Throne of the Fallen

Part 4 – Deception is the Most Wicked Game of All

SURPRISINGLY, ENVY WASN’T the one who ended their night.

Camilla rode him two more times on his throne, calling his true name every time she came. Backward and forward, her appetite insatiable.

Each time she said his true name, something inside him wound tighter. He should have felt the tension easing after the first time they made love. It didn’t abate as he imagined it would.

He’d bent her over the damn throne, stroking and teasing and worshipping every inch of her body until she snapped at him to fuck her again.

Still… the want, the need, persisted.

They’d gone to his bedroom suite—so he could monitor what she saw in his House while his court was unpredictable, and so he could devour her on his mattress one more time.

One more time led to three more times. Her coming on his tongue, him on hers.

They were currently sprawled on top of his sheets, her legs tangled up with his, his fingers stroking the length of her arms, as he considered what had gone wrong.

Late-morning sunlight slanted into the room, signaling that their night had been over hours before. It was well past the time he’d normally feel sated.

Camilla pressed a kiss to his palm, then rolled to face him.

“It’s morning.”

His attention flicked to hers, amusement lacing his tone. “I do comprehend what the sun indicates, pet.”

Her gaze narrowed. “We need to get out of bed.”

He pulled her on top of him, nuzzling her neck.

“Soon.”

Camilla kissed him, softly at first, then succumbed to the gentle tease of his tongue against the seam of her lips. He was hard again, ready. They could definitely spare another hour before they left. He’d clearly deprived himself of carnal pleasures for too long. It was the most reasonable explanation for his thirst for her.

She pushed herself up, bracing against his torso.

“It’s time to get up, Envy. We need to go to the Twin Pillars.”

He gave her an annoyed look. “It’s Envy again, is it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she challenged. “Did you expect something else?”

He raked a hand over his face. “No.”

“Lie.”

He looked her over. “Fae cannot sense lies like demons can.”

“Perhaps not, but I can read your face well enough by now.” She scrutinized him much too closely. “You’re not satisfied.”

“Incorrect. I am much too satisfied. Hence the issue.”

Camilla didn’t speak for a long moment, the tension growing uncomfortably thick as she stared down at him. It would have been less irksome if his cock hadn’t been twitching against her body every time her gaze flicked over him.

“We agreed to one night,” she finally said. “Is that something you want to renegotiate?”

“Of course not.” Envy sat up, carefully lifting her and setting her down on the bed. “I’ll never break my rule, Miss Antonius. Don’t confuse my arousal for romance. I simply enjoy your tight, wet cunt.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flaring with challenge.

He knew he’d gone too far.

“We’ll see, then, won’t we.” Her smile was pure malice. “I’m sure you’ll be completely unaffected if I should run into Wolf again. Perhaps I’ll allow him to enjoy my tight, wet cunt for the rest of our long, immortal lives. At least he doesn’t act like one.”

His jealousy ignited in a blaze.

Before he could call her back, apologize, Camilla stormed into his bathing chamber, grabbing the new dress he’d magicked for her on the way.

She slammed the door hard enough to rattle the portrait on his ceiling. The one she’d eyed with mirth instead of lust earlier.

Envy fell back onto the bed, cursing. He was a miserable prick.

It had been hours since Envy had been inside Camilla, an hour since their fight, and the craving still hadn’t abated. If anything, it had worsened. Especially after he relived each of their encounters, his mind pausing when she’d suggested they move to his throne.

He knew exactly what that had been about, and she’d been correct. Envy would never sit on it again without picturing her round little bottom bouncing with each thrust, silver hair gleaming like the dagger it was, aimed straight to his heart.

She’d skewered him with her cunning. She’d owned him on his damn throne.

And he liked it.

Camilla was dangerous. She made Envy want things he shouldn’t.

After she’d left him hard and wanting in bed, all but calling him the cunt he’d been, he reminded himself of the game. His goal.

His court.

And the mistake he’d made that continued to punish him.

He needed to move on from their night. Focus.

Perhaps Camilla was the ultimate test.

If Envy didn’t win, he would no longer have a court.

And that would be exactly the sort of thing Lennox would want. To first see the vampire court in chaos, quickly followed by Envy’s circle falling.

No matter what conflicted feelings he felt at the moment, Envy wouldn’t lose sight of his goal now.

Which was why they were now standing in the antechamber of a throne room that didn’t belong to him, awaiting entry.

He slanted a look in Camilla’s direction. She stood beside him, spine straight, keeping her attention on the double doors, probably admiring the carvings. She’d worn Envy’s House colors without argument, even after the frustrating end to their night.

