Kingdom of the Cursed (Kingdom of the Wicked Book 2)

My beaded gown was extravagant. And heavy. Goddess above, I swore it almost weighed a quarter of my full body weight. A corset was built into the fitted top, and it was tight enough through the hips that I felt as if I’d been dipped in liquid gold. Metal sequins sewn in a series of geometric designs accentuated my curves. Hips, waist, bust. Each section boasted a mix of beads, sequins, and patterns designed to draw the eye.

I twisted in the mirror, admiring the hard work that went into making such a garment.

Champagne-colored silk whispered across my skin. The skirts split in the center, a few inches above my knees, and the beaded portion ruffled over pure, untouched silk. A shiny gold belt with vines and thorns brought an edge of danger to the beauty.

My mask… that was all House Wrath. I’d been informed that the princes could only wear wolf masks, and the rest of the assembly were free to wear whatever they’d like.

The half-mask I’d had made was tasteful. Dark gold with delicate lines of spun glitter, offering the barest hint of snakeskin. I’d left my hair loose and wild, adding a few gold clips to pull it back from my face. I’d just finished the final touches when Wrath walked into the room and halted.

I couldn’t stop the coy smile from lifting my lips as I tossed the needle and thread I’d been holding back into my sewing kit. “It will do, I think.”

His intense gaze strayed to the mask. “Where did you find that?”

I reached up, brushing my fingers against the cool metal. “A proper gentleman comments on his date’s beauty. Not where she found a mask.”

“Are you my date tonight?”

His tone held a note of teasing. Underneath I sensed a thread of tension, though. I tried not to think about where he was last night, why he never came to my room when he promised he would. I had no idea what Lust wanted but could guess the sort of entertainment he might seek and goad his brother into. The sudden tightening in my chest felt too much like hurt.

“You’re escorting me there.” I lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure what else to call you. If you’d like me to try, I can probably come up with a few choice descriptions.”

“Of that I have little doubt.”

I openly admired his suit. Ebony and gold—his waistcoat also featured snakeskin, except his was made entirely of metal, like chain-mail armor. “Expecting a battle?”

“Only if you ask me to fight off suitors.”

“Where’s your mask?”

He held out an arm. “Enjoy the mystery of it.”

“I am about to be subjected to the honor of having my biggest fear or a secret of my heart torn from me. Enjoying anything about this evening doesn’t feel realistic. I’d like to know what exactly to expect from each portion of the evening.”

“Dinner is next. And I’m certain you will find it pleasing.”

Without offering any more hints, Wrath escorted me down a stunning set of stairs and into a foyer filled with masked attendees sipping from champagne flutes and chatting in hushed tones. The atmosphere tonight was more subdued, but no less enchanting.

Gluttony noted our arrival and clapped his hands once, smoothly drawing the assembled partygoers’ attention. “Everyone, please, go into the dining room and take your seats. The feast is about to begin.”

Wrath led me to our places, and I was happy to see Fauna had been assigned the seat next to mine. Anir was across from her, and that was where my good fortune ended. Lady Sundra glided in, radiant like sunshine, her expression turning stormy when she spied me.

“Lady Sundra.”

Her jaw tightened, and I immediately realized the unintentional trap I’d set for her. With Wrath present, I’d forced her into using my title. “Lady Emilia.”

Envy swept into the room and sank into the chair opposite Wrath—and beside a still-glowering Lady Sundra—with a knowing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Before he could taunt me with whatever was brewing in his gaze, a chef strode into the room. “Good evening, lords, ladies, and princes of the underworld. Tonight’s menu theme is Fire and Ice. Each mortal land’s dish will represent the chosen elements in some form or another. Our first course is a frisée salad that features ice. You’ll see why shortly.”

An army of servants carried out individual plates and set them before each guest at the same time. Worries over Lady Sundra vanished. I could not tear my attention from the dish. Greens were placed in a circle on a wooden slab, resembling a bird’s nest plucked from a tree.

Sprinkled around the greens were bits of cheese and crushed pecans. In the center was a ruby-colored egg-shaped form filled partially with liquid. It was not simply a salad—it was a work of art, of passion. Creative genius on a level I’d never encountered.

I was happy to see I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t picked up a utensil yet, not quite ready to disturb the edible sculpture.

“A frozen strawberry vinaigrette.” The Prince of Gluttony tapped the faux egg, cracking it and spilling the dressing. He tossed the bits of cheese and crushed nuts into the leafy greens, mixing it all with the dressing. Everyone followed suit, their excited chatter filling the large dining chamber.

Wrath watched me, the corners of his mouth twitching as I cracked my vinaigrette egg and marveled at the dish. “You’re having a terrible time, I see.”

“Dreadful.” Despite the intrusive attention I felt coming from the opposite side of the table, I returned his grin. “It’s almost too pretty to eat.”

Finely cut bits of mint, shaved red onion, and fennel paired exquisitely with the bitter greens. Once our plates were cleaned, the waitstaff quickly disposed of them, making way for our next culinary delight. As if he were a maestro and the food the orchestra he was conducting, the chef reappeared, proudly announcing his next dish.

“Our second course for you this evening features fire. The ‘candle’ is made from bacon fat. As it slowly burns it will create a sauce for you to dip your scallops and shaved, charred parmesan brussels sprouts in.”

