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“Don’t play with me. That might be what the others think, but I know better. You’re precious about your humans, and I wager most of them aren’t suited to sex work or wouldn’t choose it if there were a choice—and there is a choice.” I grin. “It’s interesting that you’re still dodging my question, though.”

“Leave it alone, Rusalka.” He turns that fearsome glare on Belladonna but seems to try to temper it. “You seem well. Are you enjoying your time with Rusalka?”

He knows damn well exactly how much she is—and what challenges we’ve faced. Ramanu reports everything they learn on their check-ins to Azazel. That was part of the contract I agreed to. I don’t point it out, though. This is a small kindness, to give Belladonna the courtesy of asking instead of lording his knowledge over both of us.

Azazel’s a pain in the ass, but I can’t fault him in his treatment of those under his power.

“I, uh...” She glances at me, her eyes a little too wide.

I reach over beneath the table and clasp her hand. “It’s okay. You can talk freely. Azazel isn’t going to sweep in and take you away from us.”

“Unless you want me to,” he rumbles.

“No!” Belladonna clears her throat. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’m enjoying my time with Rusalka and her court and the people I’ve met in town.” Her grip is so tight on my hand that it grinds my bones together. I don’t like the way her nerves saturate the very air around us. It’s a change, and not a welcome one. She wasn’t afraid of Azazel when I met her. What’s changed?

Azazel pauses as a servant comes in and pours deep glasses of wine. Four deep glasses of wine. I give the empty seat a significant look, but Belladonna speaks before I can question him further. She eyes the wine and gives him a tentative smile. “I’ve been spending time in the gardens. I find it very relaxing, and I’m learning a lot from Bogdan.”

“Bogdan.” He chuckles. “Even I know his fearsome reputation. The board of gardeners for Odonhert once bargained with him for a specific variety of flower he had grafted or...” He waves a hand in a charming helpless motion. “I’ll admit that I’m out of my depth when it comes to the topic. But the flower increased pollination capacity or something to that effect. He drove a hard enough bargain that my people still talk about it.”

The Insomnior Court still talks about it, too, though not with quite that flavor of admiration. Bogdan hadn’t wanted to make a deal at all. I spent weeks persuading him to even see the bargainer demons and then ran myself so ragged during their time in my village that I was incapacitated for a solid week after they left. Not sick, at least not with any illness, but riddled with an exhaustion so intense, I could barely get out of bed.

But we got a good deal out of the mess, one that’s benefited us to this day, so I counted the cost worth it.

Belladonna’s grip relaxes slightly in mine. “You sound almost admiring.”

“I am. Bargains are sacred among my people.” He lifts his wine, the glass looking absurdly small in his massive hand, and takes a sip. “I trust both parties came away pleased with the bargain.”

“They were,” I say. “We gained access to a new technology that none of the other territories possess, and the bargainers have had a particularly bountiful harvest in the years since they put the flower into circulation.”

The sound of a door opening causes all three of us to turn as a short blond woman with pale skin and a curvy body walks into the room. She pointedly doesn’t look at Azazel while she moves to the table and delicately sinks into the chair across from me. She’s pretty, bordering on beautiful, but there’s a deep unhappiness in her that feels like a prickly weight against my skin. It’s evident in the way she downs half the wine in a single drink, in the tension in her shoulders, in the shadows beneath her eyes.

Azazel clears his throat. “This is Eve. Eve, this is Rusalka and Belladonna.”

“I remember you.” Eve looks at Belladonna, some of the tightness fading from her expression. “You were part of the auction.”

“Yes.” Belladonna leans forward. “It’s been an interesting experience.”

“Interesting. That’s one way to put it.” Eve finishes her glass fast enough that I can’t help looking at Azazel. Surely she’s too small to be downing demon wine so quickly without consequences. The look on his face stops me short. I’ve never seen such yearning. And it’s combined with resignation and a slow-building fury that makes me want to get Belladonna out of here as quickly as possible. We may have nothing to fear from Azazel, but that doesn’t mean seeing him yell at his prickly human won’t upset Belladonna.

But in the span of that realization, Belladonna has made one of her own. She sits back and extracts her hand from mine so she can cross her arms over her chest. “You’re not happy here.”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Eve raises her glass, but Azazel shakes his head and moves the bottle out of reach. She shrugs and reaches over to grab his glass. He tries to catch her wrist, but she’s too quick, easily slipping from his grasp.

Belladonna frowns harder. “If you’re being mistreated?—”

“Mind your tongue,” Azazel growls.

That sparks my anger. “I don’t care if you made the initial deal that got her here. If you use that tone again, I’ll rip out your tongue.”

Eve laughs bitterly. “Down, Daddy.” She turns to address Belladonna, some of the venom in her tone eases. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. I’m safe.” She practically spits the word. “What reason do I have to be angry?”

Azazel sighs. “Eve . . .”

“I think I’ve had enough. Good night.” She rises unsteadily to her feet, sweeping up Belladonna’s wine as she does, and wobbles out of the room.

Even with the magic of the castle, I don’t like her chances of making it back to her room without issue. I glance at Azazel, but he’s already rising. “I apologize. This isn’t how I’d hoped things would go. I have to see to Eve.”

“Wait.”

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