The gown he’d magicked was deep hunter-green silk bordering on black. It showed more skin than the styles she was used to in the mortal realm, but she never seemed put off by that.

Modesty was coveted by humans, but she shed that easily, adapting to her surroundings and true Fae nature.

In fact, the longer she remained in the Seven Circles, the less the societal restraints of Waverly Green seemed to hold her prisoner. She would thrive in his world, should she choose to stay and stop pretending she was something less than. But Envy wasn’t sure how well he’d react, knowing she was close by, likely falling for someone else. It was selfish, given that he would never invite her to his bed again. Still…

Camilla looked like a royal standing there, shoulders back, gaze bordering on cruel. He’d told her briefly how they should act, the role they needed to play in rival courts.

He sensed her excitement, though she gave no outward indication of her emotions.

She wore the emerald-and-diamond ring he’d given her back in Waverly Green. Neither one of them commented on it. He’d offered her an emerald necklace, too, but she’d declined, choosing her silver locket instead.

The royal announcer stepped into the chamber.

“His Majesty and the queen will see you.”

Envy adopted his cold, royal expression. A new game was about to begin. The game of posturing and court politics, of provoking and winning.

Without looking at Camilla, he followed the announcer into his brother’s gleaming chamber, Gothic and elegant, made to seduce and intimidate. Camilla’s steps were steady and sure beside him, and he wished he could see her face as she took in the throne room.

He did a subtle sweep, trying to view it as she might.

Black marble floors with pale gold veining, a towering arched ceiling, columns in even intervals, carved from a deep gray stone; stained-glass windows allowed light to trickle in, casting muted colors along the chamber.

Massive black gemstone chandeliers hung like watchful demons, hovering thirty feet above them. Gold weapons decorated the walls, while fierce serpent sconces spit fire.

A dark burgundy runner spanned the length of the room, a trail of blood leading to the dais and the demon king sitting there with his queen.

That dais was carved from opaque gemstone that looked like frozen smoke; the very same stone was found in the void between realms.

Two matching thrones sat at the top, intimidating champagne bronze serpents curved around black leather, thorny vines twined around the serpents’ bodies.

A nod to both regents’ power.

Envy fought the urge to glance at Camilla, wondering what she thought of his war-loving brother. Wrath radiated subtle menace, his power rumbling even while under control.

Envy supposed his brother might also be wound up because Envy winked suggestively at his wife.

Emilia shook her head, lips twitching. She knew exactly what Envy had done, knew he’d needled Wrath for the thrill of it. What she didn’t realize was that Envy needed to stoke his jealousy. He needed to pull as much power to himself as possible; his court was spiraling, and he was extending too much energy keeping them together.

He hadn’t fully restored himself since the vampire battle, and he’d need to do so before they left here. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be helpful to Camilla or his court.

Camilla stiffened beside him, and he silently cursed himself for not mentioning that this was Vittoria’s twin.

“Lady Emilia,” he said, smiling so that his dimples showed. Wrath looked ready to launch himself out of the throne. But Camilla relaxed. “You received my gift?”

The queen blushed. “I cannot believe you sent that.”

“Fear not. The original still hangs above my bed. I had it replicated for you. Just in case you grow tired of your husband and want a little excitement.”

Envy turned to Camilla, his expression mischievous.

“You’ve seen the life-sized portrait above my bed. A few months ago, Lady Emilia was given leave to use it as a stimulating visual when she was fighting with my brother. He’s envious that my cock is so legendary.”

Wrath sat forward, eyeing their exchange with interest. “You spent the night together.”

Envy’s teeth ground together audibly. “Yes.”

Wrath and Emilia glanced at each other, a silent conversation playing out. Envy practically saw them plotting right there in front of him. Some people clearly needed to stick their noses in other people’s business to have any form of excitement in their lives.

Camilla looked Envy over coldly, then said, “Perhaps I should offer the king a portrait of his own. It only seems fair.”

Envy stared at her. She’d gone and stoked his sin. Then he realized why. Even though Camilla knew this wasn’t Vittoria, she was still unhappy with his gift.

He opened his senses, and Camilla’s envy hit him hard. He silently cursed.

“I’ve never fucked Emilia, or tried to,” he said. “Else she’d be my princess.”

He couldn’t resist adding that last part; his brother’s fury and envy exploded.

Envy drew it in, filling his power to the brim. Even if Wrath punched him, it would be worth it for the massive envy he’d sent out into the chamber.

