Viking flick one of her braids behind her shoulders. “I still can’t believe that he lost his house. Such a shame. From what I understand, he was the only one of the lords who actually knew how to pleasure a woman.”
“Not that his skill in bed made a difference.” Talons sighed, eying Ursula. “He was never going to marry again. I believe he never quite got over Elissa.”
Viking’s eyes widened. “I heard one of Borgerith’s ogres ripped his wings out. Two millennia, and he was felled by an idiot ogre.”
Ursula’s chest clenched. It was Abrax, you twats. Abrax ruined him.
Goth Princess took a sip of champagne. “I’m not sure it was a wise decision for Nyxobas to appoint him Sword in the first place. You all know his background, I’m sure.” She let her dark eyes wander to Ursula. “He was bound to snap at some point.”
Ursula’s face heated. This arsehole knows he hasn’t told me about his background. She is throwing some serious demon shade.
The princess cocked her head, staring right at Ursula. “Bael might be a legendary warrior, but he’s broken inside. Always has been.”
They all nodded, then clinked their glasses in some kind of fucked-up toast.
Please get me out of here. She was quickly getting the impression that it was going to be very difficult to get through the night without hurting someone. For Bael’s sake, she kept her mouth shut.
Viking stroked one of her braids. “Worst of all, my husband lost a third of his legion trying to drive Bael from his manor.”
Goth Princess twirled the delicate stem of her glass between her fingers. “A travesty we weren’t successful. Bael should have been sent to the void months ago—”
A loud banging from the dais interrupted her. All heads turned as Hothgar slammed his hammer down again, his eyes flicking to the Viking for just a moment.
“Tonight, the lords select their champions to determine who is worthy of Abelda mansion,” he roared. “But now, it is time to feast!”
Chapter 18
A crew of oneiroi waiters bustled into the hall, carrying silver platters laden with food. A waiter pushed one of the trays between Ursula and Goth Princess, and her gaze slid to the roasted meat, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. At least they know how to eat here.
Her mouth watered at the sight of meat and potatoes—and the bowls of luminescent mushroom soup.
The waiter placed a bowl in front of Ursula, and she breathed in the rich, earthy scent. It looked terrifying, but smelled amazing, and her mouth was already watering. As he dropped a bowl before Goth Princess, he leaned in to ask, “Would you like bottle of wine for the table?”
Goth Princess’s lip curled back from her fangs, and she snarled, “Would you like a bottle of wine for the table, milady.”
The waiter nodded frantically, avoiding eye contact. “Milady, I’m sorry—”
“Stop talking and fill my glass,” she snapped.
“Of course, milady.”
Ursula glared at her. Wanker. Too bad there would be no tournament between the women of this table.
Ursula focused all her energy on keeping her mouth shut. A waiter bustled around the table, slicing up the meat and serving it on plates. Ursula waited until Goth Princess began cutting into her food and then followed suit. The meat tasted as delicious as it smelled. Roast beef maybe? It wasn’t ham, she was certain.
Viking raised her hand, snapping her fingers at one of the waiters. She pointed to her plate. “Is it from Nyxobas’s stables?”
The waiter bowed. “Yes, milady. Strictly moth-fed around Asta, no supplements or additives.”
Ursula stopped mid-chew, her stomach turning. “What kind of meat is this?”
The waiter bowed again. “Milady, it’s bat-shoulder. Just slaughtered this afternoon.” He flashed a proud smile.
She swallowed the lump of flesh in her mouth. Maybe I’ll just stick to the mushroom soup.
She lifted a spoonful into her mouth, savoring the woodsy, garlicky flavor. Perfect.
She tried not to stare at Viking, who ripped through the bat-shoulder with the terrifying ferocity of a pit bull. Maybe it’s for the best we’re not part of a tournament.
Talons leaned across the table, her eyes locked on Goth Princess. “How was your vacation on Earth?”
“Glorious. We rented a little cottage on a private atoll in the Maldives. The water was amazing—beautiful night swimming. The locals were delicious.”
“I’m so jealous,” Viking cut in. “Hothgar’s idea of romance is drinking five pints of blood and asking me to watch him rut with a human in a hayloft. He likes to control their minds, you know. Make them supplicate themselves before him. He makes them call him Nyxobas and praise his lunar staff.”
“We know,” said Talons. “The entire Shadow Realm knows.”
Goth Princess shrugged. “Abrax does that, too. It’s just what demon males do. Especially incubi, of course. He can’t get enough of his little human playthings.”