Page 27 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
He paused, debating whether to push for more. “So, what is it, then?” he asked at last.
The witch pressed her lips into a thin line. “I can’t say more.”
“Does it have anything to do with the necklace you guard more fiercely than your life?” He nodded towards her chest, where two snakes were intertwined in a delicate design.
Her fingers traced the pendant. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
The slight stung, and a bitter taste filled his mouth at the offending statement. “Try me.” When she remained silent, Zacharia dropped it. “Well, you know what they say… If you love something, let it go. If it loves you back, it’ll return.”
The witch appeared more at ease. “I think I owe you for this enlightening chat.”
Zacharia spread his arms in mock surrender. “I was here.You weren’t very forthcoming with the words…”
He stopped mid-sentence as she knelt between his legs and finished what she’d started earlier.
Women. Who could ever figure them out?
14
Amelia
A week after she’d arrived in Antambazi, Amelia received an invitation to a special dinner.
She loathed the provocative dress the Queen had gifted her for the occasion. Brick-red satin, a tight bodice and skirts that parted in a daring thigh-high slit. Golden sandals crept up her ankles with delicate straps and elevated heels, and her hair fell loose over one shoulder. By contrast, the Queen looked divine in a sheer white gown dusted with gold across her chest and hips, her ensemble sealed with a single detail: Mikhail’s ring.
Every encounter with the ancient ring was an ordeal for Amelia. It not only embodied her mistakes from the past months, but also served as a silent reminder that she still knew nothing about Mikhail’s fate. She forced her gaze away from it and concentrated on the dinner ahead.
Tonight, the ballroom resembled a hollow, lifeless heart, with a table at its centre. Gone were the lively conversations, elegant sombre tones, and patriotic dances. Instead, they had been replaced with a rather despicable guest.
General Petrov, notorious for his twisted pastime of dismembering live beings, enjoyed the Queen’s clear favour. This was evident from the lavish spread before him and the formal attire in which he and his son were received in Antambazi.
The General’s pale blue irises, set in jaundiced, bloodshot eyes, gleamed with a hint of madness. His thinning, neatly combed grey hair complemented his sporty yet elegant suit.
“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty,” he said, as they sipped fragrant red wine after the rare steak. “I’ve long wished to visit your little haven. My son, Vesel”—he gestured to the younger man seated beside him—“has a fondness for hidden places.”
The moment Amelia met the son’s icy blue gaze, her gut told her: if the General was an unhinged psychopath, this man was a hundred times more dangerous.
Vesel was a stocky man, probably in his mid-thirties, with a round face and calculating eyes similar to his father’s. Dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a wine-coloured tie, he radiated an unsettling charm. “The supernatural has always fascinated me. And dining with beautiful women brings me even greater pleasure.”
He flashed a frog-like grin at the three women at the table: the Queen, Amelia, and Kathrine. The latter was wearing a shimmering black dress with thin straps and a tight skirt that fell just below the knees, highlighting her alluring figure.
Sevar cleared his throat, reminding them of his presence. “For me, the pleasure is all in dining with humans.”
“Nothing cements alliances like a pleasant meal together,” one of the Queen’s advisors interjected, the last guest at the table. Usually gruff and surly, he now wore an unconvincing smile that made him thoroughly unpleasant.
Amelia scanned the group, once again wondering about the purpose of this meeting. When her gaze met the younger Petrov’s, he nodded towards her untouched plate. “You immortals are lucky. Some of you don’t need food at all, while others can eat whatever they want without consequence. I used to weigh four hundred pounds.” He patted his stomach. “Then, I had to endure endless diets, restrictions, and surgery to lose weight. And for what? To keep limiting myself.”
“Overindulgence doesn’t do immortals any favours either,Vesel. Gluttony is a deadly sin,” the Queen remarked.
“Ah, yes! Alongside lust, greed, and many otherqualitiesI most definitely possess.” He laughed.
His father shook his head. “One day, he’ll learn discipline. Let’s just hope it’s not too late.”
The Queen arched a practised brow. “With a father like you? Why would he need to?”
Amelia resisted the urge to gag at the obvious sycophancy.
General Petrov’s expression made it clear he wasn’t buying the flattery. “The entire world will bow to him once you fulfil your end of the bargain.”