Wrath’s glittering, night-colored wings—once wrenched away from him by magic—shot out, the span of them meant to intimidate. Once upon a time they’d been silver-tipped white flame—a weapon he’d wielded in battle time and again.

Camilla still wore the cold, cruel expression she had earlier. Barely sparing Wrath and his wings a second glance. This time, however, there was an edge in her tone.

She was well and truly pissed off at Envy.

“Do you always share nude images with other women?” she asked.

For a moment, Envy had nothing to say.

“I like her, dear brother.” Emilia laughed, breaking the tension. “You must be Miss Camilla Antonius. I’m so happy to meet you. It’s about time someone gave Envy a bit of hell.”

“A pleasure, Your Majesty. Please call me Camilla.”

“How are you liking the Seven Circles?” Emilia asked.

Some of the tension in Camilla’s stance loosened. She gave Emilia a tentative smile. “Aside from meeting your twin last night, it’s been interesting.”

“I can imagine.”

“So.” Envy clapped once, drawing everyone’s attention back. “Now that we’ve established that Emilia hasn’t had the pleasure of riding my massive cock, I do have a request.”

“Whatever it is, my answer is no.” Wrath was not amused.

His wings beat softly in warning. Their inky color nearly faded into the background of the chamber. Shadows upon shadows. It was odd to see them without the flames.

Envy knew how much Wrath had loved them, how they’d been part of his very being. It was a testament to how much he loved his wife that the wings were now ebony. Through the careful sleuthing of his spies, Envy knew it was a price Wrath had paid so Emilia didn’t have to.

A twinge of jealousy twisted through Envy. His wings had also been taken, along with the rest of their brothers’. Until his court was settled and returned to its full glory, Envy didn’t have the power to summon his. They were there for the taking, but to unleash them for the first time… the magic involved would take too much from his battle to keep his court intact. With the ward, holding his court’s minds… he had no power to spare for his wings.

“I need access to the Twin Pillars.”

Wrath stared at him hard. “No.”

“The game leads there.”

“My answer stands.”

Envy and Wrath stared each other down. A slow rumble shook the floor. Wrath’s anger was manifesting. Envy’s own sin growled a low warning in return.

“I’m asking nicely”—Envy’s voice was quiet—“but I’ll get there one way or another. You cannot bar me from them.”

“As they sit below my House of Sin, that’s exactly what I can—and will—do.”

Envy took a step toward the dais; Camilla’s hand came down on his arm, forestalling him. It would not be good for the realm if either of them unleashed themselves.

Emilia cleared her throat.

“Where are the Pillars?” the queen asked.

Wrath looked inclined to keep his mouth shut, but never resisted his wife. “The entry is in the Crescent Shallows.”

Her brows rose.

Interesting that she hadn’t known that. Envy kept silent. Emilia was the living embodiment of fury, and he didn’t need to use his senses to see that Wrath had stoked her sin.

“What other surprises do we house here?” Her voice was low with warning.

Wrath shot his brother a look that promised vengeance. “Nothing.”

Envy snorted, holding his hands up when Emilia glared.

“What do you know?” she demanded.

Envy considered his next move carefully.

“You recall the afternoon in the garden?”

That afternoon he’d stolen her magic after she’d stolen a book of spells he’d left for her.

Emilia’s puzzled expression smoothed out. She shuddered. “That terrible, keening howl. You told me not to be curious.”

He nodded. “You still shouldn’t be, especially now. Abyssus guards the path to the Twin Pillars. Abyssus feasts on goddess blood; placing him there was a means to keep unwanted deities away from the Fae.”

“Why don’t I know about this?” Emilia’s gaze was on her husband. “From… before.”

Wrath looked ready to shove his fist down Envy’s throat.

Envy would love to see his brother try.

Camilla’s grip on Envy’s arm tightened in warning. Wrath could be intimidating when he wished to be. But he didn’t think she was staying his movements because of that.

Envy cut a cruel smirk his brother’s way but didn’t advance on him. “Keeping secrets from a vengeance goddess isn’t a wise idea.”

Wrath blew out a slow breath, trying to wrangle his temper. “It’s not something anyone outside my court is supposed to know.”

Envy’s spies were well worth the gold and sin he supplied them with.

“I don’t need to enter the tunnel from your House,” Envy said. “We’ll use the entrance in the fountain.”

“No.” Wrath’s tone was harder than his look. “I don’t want you anywhere near the Well of Memory.”

