Chapter Three
There’s a ringing in my ears.
“Me?” I ask, still quite dazed by Ophelia’s admission.
This is a misunderstanding. It has to be.
The princess hurries over and sits down on the chair next to me, reaching for my hands. Hers are so delicate that I want to take off my gloves and stroke them.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but you would be doing the kingdom a great service.”
She talks fast, as if she fears I might jump up and run away at any moment. But I’m far too perplexed. I’m still trying to comprehend what she’s saying.
“What do you mean he wants me?” I ask, shaking my head.
He doesn’t expect me to share a bed with him, does he? No, what a silly idea! He doesn’t even know me. And the crown would never allow such a thing, let alone suggest it. Right?
“He wants to feed on your sins,” Ophelia says softly.
“You want me to sin ?”
Even though I’m the one who’s speaking the words, it takes me a moment to register their meaning. The princess wants me to break the law. She wants me to hand myself over to a sin mage and risk my spiritual well-being.
“He wants a dinner, that’s all. It would take place here at the palace. A guard would always be nearby, and of course we would make sure no lines were crossed.”
I almost laugh out loud. It’s not like I’m not already crossing a line by committing gluttony in front of a sin mage and allowing him to feed on me.
Ophelia squeezes my hands a little tighter as they begin to tremble. Her voice is insistent.
“That sounds scary, I know. But trust me, nothing can happen to you here in the palace. Think of it as a once in a lifetime feast.”
I remember the lemon. The tequila. The butterscotch Ava brought back for me from an underground party once. Here’s my opportunity; I could taste all those flavors again and not have to worry about being punished for it.
Ava would agree to it in a heartbeat. But I’m not Ava. I hesitate, thinking of this Caden Nox. The most dangerous sin mage of all time, as Ophelia called him. Do I really want to sit across from someone like that? Do I want to allow him to invade my mind and manipulate it?
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Why does he want to feed on me, of all people?” My voice is far too high. “Why would he ask for me specifically?”
The princess shrugs. “We don’t know. He just gave us your name. It was his only demand.”
Why, though? I can’t shake the question.
While I’m still thinking it over, a door behind Ophelia opens. Someone enters.
King Henry I.
From the disapproving expression in his steel-gray eyes, I can tell that I’m not reacting quickly enough. I hastily rise from my chair, which begins to sway and almost topples over, and sink into a deep curtsy.
He’s tall, at least six feet. I never noticed that before. His brown hair is streaked with gray. It’s the only thing about him that isn’t perfect. His gray suit fits him to a T and doesn’t have a single crease; his black shoes are polished to a shine.
“Your Majesty,” I say as I stare at the tips of his shoes that have stopped in front of me.
“You don’t speak until spoken to,” he cuts me short.
I bite my lower lip. Of course. I know all this, I learned it in school. But I never thought I would actually have to use the knowledge one day.
His hand, clad in a black leather glove, grabs my chin and lifts it, forcing me to look up at him. There’s something hard and unyielding about his gaze. It may also be because of his striking features. He’s the opposite of his bubbly daughter. It’s hard to believe they’re related.
“So, this is her?” the king asks with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, father.”
Ophelia, who was shining so brightly a moment ago, is now speaking softly. I think I hear a tremor in her voice.
“She seems rather ordinary. I wonder what that sin mage sees in her.”
“I don’t know, father.”
Ordinary— it should probably please me to be called that. Ordinary means inconspicuous, not charming enough to tempt someone to sin. But coming from the king’s mouth it sounds like a cussword.
Finally, he lets go of my chin. I suppress the impulse to rub my aching neck.
“Well, we might as well get started. Miss Ashton, are you ready?”
“Ready for what, Your Majesty?” I ask.
Instead of answering me, the king turns to his daughter. “You did talk to her, didn’t you?” he asks impatiently. “She knows why she was brought here?”
“Of course, but …”
Ophelia’s eyes dart to me. She looks at me apologetically.
“There’s no time to waste,” the king says gruffly. “I want this unfortunate affair dealt with.”
Understanding dawns. How foolish of me to believe I would be given the choice whether to meet the sin mage and allow him to feed on me. There is no choice to be had. I will be given no respite, no reprieve. I’ll just be handed over to Caden Nox like a lamb to slaughter.
