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“But you’re a mortal.” And Adelphi’s Sacrifice, I don’t add.

She waves a hand as if it’s trivial information. “Yes, yes. Which brings us full circle to the question of the hour—have you had many mortal lovers?”

This bold little thing sits patiently, fingers running through the fur rug beneath her, as she waits for my answer.

Strangely off-kilter, I answer honestly. “Of course I have. If you live as long as I have, you get sick of the lot you’re surrounded with.”

She grins as she draws another card. I do the same. She reveals a six. I boast a ten.

With a sigh, she says, “Go on. Ask me anything.”

I run the tip of my tongue over my lips. “Would you ever fuck a vampire?”

She tilts her head from side-to-side. “If you asked me a month ago, my answer might’ve been no. But tonight”—her gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my mouth—“I would definitely consider it.”

The burning persists, and that four-letter “M” word continues to poke and prod. I shut it out as I draw another card.

An eight to her four.

“What do you like to do in your spare time?” I ask. “Besides throwing yourself at males in sewing shops?”

“First of all, Cress would stake you if she heard you refer to Gild the Lily as a mere sewing shop. It’s an upscale boutique.” I chuckle, and she beams. My joy, however feeble, seems to empower her. “To answer your question, I write sometimes. Nothing pretty or memorable, mostly diary entries. I read whatever I can get my hands on, and I’m fond of creating and solving anagrams. Cress and I used to write notes to each other using them before she taught me sign…” She trails off as a small, affectionate smile spreads across her rosy lips. “Actually, now that I think about it, Cress has taught me quite a few things, even how to sew and knit and press flowers.”

Surprise rattles through me as the prophecy I’ve long kept hidden in the depths of my heart emerges unbidden. The female who sits alone in a garden of flowers weeping about time and fate is never truly alone because she’s⁠—

“I know that might sound like a strange hobby,” she babbles, almost self-consciously, “but there’s something… relatable about preserving something so beautiful and preventing it from ever knowing Death’s clutches.”

“Do you fear Death?” The question spills out.

I’m desperate to know every single one of her fears. Not to use them against her as I would anyone who was deserving of the Mors Soluta’s wrath. No. I’m desperate to know her fears because I have the preternatural urge to protect her from them.

She plucks another card from the deck. “I do believe you’re only allowed to ask one question per win.”

I humor her and draw another.

Seven to her three.

She curses worse than any sailor I’ve ever met.

“Shall I ask you again?” I lean back on my palms, watching her.

“Many people consider Death an old friend, but to me, she’s a nagging crone,” she says carefully. “So, to answer your question, no, I don’t fear her.”

Her heart rate kicks up slightly. Liar.

However, I don’t press her on it. Instead, I draw another card and reveal a king. She follows suit and tosses down a face card—a queen.

Our eyes lock.

“Does the rite scare you?” I ask. “Is that why you’re so willing to give your body to a perfect stranger? A vampire, at that?”

She pales. “You know who I am.”

“I do.”

She folds her arms against her chest, emphasizing the two hardened peaks pressing against the shirt’s fabric. “Then you should know my body stopped being my own the night I was born. So if fucking a stranger gives me some semblance of control over my body, my life, so be it. This game is ridiculous. I should’ve just gone to Lickerish and hired a consort to fuck me like I originally planned.”

A snarl curls in the back of my throat. No.