Page 66 of Sinless Demons
The enormous ballroom is overflowing with mourners. Fae I’ve never met before clasp my hand with tears in their eyes and remind me of what a “kind man” my brother was.He’s asleep among the shadowsthey say so many times, it feels like an eerie threat.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I whisper when Zaviar brushes against my side.
It’s the first thing I’ve said to him all day.
And it wipes away the pained look on his face. His hand pushes over his heart, and his tone is unsteady when he speaks. “You’re strong. You can do this,” he whispers.
My palm lifts to him to ask him if he’s still hurting after my sister helped him, but he walks away once more.
“He’s always walking away,” I say beneath my breath.
“All the good ones do,” Someone says behind me.
My dress skims the ground as I turn, and I’m surprised to meet the dark kind eyes of my father’s advisor.
“Johnn,” I say slowly.
All the good ones do.
What does that mean?
Just how many people hold demonic secrets in this castle? My father loved a demon. I recently found out my grandmother did, too.
What about you, Johnn? Are you in love with a monster my father has declared beneath us?
“The crowd has asked about King Gravier,” Johnn says carefully.
I nod. He nods.
Neither of us say a treasonous word.
“Pen is going to greet them and give them an update on your father.” His shoulders stiffen in his black suit, and if I wasn’t certain of where he stands, I am now.
He’s asked Pen to lie to these people.
Because he and I are on the same side.
“Good,” I smile slowly, and I’m faintly aware of how close a demon is standing behind me.
“The man behind your throne, the one with the charred fingers and tattoos... he’s looking at me like he wants to kill me.” He takes a slow sip of his wine as tells me all of this in the most discreet way.
“Krave is a little...protective.” I smile as if it’s nothing, but jealousy turns rather quickly for my incubus. One minute he’s laughing and making sex jokes, the next he’s eating all the happiness from the depths of your soul.
It happens.
I wave Johnn away with a smile before it canhappento my innocent advisor.
That false smile is still glued hard in place when my gaze spans to the small woman stepping up in front of the King’s podium just ahead of us.
“Good Evening,” Pen says solemnly. She’s graceful, and her eyes shine with kindness. Everyone looks to her as a hush seizes the room. They trust her. “King Gravier,” she clears her throat loudly before finding her tone, “King Gravier seems to have forgotten his son’s memorial tonight. I’ve sent a messenger out to bring him home to his people, though. I’m sure he’ll be with us shortly.”
Sir Timmons’ mouth falls open at that outright lie, but I ignore him. Partly because Waltry doesn’t appear very shocked. And partly because Johnn is staring hard at me. We all keep our composure and innocent appearances.
Murmurs fire through the watchful audience.
It’s a scatter of nervous questions and speculations:
“He forgot?”