Envy’s frustration had him taking a threatening step closer. A move his brother did not miss. “I will swear a blood vow to leave your precious well untouched. I just need access to the Twin Pillars. That’s all.”

“Your issue, not mine, Levi.”

“It’s the most direct path there.”

“But not the only one,” Wrath said, mouth set into a firm, unyielding line.

Envy’s pulse roared, but he kept his face free from the strain. Wrath would not budge on this. Envy turned to Emilia, playing his last hand.

“Do I still have the queen’s favor?”

After her coronation, they’d spoken about her potentially being in his debt. He didn’t really mean it then, but he’d call in a favor now. Even if it meant burning one more bridge, destroying the friendship before it had a chance to truly begin.

Emilia, for her part, seemed amused.

Envy realized she was all too pleased to annoy her husband—his anger would be taken out in the bedroom, where they both could enjoy it. He only hoped they waited until after Envy and Camilla left their circle.

“I do recall saying it sounded ominous,” Emilia said. “But I cannot give you my favor just yet. My husband and I will discuss the matter and send for you once we reach an agreement.”

Wrath’s nostrils flared with his sin. He did not want to permit Envy to use the tunnel, but Emilia was not a submissive partner. They could be arguing for hours. And the bastard would enjoy every glorious second of it.

“There’s a bedroom suite set up with refreshments for you,” Wrath said.

With a jerk of his chin, the king of demons dismissed them.

Hours later, with still no word from his gods-damned brother, Envy was practically crawling up the walls. Camilla sat perched on the end of a settee, sipping tea, lips curved in obvious delight.

Envy shot her an exasperated look.

“Am I amusing, Miss Antonius?”

“Wildly so.”

“Glad to be a diversion,” he muttered, feeling downright ornery.

“I can think of more stimulating ways to pass the time.”

Envy drew up short, breath catching.

One look at Camilla confirmed she was playing with him, testing the truth of his one-night rule. He paced around the perimeter of the room, jaw locked.

Now that she’d said it, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the stimulating ways they’d distracted each other last night and a few hours ago this morning.

His frustration grew. He damn well should not be considering touching her again. Ever.

“You are twisted, pet.”

“What can I say?” Amusement laced her tone. “You bring out the very best in me.”

He expelled a breath, part huff, part laughter. The problem wasn’t his one-night rule, the issue was that Envy liked Camilla. Far beyond her body. Her clever mind, her wit… she challenged him in ways that stimulated his need to solve riddles, to strategize. To win.

And now she was using those same tactics to toy with him.

“Fuck.”

Envy caught his reflection in a mirror hanging between two towering shelves of weapons. His eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, and his hair was a complete and utter mess. He’d raked his hand through it so many times he looked on the verge of madness.

Or maybe he looked feverish.

“That was the suggestion,” Camilla mocked, her tone silky.

His eyes squeezed shut. He wondered what he’d done to deserve such sweet and vicious punishment. This new game Camilla was playing was downright dirty.

John Lyly, a mortal author of the 1500s, once wrote, “The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war,” making Envy believe he must have battled Camilla at one time.

The poor bastard never stood a chance.

Finally, a sharp knock came at the door.

Envy almost wrenched the door from its hinges as he tugged it open.

Instead of a royal guard or servant, Emilia stood there, brow arched high.

“Are you all right?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“Do I still have your favor or not, Emilia? Time is one thing I cannot steal more of.”

She pressed her lips together, rose-gold eyes studying him carefully. He knew she was concerned, that she’d sensed there was more happening below the surface. His sister-in-law always seemed to see through some of his masks. But not all.

He kept his expression impassive, waiting. Camilla came to stand beside him, and he fought the urge to reach for her hand. Emilia’s gaze fixed on him before she nodded.

“Yes. You still have my favor.”

Her rose-gold gaze shifted to Camilla. Something soft flashed in her expression, something that looked like hope. Or perhaps happiness.

“I grant permission for you to seek out the Pillars.”

“You’ve always been my favorite sister-in-law.”

“I’m your only sister-in-law.” She rolled her eyes. “But… Wrath had one condition that wasn’t negotiable.”

Envy’s smile froze on his face. He knew, before she twisted the knife, what his meddling, gods-damned brother would have demanded.

“You must use the path that cuts through the Crescent Shallows.”

Envy silently called his brother every cursed, foul name he could think of. In every language he spoke. Twice. The Crescent Shallows were precisely what he’d wanted to avoid.

The water was magical—it forced whomever entered it to speak only the truth.

Nothing made could enter the water without causing death. Which included clothing. Envy would need to wade into the magical water nude with Camilla. And if she asked any question, he’d be compelled to offer truth.