“I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
The king turns and leaves by the same door through which he entered the room a few minutes earlier. I try to right myself, but my knees feel terribly weak. Ophelia rushes to my side and holds out her hand.
“I’m sorry. I thought we’d have more time,” she apologizes.
How much more? I’d like to ask. Minutes? Hours? She must have known I had no choice but to comply with the request. Because it was never a request, was it?
I ignore her outstretched hand and hold onto one of the chairs. The world around me seems to sway.
Just dinner, I tell myself. It’s just one dinner.
“We don’t have to go right away,” Ophelia offers. “We can have another cup of tea. It will help you calm down.”
What’s the point when the outcome is inevitable? I shake my head resolutely.
“No, I want to get it over with.”
“Are you sure?”
I’m not, but I nod anyway.
We walk through corridors and up and down some stairs, until I lose all sense of direction. The part of the palace we finally reach seems older than the rest. Instead of tiles, the floors are laid with gray, polished stone. A harsh breeze makes me cross my arms in front of my chest protectively. Ophelia gives me a worried look.
“It’s not far now,” she assures me.
Just wonderful! I can’t imagine a better place to dine with a sin mage. I’m sure I won’t be able to eat a single bite. Right now my stomach’s in knots.
“Will the king be there while I…?”
While I sin, I want to say, but the words get stuck in my throat. The idea of what I’m about to do still seems too egregious to me to speak out loud.
Ophelia shakes her head.
“Father just wants to make sure Caden Nox fulfills his end of the bargain. The sin mage has specifically requested that you two be alone during dinner. But there will always be a guard within shouting distance.”
I’m not sure that puts my mind at ease very much. But at least the king won’t be there, should I lose all control during dinner. There are stories of people who are said to have gorged themselves on food in the presence of sin mages until they vomited. Is that what’ll happen to me?
The king is already waiting for us. He’s standing in the doorway to a candlelit room. I hear the clatter of dishes from inside, and lush scents reach my nose—something sweet and spicy, fruity and smoky. Some of them I can identify, for example the smell of fresh-baked bread and melted butter. Others are completely foreign to me.
“If you please, Miss Ashton.”
The king points to the room in front of him. His voice sounds friendly, but his gaze is impatient. Full of unease, I follow him and the princess into the room.
It’s dominated by a large table laden with several serving trays covered in cloches, which gleam in the light of the candles. Placed in front of a fireplace with a flickering fire are two leather armchairs, one of which is currently occupied. He has his back to us, but I can make out black boots and the sleeve of a dark blue shirt with gold cufflinks.
It’s the first time I’ve ever encountered a sin mage—that I know of. They are said to be unrestrained, self-indulgent, and eccentric. And according to Ophelia, Caden Nox is the most notorious of them all.
“Mr. Nox.”
The sin mage doesn’t turn around, though he must have heard the King. His ungloved hand reaches for a long-stemmed glass that stands beside him on a small table, and he takes an indulgent swig of the dark red liquid it holds.
“Miss Ashton?” he asks in a dark, silky voice after setting the glass down.
I watch the red liquid slosh in the glass. Is he really drinking wine with the king in the room? It all seems surreal to me. A man like Caden Nox belongs behind bars, not sitting by a fire in the royal palace.
“Yes,” I reply in a hoarse whisper.
Caden Nox raises a hand, motioning for me to stand in front of him. I freeze. Even if I wanted to, it would be impossible for me to put one foot in front of the other, to get even closer to him.
Seconds pass. Finally, the king gives me a push that makes me stagger forward and snaps me out of my stupor. I muster all my courage and turn to face the armchair.
Caden Nox is younger than I expected. I estimate him to be maybe two or three years older than me, so twenty-two, twenty-three. And he’s attractive. So attractive in fact, that I involuntarily swallow.
No wonder he’s such a dangerous sin mage. With a face like that it’s probably hard for anyone to deny him anything. High cheekbones, full lips, and curly blond hair. His blue-gray eyes remind me of clouds announcing the approach of a storm. Heated, ominous—beautiful. They scrutinize me brazenly, and with what might be best described as mocking arrogance.
