There weren’t any clues around her. All she saw were tables set with wineglasses and crystal plates.
It really did look like a dinner. Her nerves curbed a bit. Perhaps itwasjust a meal and the nobles were simply invited as guests.
They had seen her during the first trial, from a distance. And she had clearly caught their attention. Some of them looked too long at the parts of her dress that hugged her body. Others watched her like she might be getting ready to shed her clothes or burst into flames. A few backed away, eyes trained on her mouth and fingers, as if half expecting to see claws.
She was a temptress. A monster who subsisted on the hearts of easily seduced prey.
They thought they knew her.
They knew nothing.
A few people gasped as Grim appeared beside her from thin air, making himself visible. His expression did not change.
The people who weren’t watching her before were certainly looking now. The temptress and the ruler of darkness. A winning pair.
“Grim,” she said curtly, avoiding meeting his gaze. Remembering she knew nothing about him or what he was after.
“Hearteater,” he whispered, so only she could hear it. His eyes dipped, studying every inch of her new crimson dress. The two thin straps. The simple scrap of silk of a bodice. Her waist, where the dress cinched tightly before tumbling into more sheets of fabric that clung to her body. Gloves to her elbows, which she rarely wore but had opted for, if only for a bit more coverage, the same color and material as her dress.
He looked shamelessly, eagerly, like it was important to commit every inch to memory. She had never been studied so thoroughly.
Did he mean to embarrass her?
Or seduce the seductress?
His dark eyes seemed to get even darker as they met hers, and he said, “I’m not sure what I enjoy more. Seeing the way you grip a sword ... or the way your dress grips you.”
If looks could kill, the Nightshade would be dead, and Isla would have broken the first rule of the Centennial. Grim’s lips formed a devious smile in response to her glare.
She took a step toward him, emboldened. She still wasn’t sure what game Grim was playing, but shedidknow he enjoyed it when she bit back.
“And I don’t know whatIenjoy more. Replaying the image of my sword against your throat ... or thinking about how your heart might look on my plate.”
Grim’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Careful, Hearteater,” he whispered, towering over her, standing far too close. “I might just give it to you.”
For the last few moments, it might as well have been just her and Grim in the room.
Applause brought her back into the crowd. Isla turned to see that Azul had positioned himself at the head of a table already filled with the other rulers. “Welcome,” he said. “If you could all make your way to your seats, we’ll get started.”
Isla rushed to the table, grateful for an excuse to put some distance between her and the Nightshade. Though the only two remaining seats were next to each other. Perfect.
It was clear thiswasa demonstration, not an elaborate dinner event, even though food was being brought out by dozens of staff. Her mind began spinning possibilities. She was alert, studying every detail, mentally preparing herself for whatever trial she might face.
The nobles had settled in their seats. Isla studied the suits and dresses, all made from dazzling fabrics. The tailor must have been busy in the prior months. She wondered if he had noticed his two missing pieces yet.
But the shop had hundreds of clothes ... it would be nearly impossible to take inventory each day.
Then again, the tailor seemed deeply committed to his profession. Perhaps hehadnoticed. Would he report the theft?
Would he suspect the Wildling who had been in his shop that same morning of being the culprit?
“Let us begin,” Azul said heartily, smiling widely. The Skyling ruler had the most perfect, shining teeth she had ever seen. Tonight, he wore robes with triangle cuts along the sides, revealing markings painted across his dark skin, symbols she didn’t recognize. Some Wildlings inked themselves with needles and paint after their training or honorable feats. Isla was never allowed. Her body did not belong solely to her, Poppy said. It belonged to the realm. She was its representative, its lifeline. Even after having been born so wrong.
“Tonight, I would like to celebrate the tremendous abilities that will allow us to succeed in shattering our curses,” Azul said. “Rulers of realm, would you honor us with a demonstration of your power?”
Isla almost dropped the goblet of water in her hand she had absentmindedly reached for.
Grim’s eyes were on her cup. Her fingers were shaking against the stem, water rippling inside her glass. If she thought her legs would be steady beneath her, she might have run right out of the room.
