Throne of the Fallen

“Your collection is all quite impressive, Prince Sloth.”

He pursed his lips, and Camilla wondered what she’d said that had displeased him.

“Pardon me, Your Highness. If I’ve overstepped—”

“You haven’t, Miss Antonius.” He gave her a warm smile. “I go by Lo. Please do away with any formalities. Only my brothers call me Sloth, and it’s typically to get a rise out of me.”

Lo guided her down a long, winding corridor that was easily twice the size of her town house. He paused before the next hallway, glancing up at the plaque.

HABENTIS MALEFICIA.

Witchcraft.

“Some wings are more… sentient. They often rearrange themselves—nothing too disconcerting. Windows and doors switch places, furniture changes. One hour you might find a settee, the next a barstool. Sometimes spells we investigate go awry. Witchcraft doesn’t come easily to demons.”

“Do you do much investigating?” Camilla asked.

Lo lifted a shoulder, shrugging noncommittally.

“My court dabbles in a little of this and a little of that. We enjoy being well-rounded.”

Which was demon evasion for yes, she thought wryly. Maybe he hadn’t written her off as a threat quite yet.

“Would you be able to find something out of its place?” she asked, thinking of the game.

“Of course; we keep strict records of each and every chamber.”

Records were wonderful, but they’d still need to search through each room. And that could take a lifetime, she was realizing.

They continued into the next corridor, each one more impressive than the last.

Instead of hardwood, this floor was made of what appeared to be black marble with deep crimson specks.

Lo caught her curious stare.

“Heliotrope. More commonly known as bloodstone. It’s mined from just outside Malice Isle. The seat of the royal vampire court.”

He didn’t elaborate and Camilla didn’t press. She’d heard whispers in the dark market of the vampire prince—it was said he always heard his true name when it was spoken aloud, no matter where or when—and she did not wish to draw his attention if those rumors were true.

“Most ladders are enchanted,” Lo said. “Simply call for one and direct it where you’d like to go.” At her surprised look, he added, “We are quite capable of physically moving ladders, of course, but why not enchant if one can? We may prefer mind over brawn, but don’t forget, we are demons. House Sloth will battle just as ruthlessly as any other House of Sin.”

He’d said it so casually one could almost miss the underlying threat.

“Duly noted, Lo. I have always believed that the mind is more fearsome than the sharpest blade. It alone can devise many ways to cut an enemy down.”

Camilla had not fallen into the trap of believing he was simply a harmless book aficionado, but she could understand how others would. Easily.

She wondered if that made him even more dangerous.

How many others had foolishly underestimated the Prince of Sloth? Had mistaken his penchant for reading all day for laziness instead of what it truly was—honing the best weapon in his arsenal: his mind.

If knowledge was power in this circle, then the prince standing before her, hands tucked carefully into his pockets, dripped with it.

He gazed back at her with the precision of a scientist, and Camilla knew there was no detail he missed, no subtlety or nuance overlooked or cast aside.

Lo was not a lazy, slothful male by any means.

He was infinitely patient. Calculating. Wickedly intelligent. Lo took his time, studying until he was satisfied with all potential outcomes.

If he was currently without a partner and sought one out, God help the person he fell for. Camilla knew he’d leave no stone unturned as he investigated them to the fullest degree, plotting and planning his seduction so well they wouldn’t stand a chance.

Not that anyone would want to. Underneath that unassuming appearance lurked a warrior just as deadly and ferocious as his brothers.

“Your guest suite is just down the next corridor.” His expression had returned to indifference as he continued at a leisurely pace. “Please make yourself at home. My brother will likely turn up within the next hour or two.”

Camilla bit her lip, stalling.

“Might I be permitted to look around more?”

Lo drew up short, eyeing her closely. “What subject are you interested in?”

She wondered if he knew about the game, how much she should reveal.

“Honestly, I’m looking for a clue. It’s for—”

“Envy’s newest game, of course.” Lo sighed. “I’m not sure how you’ve gotten involved with it, but you seem like a good person. Don’t let Envy’s obsession with winning just to boast about it destroy you. These games are seldom worth the price.”

That didn’t feel true, from what Camilla had seen. Envy was driven, focused, yes—but his intensity didn’t seem like something frivolous. He hadn’t told her otherwise, but she’d begun to suspect the game meant more than Envy was letting on. To anyone.

Instead of drawing suspicion to that, she asked the question that had become the most nagging and persistent. Which she immediately wished she could take back.

“Is your brother… attached?”

“Aside from what he calls his curiosities, my brother doesn’t form attachments.”

“Ever?”

Lo cocked his head to one side, considering.

“Envy hasn’t told you of his rule.”

It wasn’t a question, so Camilla didn’t answer.

Sympathy entered Lo’s expression.

“Envy spends only one night with a lover. No matter what you feel, or what you think he might feel, that will not change, Miss Antonius. My brother is incapable of change.”

Envy hadn’t told her that part outright, but thinking back on that night in Kitty’s house… he’d told her it was only that evening. Their secret. The fact that they hadn’t slept together meant their one night technically wasn’t over. Which made her mind spin with possibilities.

“Because his heart was broken before?”

“Because his sin will not allow him to be satisfied with what he has,” Lo said gently. “Envy will always desire something new. Until he gets it. Then he is envious of the next item he covets, the next person claimed by someone else. He’ll pursue you, become wildly territorial until he successfully captures you, then toss you aside. He isn’t cruel. He’s simply ruled by his sin like we all are.”

Camilla wanted to cast the warning aside but thought of Vexley. Of how quickly Envy had despised him. She’d thought it was about defending her. But if Lo was to be believed…

“You’re saying there was never any heartbreak?”

“I never said that.” Lo’s smile was a slow twist of his lips. “If you want my advice, guard your heart and forget my brother. He is content with his games and riddles and plots.”

It was a warning meant to dissuade her, but it had the opposite effect. Camilla liked those things too. Each day, lately, she liked them more and more.

A servant made his way toward them, a bookish demon wearing spectacles. His pace was unhurried.

He handed a note to the prince, then bowed.