As she crossed to the bar, Ursula forced a smile. “All better.” Until he severs my head from my body. No. He wouldn’t do that. He’d said a painful death, and that wasn’t painful enough.
Ursula took a seat at the bar beside Cera and pulled a plate in front of her. She bit into the fresh bread, and the lightly salted mushroom flesh. Her fight against the caterpillars had certainly given her an appetite.
Cera chewed thoughtfully, her eyes glistening. She seemed subdued today. After a few moments, she turned to Ursula. “I don’t like the thought of you dueling against the lord. There is no way for this to end well.”
A sharp pang pierced Ursula’s chest. Cera was right. She shrugged. “At least he said he’d kill me swiftly, if it came down to it.”
Unless he figures out I’m his intruder.
Cera nodded.
“Would you describe him as a merciful sort?” asked Ursula. Like, is he likely to go back on his swift death promise if he gets mad enough? Will he be stabbing me to death with my own ribs.
Cera tilted her head. “To his enemies? Not particularly.”
Wonderful. She took another bite of her sandwich.
Cera frowned at her. “You seem awfully relaxed.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The duel is in two hours.”
Panic clenched Ursula’s heart, and she jumped up. “What? The fight is in two hours?” she practically shouted. “I thought I had twelve hours or something. I can’t read the bloody lunar clock.”
“Relax,” said Cera, nodding at the bag on the floor. “I cleaned and re-stitched your fighting gear.”
Ursula’s pulse began to race, and she stripped out of her nightgown. It took her only a few minutes to slip into the reinforced leather.
Her hands trembled as she buttoned up the corset. “Thanks, Cera.”
Sadness shone in Cera’s eyes. “Will you kill the lord?”
A lump rose in Ursula’s throat. “If I have to. I know you care for him.”
“It’s not just that.” Cera bit her lip, one of her sharp teeth piercing the skin. “If you kill him. Will you keep me as your servant?”
“Of course!” She touched Cera’s shoulder. “Or at least, I’ll make sure you’re safe. I’ll take you with me back to New York.”
Cera wrapped her arms around Ursula, squeezing her. “Thank you. Otherwise, the other lords would probably kill me.”
Ursula pulled away from Cera, looking her in the eye. “There will always be a home for you in New York. You’ve seen where I live. If both Bael and I die, take Sotz and fly there. Tell Zee you were my friend. She’ll look out for you.”
“Thank you.” Cera squeezed her hand. “But I’d like you to find a way for neither of you to die.”
Ursula’s heart ached. She couldn’t help but feel that she’d already witnessed her fate—Bael, shoving a blade into her heart. The life leaving her eyes, her jaw slackening, lips turning blue. Red hair stamped into the dirt. Dread coiled around her heart.
Her gaze flicked to the door where she kept her katana, but the sword wasn’t there. Her pulse began to race. “Where’s my sword?”
“I saw the lord take it,” Cera said softly.
A hot tendril of rage coiled through Ursula’s body. “I’m going to be in a fight to the death in less than two hours, and Bael has taken my only weapon?” Angry heat warmed her cheeks. “I thought he was trying to help me. He helped me in the melee. He trained me to shadow run.”
“Don’t get too upset. You’ll have to think clearly in the fight.”
“What fight?” she shouted. “He just left me without a weapon? What was the point of everything he’s done? Why not just kill me in the melee instead of giving me two weeks of false hope? What kind of person does that?”
Of course, he wasn’t a person. He was a demon—a predator. He’d told her as much.
Was he even capable of human-like emotions? Love or empathy? Or was he like all the other demon lords deep down—driven by a dark impulse to conquer and dominate? To screw with people’s heads for sport?
Surely, if he kept his wife’s wedding ring around his neck, he must have loved her. Ursula pointed at the spot on the wall where his wife’s portrait had hung. “Cera, you know the portrait of that woman that used to hang there?”
“Elissa, yes. The lord’s wife.”
“What happened to her?”
Cera’s face blanched, and she looked at the floor. “He wouldn’t want me to tell you.”
“Tell me.” Ursula’s stomach turned. “I need to know.”
Cera’s eyes glistened. “She died.”
“I know that. But how?”
“Stabbed, I think. With a sword.”
A growing sense of dread crept up Ursula’s throat. “Who stabbed her?”
Cera spoke so softly, Ursula nearly didn’t hear. “The lord.”
“Bael?”
Cera nodded mutely, and Ursula’s world tilted. Her heart thumped hard, and she ran upstairs, snatching the silver ring from its spot on the dresser. Frantically, she rubbed it between her fingers.
But this time, it brought her no relief.
As Cera called for her, she ran out the door.
Chapter 44