Page 38 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

Lilibeth threw her hands up in the air. “You have no illusion of romance when your bargain is precisely to weave the illusion of romance. How reassuring.”

Opalina, who had been silent for too long, finally spoke. Her voice was calm. “You’ve only known him for four days. Do you trust him?”

The question hit her square in the chest. She opened her mouth. Closed it.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

She wanted to say no. To tell them she knew better than to trust a demon. But she had seen something in Ark—something beyond the careful, calculating man he presented to the world. Beyond the image of The Reluctant Heir he strangely wanted everyone to believe.

Yes, they’d only known each other for a few days, but he hadn’t insulted her lineage. Hadn’t made her feel lesser. He was nothing like the men she’d learned to stay away from.

She wanted to say she didn’t trust him, but that would be a lie.

“I don’t know yet.”

Opalina studied her, searching for something, then gave a single nod. “Alright.”

Lilibeth sputtered. “Alright?! That’s all you have to say?”

Opalina shot her a look. “I trust Cassia’s judgment.” Then, her voice took a softer turn. “Besides . . . I was beginning to worry that you had no interest in romance after what happened. So, I suppose this entanglement, as false as it is, gives me hope.”

Lilibeth scowled but crossed her arms. “Fine. But if he so much as breathes wrong⁠—”

“What? You’ll throw chocolates at him?” Opalina retorted.

Lilibeth growled, but Cassia saw what lay beneath the bravado. Not anger, but fear—for her.

“I may only be half Amoret Demon,” Lilibeth said, her eyes glinting with a sudden, dangerous allure, “and my magic may be persuasion and desire, not shadow and force. But I can still make a man regret his life choices in ways he wouldn’t even see coming.”

Opalina smirked. “Good. If the time comes, we’ll handle it.” She sighed, running a hand over her neatly braided coronet. “For now, we should get back before they start thinking we’re plotting your escape.”

Lilibeth eyed the high window at the back wall. “Might not be a bad idea.”

Cassia groaned. “Let’s just go. I need to prepare their order.”

She opened the storage room door and saw that Mr. and Mrs. Potts, and of course Mrs. Tilly, had surrounded Ark’s table like vultures on a carcass.

For the first time since she’d met him, Ark’s composure wavered—just a flicker—in the face of her nosy customers.

And Cassia couldn’t help noticing: she’d never seen him look this uncomfortable.

9

ARK

At some point, even a demon of his calibre must concede that he’d walked into this situation entirely unprepared.

It wasn’t a battlefield or an ambush, but it was a test—and he had the distinct impression he was being weighed on a scale he didn’t fully understand.

The three elderly humans had first come to make introductions, then somehow arranged themselves around the table, and now appeared to be staying for a pleasant chat.

But they were, in fact, settling in for a siege.

He recognized the tactic. What he hadn’t expected was the motive. They weren’t here to gain favours or gather gossip. They weren’t testing him for their own benefit. They were here to protect Cassia, to ensure he wasn’t a threat to her.

It was . . . new. He was accustomed to being approached for what he could offer—his name, his resources, his influence. People wanted things from him; they always had. But these three wanted nothing for themselves. They simply wanted her safe.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that.