As if this journey weren’t hard enough.

Emilia clasped Envy’s hands in hers, squeezing gently.

“Don’t be an ass to your lady. Or there will be no more cannoli in your future.”

He scoffed but didn’t remark. They had been delicious. And he couldn’t deny liking that Camilla was seen as his. Even if it was fleeting, or untrue.

Emilia smiled warmly at Camilla.

“I hope to see you again, Camilla. Next time we’ll leave the demons to brood and battle on their own.”

“That sounds wonderful; I look forward to it.”

Envy kept his mouth shut. After the game ended, Camilla would return to Waverly Green. There was no point ruining the moment with the truth, though, so he silently watched Emilia and Camilla make plans, knowing it would never be.

Emilia turned to him, then pulled a vial from saints only knew where.

“Here. You’ll need this.”

He looked it over, then smiled at the goddess. She’d given him a gift for Abyssus.

“You really are my favorite.”

“Go. Before my husband levels a mountain. Again.”

A guard escorted Envy and Camilla down to the cavern far below House Wrath.

It would have been much faster and more efficient if Envy could have magicked them there, but Wrath’s generosity had been pushed to its limit.

Once they reached the tunnel, the guard stopped and stepped aside. “You may go the rest of the way on your own. Orders of the king.”

“How magnanimous,” Envy muttered, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Camilla strode ahead of him, silent since they’d left the suite. He didn’t note any lingering jealousy, nor did he sense any anger. Her emotions were tightly wound, flickering too quickly for him to get a solid understanding of what she was feeling.

Perhaps she was just taking everything in, cataloguing each aspect to use as inspiration.

A moment later the tunnel opened to the cavernous lagoon.

Black sand glittered, and pale blue water lapped lazily at the shore. Mist hung low, inviting and unassuming. Its entire appearance was designed to entice, then entrap.

The phases of the moon were painted along the far wall, indicating the next tunnel hidden behind a large stalactite.

“It’s so beautiful. The water sounds… it’s fizzing.”

Envy grabbed Camilla’s hand, tugging her back before she stepped into the water.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Why?”

He nodded toward the bones she’d missed, jutting up farther down the sand.

“Nothing made can enter the water.”

“Nothing made?” she repeated, brows knitted. “You mean…”

“We need to disrobe to cross it. And remove anything else that isn’t natural. Like your jewelry.”

“Oh?” Camilla asked, slowly raking her attention over him.

His hands fisted at his side as he drew up an image of his court, of the bodies. Shame burned through him, more potent than any temptation or desire. No matter that he was a being fueled by and created for sin, he wouldn’t allow the Shallows to tempt him.

Or Camilla.

He decided against sharing the fact that the lagoon’s waters compelled anyone who entered—and survived—to tell only the truth.

Demon princes weren’t exempt from the magical properties of the Crescent Shallows. It was magic that existed outside them.

“What happens when we emerge on the other side?” Camilla asked, looking back at the water. “We’ll have to travel nude the rest of the way?”

Her tone was more curious than nervous. If anything, she sounded intrigued by the thought, a little breathless. His Fae artist wanted to travel naked. Devil curse him.

He could lie and claim they’d need to remain naked, admiring the masterpiece that was Camilla’s unclothed form as they wound deeper into the underground labyrinth.

“I’ll magic our clothing to the next tunnel.”

Camilla faced him, expression inscrutable, then kicked off her shoes.

She slipped her gown off her shoulders, gracefully stepping out of it, the silk pooling at her feet. She had nothing on underneath.

He swallowed hard, caught by surprise. Not by her nakedness, but by the knowing gleam in her gaze. Camilla was definitely playing another game of her own, making rules up as she went.

Long silver hair glimmered in the dim lighting of the Shallows, covering her breasts. She looked like a nymph who’d sprung from the magical lake, tempting and wicked.

He would know. She was tempting him, and he was feeling especially wicked.

Envy motioned to her hand and body, his voice rough.

“Take your ring and necklace off too.”

“Very well.”

She turned around, lifting her hair and glancing over her shoulder, knowing exactly what she was doing. He tried—and failed—to ignore her taut backside.

“Unclasp my necklace?”

Envy drew in a ragged breath, swearing.

Her lips curved.

He moved to her, fighting the urge to run his knuckles along her spine. He wanted to kiss her. But their time had passed. He had her necklace off in less than a second, then stepped back.

Camilla said nothing of his hasty retreat, though amusement flickered in her eyes.

