Throne of the Fallen

Objectively, Vexley was a physically attractive man, but the way his face contorted now made him look demonic.

“How dare—”

A knock came at the drawing room door, quickly followed by the butler.

“Dinner is ready, my lord.”

Called to duty, Vexley immediately returned his demeanor to that of the unruffled rake, his mouth hitching high on one side in a lopsided smirk.

“The time to feast has arrived!” he announced, then twisted on his heel, wavering only slightly before offering his arm to Camilla. “Miss Antonius. Friends. Shall we?”

Camilla felt Synton’s heavy gaze land on her once again, weighted with disapproval, but she didn’t dare to look at him, nor to publicly reject Vexley’s theatrical chivalry.

All she had to do was make it through this dinner.

Then, after the more polite crowd had departed and the drinking began in earnest, she’d sneak off to find that forgery and set it ablaze, incinerating Vexley’s hold over her once and for all.

SIX

THE PRINCE OF Envy watched Camilla slowly place her hand in the crook of Vexley’s arm.

The very arm Envy had just fantasized about bodily removing. The splatter of blood would look rather arresting against the pale wallpaper, but he tamped his more violent instincts down.

Vexley was walking Camilla around like a prize. One he’d stolen, not won.

Envy was firmly of the thinking in the Seven Circles: when it came to the game of courtship, each person should want to play.

Vexley hadn’t given Camilla a choice—and from what Envy knew of the mortal customs, if she denied him, it would cause a scene.

And Miss Antonius didn’t appear to want to draw anyone’s eye for long tonight, for some reason. Though the deep hunter green of her silk gown matched Envy’s cravat and that kept holding his attention. Amid the sea of pastel-colored dresses skirting his peripheral vision, Camilla was a bold splash of darkness, intense and rich.

Despite his best effort not to notice, Camilla was beautiful.

Her silver hair had been curled delicately and clipped back from her face, showing off her pointed chin, her slender neck, and the simple yet stunning silver locket she wore that matched her eyes.

There was an elegance in the way she carried herself—her body made of the sort of delicate angles and swooping curves that begged to be captured on canvas. The way she moved now indicated that she wished to be as far from their host as possible.

Player or not—Envy still hadn’t decided—Vexley was making himself a complication in more ways than one. And Envy had no time to waste on fools.

Every day, his court weakened, a fault that was his alone.

Which was why he’d decided to go the more trusted route for this second attempt and seduce Camilla. It was purely a practical decision: it had nothing to do with how the candlelight was reflecting off her silver curls up ahead.

Envy offered his arm to the nearest woman—a vibrant redhead he briefly recalled had arrived with Camilla—and followed the procession down the corridor to the dining room.

“You’re the mysterious Lord Synton, I presume?” the redhead immediately asked.

“Is that what people are saying about me, Lady…?”

“Lady Katherine Edwards.”

He felt her gaze on him but kept his own locked on the procession of lords and ladies parading slowly toward the dining room. Envy fantasized about jabbing magical pokers at their asses to prod them along. Dinner hadn’t even started, and he was ready to leave.

“You’ve certainly made an impression,” she continued.

Envy glanced sidelong at Lady Edwards. “I do have that effect.”

She laughed, full and deep, drawing the attention of a dark-haired woman in front of them. The woman glanced back, surprising Envy with the open lust shining in her eyes.

Her focus shifted to Lady Edwards, and the dark-haired woman’s jealousy flared. He flashed a smile meant to intimidate and she averted her gaze.

“I see what my friend meant. You are trouble.”

His attention went to Camilla’s silver head at the front of the line. Lady Edwards was baiting him. And having entirely too much fun doing it.

But perhaps befriending her would put Camilla at ease. He allowed himself to don the mask of a charming but aloof noble.

“Tonight, I’d say I’m only slightly wicked, Lady Edwards.”

Envy was rather put off when he realized it was the truth.

He’d kept his flirting to a minimum, had only asked pointed questions that could help him with the game. And once Camilla had stepped into the room, he’d given her all his attention. Not wanting to appear too forward, he’d admired the most intriguing painting in the room, giving her five minutes before seeking her out. A perfect fucking gentleman, he thought with annoyance.