“Kaya Ashton.”
The way my name slides off his tongue sounds more like a caress. It’s almost indecent the way he says it. I feel my cheeks getting hot.
“Mr. Nox, before you do whatever you need to do, I’d like to take care of business,” the king says.
He doesn’t seem to care in the slightest that I’m standing right there—the trembling prey before the wolf, fearful of being eaten. Literally. Ophelia gives me another apologetic look.
It’s just dinner, I remind myself. And a guard is always nearby. Caden Nox can’t hurt me.
But he could if he wanted to. I see it in his eyes, which he doesn’t take off me for a second as he holds out an envelope to the king.
“In here you will find the answers you seek. Now leave us!”
The king snatches the envelope from his hand, a grim expression on his face. But he doesn’t rebuke the sin mage for disrespecting him. Caden Nox has not bowed once to his king. Any other subject would have possibly gotten whipped for that. But not him. The sin mage must truly be powerful. So influential that even the king defers to his wishes.
“I’ll wait outside,” Ophelia tells me quietly before following her father out of the room.
I can tell she doesn’t like leaving me alone with him. And although it was her letter that got me into this mess in the first place, I’m glad of her support.
When everyone’s gone, Caden Nox rises from his chair. He walks leisurely toward me, bridging the last steps before coming to a stop right in front of me. He’s so close that I’d need to lift my head to look him in the eye. Instead, I stare at the open top buttons of his shirt, which reveal a narrow strip of skin, and the muscles that show underneath.
His skin is darker than mine. Not dark or even tanned, but you can tell that it’s not constantly hidden under several layers of fabric.
Caden Nox’ eyebrows rise as he notices my stare.
“If you prefer, we can always go with another sin,” he purrs seductively.
I take a step back, away from his intense energy, but it seems to vibrate around me, and an image that pops into my head of my fingers wandering over that naked patch of skin.
Did he put that thought in my head? No, he couldn’t have. Sin mages can only amplify feelings, they cannot awaken or control them.
I swallow.
“One meal. That’s all,” I say in a strained voice.
Caden Nox tilts his head and looks at me with amusement.
“One meal,” he repeats, licking his lower lip.
Because he still doesn’t move, I’m the first to turn away and go to the dining table. It’s set for only one person. I look up, confused.
“Aren’t you eating?”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Kaya, I’m going to enjoy this dinner. I just don’t want to spoil the taste.”
Oh, for all the seven virtues! He means my taste. The taste of sin. My stomach drops, and my hand clenches around the back of the chair in front of me.
“Please, do sit down.”
My legs are shaking so badly that I can hardly hold myself up anyway, so I comply with his request. He pours me wine before he sits down in the chair next to me, crosses his legs, and leans back, waiting.
“Now what?” I ask, staring at my empty plate.
My face is reflected in its shiny surface. It’s distorted, but I can still see the fear in my eyes.
“I’m sure I don’t have to explain the concept of eating to you, do I?” he asks, amused. “Start with this.”
He lifts a small cloche and hands me the plate underneath. I eye the food suspiciously.
“What is it?”
“A fennel salad with pears and dates.”
I’ve eaten fennel before, but pears and dates are foreign to me. I reach for the silverware and heap some salad onto the fork, but I can’t bring myself to put it in my mouth. Caden Nox watches me expectantly, his eyes lingering on my lips. I put the fork back down and clench my fist around the knife.
“How will it feel?” I ask.
“What?”
He seems irritated by my question. Irritated because I haven’t started eating yet like he asked me to.
“When you feed on me, how will that feel? Will it hurt?”
I would have preferred to not talk to him and just get it over with, but I don’t want to show fear in front of him. If I don’t want to submit to him completely, I want to be prepared for what’s to come.
Caden places a hand on the napkin next to my plate and runs his long fingers over the white fabric.
“You won’t notice I’m doing it.”
“And how much do I have to eat for you to…”
“For me to be able to feed on you?” he adds. “Even though the sin is called gluttony, it’s not about the amount you eat. It’s about the fact that you eat even though you’re not hungry. It’s about the pleasure you get from it.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
The corner of his mouth twitches but I don’t know if in annoyance or amusement. I’m trying to stall, and he knows it.
