I cross the room to stand at her side.
On her table is something I can’t identify. Its skin is peeled away, its chest cracked open, and a slew of organs glisten in unnatural pinks, purples, and bruised blues.
“I need a living subject, someone with this on them. We have to keep one alive,” I say as I turn my attention from the corpse to her.
“The spies are collecting lists of traitors,” Iris says, flipping a page in her journal. “There are missing persons, too. Either might lead you to someone infected, but you want to keep them?”
Her eyes flick up to meet mine, skeptical, and a flash of disapproval before she guards it.
“Yes. Dead bodies are your specialty. Mine is in the living. I want to study how the curse manifests in real time,” I reply, trying to explain my thought process.
Iris nods in agreement. “Kalix will have the latest communication. He’s probably out training the guards or in a meeting.”
“I’m surprised you don’t know exactly where he is,” I tease, stealing a quick glance at a bunch of scribbles that mean nothing to me in her journal.
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “He’s the one who keeps tabs on me, not the other way around.” She pauses for a moment. “I’m not sure how aware those cursed are. There are conditions where the individual suffers and killing them is a mercy.”
“Sacrifices have to be made,” I say within the breath of her finished sentence. “Life is suffering. Even those I bring here will die, Iris. I will be their mercy.”
She nods her head and gives me a tight, sad smile. “I’m learning better than to argue with you.” She approaches me and shoves me toward the door. “Now shoo! I’m working.” Any sadness is gone from her face, and I can’t help but smile back at her.
The door clicks behind me, locking, but I don’t feel shut out.
If anything, I know I’m distracting her too much if I stay. We talk too much. Always do.
I RUN INTO FELIX BEFORE I find Kalix.
The king looks especially regal today, drenched in gold, the metal catching it in the light with hardly a single thread of another color to interrupt it.
Guards flank him. His older, round-faced assistant trails behind him, listing the day’s activities.
“Ah! The lady of the hour!” Felix beams. “I’d heard you were half dead last night, and yet, here you are! Fresh as a daisy…or as resistant as a cockroach.”
“Wow. I’m swooning, your majesty,” I say sardonically, rolling my eyes at his approach.
“As all women do. Didn’t think you were immune, did you?”
His smile is all teeth—and trouble. I don’t doubt it works on most girls. I’m not most girls.
“Suppose not. Must be the nauseatingexcessof gold that attracts me.”
He only grins wider. “Like a dragon lured to its horde. Fitting—for something so cold-blooded and bloodthirsty as you.”
Without waiting for a reply, he threads his arm through mine and starts pulling me along.
“Now come have lunch with me.”
He never gives me a choice when it comes to these lunches. After the night I’ve had, a distraction sounds nice.
“Do me a favor in return, then.”
“Having lunch with the king is afavordone by you? Most see it as an honor.”
“Most haven’thadlunch with you, Felix.”
He pinches my arm. I shove him with my shoulder in return. His laugh is loud enough to echo, filling the corridor with his presence before we reach the hall’s end.
“What favor could I possibly owe you? Hungry for firstborns, or do you need me to find a man to slake your appetites?”
