Throne of the Fallen

“Yes,” he said. “We’ll travel a bit farther to please the Corridor, then I’ll transvenio us to my brother’s circle as soon as I can. We should arrive by midmorning.”

“Transvenio,” she repeated quietly. “According to my father’s stories, that’s how demon princes travel between realms. Like shifting from one reality to the next. Which is how we arrived at the gates earlier. Correct?”

“Indeed.”

“Won’t we see your court first?”

He swallowed tightly. “There’s no time for a visit.”

He supposed he should send a missive to Sloth first before showing up unannounced, but to do so he’d need to stop at his House and await the royal admittance to the rival court, which meant Camilla would see the crumbling kingdom firsthand. Even if he brought her to his royal cottage on the outskirts of his grounds, too much could go wrong. Sloth would likely take his time responding, and that was the one thing Envy could not risk now: wasting any more time.

He allowed himself a brief fantasy of a different story unfolding. Of his House being robust, filled with life and art, and demons who collected all manner of objects and items to inspire his sin in their circle mates.

Envy wanted to see Camilla’s gaze sweep over everything when it was as glimmering and wondrous as it used to be. He wanted to know if she’d like his House, his galleries, his curiosities. His bedchamber.

And that was dangerous.

He shouldn’t want any of it.

She was quiet for a few moments.

“You said you’re playing a game… that’s what all of this is for. What’s at stake?”

Everything, he thought. “An artifact I covet,” he finally said. It was true enough.

“You’re doing all this for an artifact?” she asked. “It must be very important.”

He stared at the wooden ceiling, his jaw tight. They were getting too close to discussing his greatest mistake, especially here, where he’d once brought her.

Camilla rolled over to face him, but he didn’t look back at her. He couldn’t.

“Take off your cloak,” he said instead. When he sensed her surprise, he finally looked over and gestured at their exposed bodies. “We’ll use it as a blanket.”

Camilla gave him a long, silent once-over, but she did as he asked, and he helped her to wrap the edges of the garment around them. As a final act of chivalry, he pulled off his waistcoat, bundling it up to form a pillow he placed under her head.

As she settled back, even more snugly situated against his side, Envy decided to count backward from one thousand, focusing on his end goal.

He hated Lennox and his royal Unseelie Fae. Hated them beyond anything he’d hated before. He would not only see his court restored but would see Lennox’s Unseelie court obliterated in return. He’d toy with them all as Lennox had with him.

“Envy?” Camilla whispered, breaking his focus. He felt her stir under the cloak, and then a warmed finger emerged, which she reached over to run along his jaw.

He’d been gnashing his teeth.

He forced himself to relax.

“How many other players do you think there are? In this game?” she asked, removing her hand.

“Depends on how many others the game master has wronged. Could be five, or twenty. Or just down to two or three, by now.”

“What happens to the players who don’t solve their clues?”

“Their fate is decided by the game master. He can choose to let them leave peacefully, or he can kill them. Their lives are his from the moment they sign the blood oath.”

Camilla’s breath hitched. He finally dropped his attention to her. She was biting her lip, her expression pinched. He wanted to smooth the line between her brows but didn’t. No good would come from such tenderness.

“What if they don’t sign a blood oath? At the start?”

She looked worried, but he wasn’t sure why.

“As far as I know, everyone who plays has signed the oath. It’s what allows the game master to enforce the rules.”

“What do you think we’re looking for next?” she asked, rolling back over to look up at the ceiling now. “The riddle didn’t give us a real clue.”

He liked that she considered them a team.

Too much.

“My brother is quite the collector, and House Sloth is filled with books and artifacts. I imagine we’ll find the next clue in one of his libraries. We’ll just have to look for something that doesn’t belong.”

She rolled over to face him again, her expression wary.

“And this game master… I’ve heard the Fae play games. The Unseelie King in particular.”

Clever woman.

He debated indulging her again but couldn’t see the harm in admitting she was correct.

“They do. Lennox, the Unseelie King, is the game master.”

Camilla grew silent. He wondered what stories she’d heard of the Unseelie King. Wondered if she knew just how dangerous he was when he wanted something.

Envy suddenly did not want her getting tangled up in all that. “Sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Camilla had spun over to lie on her other side, and now she went still. He’d tried to respect her boundaries, ignoring his eagerness to spy on her feelings in this close space, but he couldn’t help himself—he opened that channel between them again, and clearly detected her irritation.

“You must be surrounded by demons who kiss your royal ass often,” she said suddenly, and he flinched. “Not everyone enjoys being ordered around.”

Gods’ bones. The woman drove him mad. Perhaps it was time to return the favor again, have a bit of fun before the search was back on.

“Normally, they’re kissing my cock.” Envy smiled as her jealousy swept through the cabin. “And they enjoy it very much when I order them around.”

She kept her back to him, pretending he no longer existed.

Her jealousy gave him something to focus on, something to enjoy. He didn’t like being back in this space, not after all that had happened. He couldn’t help but taunt her a little, to remind himself how different this situation was.

“In fact, I give all sorts of orders,” he said, shifting to stare at the ceiling, hands behind his head. “Some you might recall. Take off your clothes. Lie down. Spread your thighs.” He paused, and then said slowly, “Come for me.”

She swallowed audibly, her energy now tinged with arousal. Envy knew she was recalling that recent night in vivid detail.

“A good lover gives me orders too, pet. Would you like some examples?”

She cursed over her shoulder, telling him exactly where he could go. He rolled to the side again, facing her back, and dropped his voice into a seductive growl.

“Fuck me harder, deeper, faster. There. Don’t stop.” He was entirely too pleased by her sharp intake of breath. “I play along, Camilla, good and obedient for a time.”

“I am completely uninterested in your conquests, Your Highness.”

“Mm.” He knew that was true without using his senses. But he also knew she perversely enjoyed thinking about him doing each of those things to her.