Waiters leaned in, lighting the bacon candles in unison. Gluttony encouraged everyone to sip from their wine and watch the candles melt. Bored with the theatrics, Envy turned to the male demon seated beside him. “Any word on the Stars of Seven?”

“Nothing new, your highness. All indications lead to the forest.”

Wrath’s attention slid to his brother. He carefully sipped his wine. “Chasing fairy tales again?”

“I wonder, dear brother, when I become the most powerful, will you still taunt me?” Envy’s smile was vicious. “Or will you bow down to your new king?”

Lady Sundra subtly glanced at the prince next to her, her gaze calculating.

I pressed my lips together, trying to keep the questions from spilling out. Anir leaned across the table, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Power is currency here. Mortals accumulate wealth; our royals do the same with magic.”

“Can the princes of Hell be dethroned by lesser demons?”

“No. They always rule their circles. It’s basically a test of who holds the most power amongst them. Sibling rivalry, if you will.”

“So the devil is a title that can be passed to different rulers.”

The princes near us stiffened, but Anir paid them little attention. “Not always. It more or less influences different eras on Earth. You can see through the ages which of the seven princes held the most power and influence based on the mortal world. Wars, greed, sexual awakenings. And yet,” his whisper was anything but soft, “I cannot seem to recall an era of envy.”

Envy slammed his wineglass onto the table. “Mind your tongue, mortal.”

“Or else…”

Before they came to blows, the chef reappeared, his voice carrying over the chamber. “The third course is our most interactive. I ask that you place the slices of raw, marinated beef over the coals and quickly sear them on each side. Once the meat comes off the coals, sprinkle the frozen bleu cheese crumble across the strips.”

Wrath shifted on my right, drawing my attention. He was focused on the door, where Greed had just walked in and bowed politely. He was in a bronze suit, his hair and eyes matching the exact shade of the metal he seemed born of. There was still that sense of wrongness in his sharp gaze, as if he were not quite as accustomed to the pageantry as his brothers were.

He gave Wrath a small nod before taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. “Apologies for tardiness. Do not stop the feast on my account.”

“Fucking sit, already,” Gluttony muttered. “Chef! Bring out another dish.”

Taking advantage of family dramatics that diverted Wrath’s attention, I leaned over to whisper in Fauna’s ear. “Have you ever heard of the Stars of Seven?”

“Oh, you mean the Seven Sisters. Of course. Everyone here has. In old legends, they appeared to travelers in need, their forms no more substantial than shadows. Some say encountering them is a blessing, but most here believe it’s a curse.”

“Why?”

“If you interrupt their celestial spinning, there’s a chance they may pluck and weave the wrong thread of fate. Sometimes the results of such interferences are immediate, and others take decades.”

“How… intriguing. If they weave threads of fate, they must be able to recall the past. See the threads they’ve already spun.” Fauna gave me a wary look but nodded. “So if anyone would know where lost objects are, it’s the Seven Sisters.”

“Emilia…” Fauna warned. “You cannot seek them out. Asking about a living being can cause damage to both the past and future.”

“I wasn’t planning on asking about a being. Only an object.”

“Whatever you’re scheming, stop. It’s too dangerous.”

Dangerous or not, I would find the mysterious spinners of fate. One of the enchanted skulls had mentioned “Seven Stars” and “Seven Sins.” I’d immediately guessed the demon princes, but hadn’t known what the seven stars meant. Now I was fairly confident I did. And the demon who Envy asked at the start of dinner had mentioned a forest.

Excitement thrummed through me. When I’d visited House Envy, he’d made it a point to tell me about Bloodwood Forest. I never did piece together why he wanted me to learn about the Curse Tree fable. I was beginning to suspect he’d also been hinting at something else.

His choice of topic this evening also was no accident. Envy wanted me looking for the Seven Sisters. And I’d wager it definitely had to do with the magical objects he was after; the Temptation Key and Triple Moon Mirror. For whatever reason, he must believe I’d have a better chance at gathering the information from them. Regardless of his motives, this information played into my own quite well.

I tried to recall the map I’d seen in House Envy. I could see the forest but couldn’t remember where House Gluttony sat in relation to it.

“Where is Bloodwood Forest from here? The Prince of Envy mentioned it’s not part of any royal land, but you have to pass through a territory to get there.”

“From here?” Fauna contemplated. “The fastest route would be through Pride’s circle.”

I glanced around the long table. Wrath, Greed, Envy, Gluttony. I didn’t see Sloth but recalled what Wrath had said about him slipping in before the fear ceremony. I sipped my wine and let my gaze travel around the other side of the room. Lust smirked at me from the far end of our side of the table, crooking his finger in a mocking wave.

Ignoring him, I asked quietly, “Has the devil arrived yet?”

Conversation ceased. Hands holding utensils and glasses paused mid-mouth. I might as well have cast a spell to freeze time. Apparently asking about the devil was a taboo subject.

“For our final course,” the chef’s voice cut through the silent room, “we have a combination of fire and ice together. Crème brûlée, fired right at your seat, topped with a garnish of frozen raspberry pearls and shattered mint leaves.”

Once the chef left us to our dessert, warm fingers brushed against my wrist. I glanced up into Wrath’s face. “Dance with me tonight.”

He stood, as did the rest of the princes in attendance. Servants rushed to pull out their chairs before disappearing back into the shadows. “Where are you going?”

“It’s time for us to don our masks.”

“And shed our civility,” Gluttony teased. “See you at the masquerade.”