed hat on my head to cover my face as Jeremial opens the car door for me to step out.

The news of there being two rulers broke yesterday.

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