Page 33 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“Then we learn if all my years of plotting and your heroic lineage are enough to shape the realms.” His tone vibrated with eagerness, a boy with a shiny new toy. Except that toy could probably end civilization if we got it wrong.

I told myself to refuse. I told myself that after everything he’d done, I shouldn’t help him. But my father’s face rose in my mind, the memory of that tower, the hypocrisy I’d witnessed in Solandris. Maybe if I could shape how Kazimir used this artifact, I could spare a lot of people. Or maybe I was just as power-hungry as he was, albeit less honest about it.

Drawing a steadying breath, I took Kazimir’s hand. I felt the faint shock of his touch—electric, dangerous—and walked with him into that chamber.

15

ACTIVATE AN ANCIENT ARTIFACT (RESULTS MAY VARY)

KAZIMIR

Arabella swept into the chamber like she owned it, her deep blue gown hugging curves that nearly had me flinging compliments right and left. I hadn’t decided yet whether my tailor deserved a medal or a beheading for crafting something so distractingly perfect. Her gaze traveled over the rotating constellations on the ceiling, then dropped to the concentric crimson runes carved into the stone floor. Three nights’ worth of blood, sweat, and magic had gone into those etchings, and I felt an odd satisfaction at seeing her pause in admiration.

Her hand was still in mine when a sharp rap on the door broke through my concentration. I cleared my throat and forced myself to let her go.

“Enter,” I called.

Vex slipped through first, her hood pulled low. Griffin followed, lanky limbs folding in on themselves as he squinted at the sudden brightness. Sims stepped in behind them, wearing his traditional “we might all die today” expression, and Thorne lumbered last, practically forcing the doorframe to widen in self-defense.

“Ah, the morning-after committee,” I said, leaning against the windowsill. “How was the rest of the feast?”

“Only three people died, my lord,” Sims reported with his usual calm efficiency, as if that were good news.

“Who?”

“Lord Vico’s second cousin choked on a chicken bone, one of the kitchen staff fell into the main hearth, and Viscountess Morana’s personal guard was found with a dagger in his throat.”

I muttered a curse under my breath. “So not Morana or the Syndicate representative, then. Figures.”

Griffin, looking as though he wanted to expel the night’s mistakes along with his next breath, groaned and massaged his temples. “I don’t even remember how I ended up naked on one of the outer isles. Last thing I recall is challenging someone to a duel over…” He squinted at me. “Was it pudding?”

“You enchanted the dessert spoons to chase people around the room,” Vex informed him drily, tugging at her hood. Beneath it, her now-silver hair was a frazzled mess. “While hiding under the table giggling and declaring yourself a genius.”

Griffin’s frown carved a deep line between his brows.

Vex kept going. “Then you thought the lightning bridge needed ‘improvements.’ You vanished soon after.”

“Ah,” Griffin muttered, vaguely horrified. “That explains the scorch marks.”

Thorne’s booming laugh filled the chamber and rattled the windows. “Doesn’t explain why both diplomats from the Ashen Wastes followed you across that lightning bridge.”

Griffin’s pallor turned nearly translucent. “I’m… rather concerned about what I might have promised them.” He put his face in his hands. “Those horns aren’t just for show.”

Sighing, I made a mental note to double his supervision. Last time he tinkered with the bridges, we lost an entire platform oftax collectors. Not that I missed them, but the paperwork had been dreadful.

Meanwhile, Sims smoothed his jacket. Once again, he was the only one unruffled by the night’s debauchery. “The court was quite taken with our new Dark Lady,” he said, inclining his head toward Arabella.

“Why wouldn’t they be?” I replied, stepping away from the windowsill to check the Heirloom. “She was enchanting.” That was an understatement; she’d been half the reason guests hadn’t torn the place apart—and the main reason I’d spent most of the night struggling to maintain my usual icy composure.

I felt Arabella’s stare against my back, but I refused to glance her way. After last night’s… tactical errors, I needed distance, even if it felt like having splinters hammered under my fingernails.

“There was never any doubt,” Thorne rumbled, crossing his massive arms.

“And the guests loved Lady Blackrose’s spirit,” Vex echoed, shooting a mischievous look at Arabella.

As one, we all turned to my bride, who stood there openly observing us, not a flicker of hesitation on her face. Even when a room full of professional villains discussed her like a prized asset, she didn’t bat an eyelid. My entire staff could learn something from that spine of steel. Well, except for Thorne, who had a literal spine of steel courtesy of a blacksmith’s curse. But that was another matter.

I left the Heirloom and joined the others. “Now that we’re all here, we should begin.”

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