She pulled the ring off, slowly bent over in front of him, laid it carefully on top of her gown, taking far too long to complete the task before straightening up again. Her gaze locked with his, daring him to hold it, daring him to look away from her.

Envy had been wrong when he thought the Sin Corridor had tortured him.

This was much worse.

And it shouldn’t be.

He shucked his clothes off, trying to focus on the task in front of them. He refused to get hard now. No matter how difficult avoiding that currently was.

“Come on.”

Camilla grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the water.

He followed, barely noticing the slight fizz of warm water against his skin, then stopped.

Camilla fearlessly strode out to her waist, then dove under, emerging several feet away. She flipped her wet hair back, laughing. Her eyes shone moon-bright, reflecting in the lagoon.

“This feels incredible!” She treaded water. “Come join me, Your Highness.”

Envy considered the lagoon. Water lapped at his calves, tempting, fizzing—a million tiny bubbles bursting over his skin. They had no choice but to wade across it to reach the tunnel that led to Abyssus. Magic was forbidden until the waters had gotten their taste.

He took another step, the water encircling his knees.

He hadn’t gone more than a few feet before he paused, sensing he was in trouble.

“Do you want to swim with me?” Camilla asked.

He was compelled to give her the truth.

“Yes.”

Her smile was dazzling, bright enough to rival the most brilliant star in the night sky.

“After last night,” she said, swimming closer, “do you still crave me?”

His throat closed, his teeth clamping together. Envy glanced back at the shore, wanting to plunge himself back to the safety of the sand. It was no use.

“Yes.” His mind raced; he needed to get to the other side of the damn lagoon. He flashed Camilla a wolfish grin. “Do you still crave me, Miss Antonius?”

Camilla dragged her teeth across her lower lip, brows knitting. It looked like she was trying to force a lie out and suddenly realized she couldn’t.

She waded back, glowering. “Yes.”

He swam out deeper, fortifying his will. Repeating his rule in his head.

He would not touch her again. Would not kiss her.

But he liked that she still craved him. That he wasn’t alone in his cursed desire.

He swam closer, gaze locked on her as he circled her.

“Do you like me, Camilla?” he asked softly. “Do you enjoy my company?”

She splashed water at him, her mouth puckering before she released the truth.

“Yes. And yes.” She splashed him once more for good measure. “And I also hate you.”

She drifted away from him, then fired off a question of her own. “Is your court in peril? Is that why you’re playing the game?”

He inhaled sharply, realizing he was near the center of the lagoon now. Warm fizzing water lapped at his shoulders, the magical compulsion too strong for him to bear.

“Yes. To both.”

Camilla was much too clever. He dove toward the other side of the lagoon.

They would swim across to the other side, put their clothes on, and be on their way.

Camilla was suddenly before him, reaching out. Stopping before they touched.

She looked him over, gaze searching. Gone was any hint of teasing. No more cunning game or strategic moves.

“Do you believe you’ll win?”

He swallowed a sudden lump his throat. His feelings were conflicted, the truth not easily accessible. He wanted to win. Would fight with all he had, give everything he had to win. But whether that mattered, he wasn’t sure. He pushed a hand through his wet hair.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to touch me?” she asked, softly. And he had an uncanny sense that she’d known he needed her to distract him. “Right now.”

He inhaled slowly, then exhaled.

“Yes.”

Before she could drag any more truth from him, she held her arms open, a half smile playing across her lips.

“What—”

“Follow my lead, Your Highness.”

Camilla surprised him by waltzing them around the water, dancing in the bath-warm lagoon like it was their own private ballroom. She held his hand tightly, laughing as they twirled, sending droplets of water flying against each other.

“See?” she asked, grinning. “You’re touching me.”

It wasn’t at all what he’d meant, and she knew it. Still, he couldn’t help but return her smile. Camilla had played her hand beautifully. He’d admitted to far more than what she’d truly been asking—she’d worded her question with Fae cunning.

A trait that made him like her all the more.

For a few brief moments, there was no game. No court in trouble. No rules to break.

There were only Envy and Camilla, pretending this was what life would always be. Dancing in magical lagoons, naked, and wild and free.

They danced with only the sound of the splashes and droplets as their music, their laughter and the echoes softly bouncing back to them.

Much too soon, Envy stepped back, pressed a kiss to her palm, then led them to the other shore. Daydreams were not real. And a nightmare still lay ahead.

“Dress quickly.” Envy summoned their clothing, then turned to give Camilla privacy.

“I sense Abyssus waiting for us.”