“Then this is going to be an unpleasant dinner for both of us.”
I can live with that.
“Why do you want to feed on me, of all people?” I repeat the question I’ve already asked Ophelia since I never got an answer from her. There must be a reason why he asked for me.
“I saw you and wanted a taste of you,” Caden replies so bluntly that I lower my eyes in mortification.
A taste of me.
He makes it sound like I’m a four-course meal, like the ones they have in those old novels I censor. I imagine Caden strolling through the East End like a predator on the prowl. Did I run into him in the library? Or maybe he was one of the patrons at the nightclub Ava dragged me to. The thought makes me go hot and cold at the same time.
“Where did you see me? And why—”
“Do I have to feed you myself or are you going to start eating voluntarily?” Caden interrupts me.
This time I detect a slight hint of annoyance. Until this point, my heart has been pounding with fear, but now anger is surging through me. Perhaps because he used the word voluntarily. Nothing about all this is voluntary.
I jab the fork so hard into the fennel salad that it scrapes across the plate with a squeak and take a big bite. No one said I have to enjoy this meal. I’m just going to scarf it down.
But I didn’t expect it to taste so good. The flavors positively explode on my tongue.
It’s sweet and salty, sour and spicy all at once. I have to control myself to keep tears from welling up in my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caden lick his lips as if he can taste it too.
“It is always a pleasure to make withered taste buds blossom,” he says in a dark voice. He’s closed his eyes. “You humans are so easily enraptured.”
I feel torn between taking another bite and jabbing my fork into his perfect face. Blinking, Caden opens his eyes and looks at me. He leans forward slowly.
“Do you want to know what your sin tastes like?” he whispers close to my ear as he licks his fingers. Middle finger, ring finger, thumb. I can’t take my eyes off his lips.
“No,” I breathe, but I sound anything but determined.
He grins.
“Sweet, with a hint of cinnamon. I could get used to it.”
I stare at him angrily. I don’t want him to get used to it. Undeterred, he sinks back in his chair and waves his hand.
“Eat! Your anger doesn’t taste half as good as you might think, love.”
I keep eating.
Because I don’t have a choice.
Because every bite makes my mouth water, and I don’t want to stop.
This must be his doing. He heightens my feelings. He makes me enjoy this food more than I would otherwise.
After the appetizer, he lifts another cloche. Lamb with spiced rice and apricots. I’ve never eaten meat before. The idea of eating a dead animal sickens me, so I focus on the rice and apricots. When he slides the wine glass over to me, I take a sip. The tart taste is interesting, but I’m not sure I like it.
“The best is yet to come,” Caden promises as I set my knife and fork aside a short while later and he raises another cloche.
Various small cakes and fruits are arranged on the large platter. It’s way more than I could ever eat. Not that it matters. He’s going to make me do it anyway by amplifying my feelings, so I allow him to put the plate down in front of me. I reach for a red fruit.
“What is it?”
“It’s called a strawberry.”
I try it. Its fruity sweetness spreads across my tongue as I bite into it.
“Try it with this.”
Chocolate cake. Even though no one I know has ever tasted it, we know what it looks like. Chocolate—the epitome of sin.
I shouldn’t …
Caden picks up a small bite of cake and holds it in front of my mouth. I press my lips together. The rich chocolate scent reaches my nose.
I shouldn’t . But with the sin mage intensifying my feelings and my desire, I don’t hesitate any longer. Instead of taking the piece of cake from him, I let him feed me, licking the chocolate from his fingers. A soft moan escapes him, and I close my eyes in pleasure.
It’s delicious. It’s heavenly. It’s…
Not right.
Horrified at myself, I open my eyes and slap a hand over my mouth.
“What have you done to me?” I blurt out.
Caden leans back with a small laugh and licks the remaining chocolate off his fingers. “I didn’t do anything but feed on you. And I do have to say, it was a feast.”
“You’ve amplified my feelings,” I snap at him.
He wasn’t forbidden from doing so. We hadn’t established any boundaries, and yet it feels like he crossed one. He manipulated me.
“Drink some more wine, maybe that will temper your anger,” Caden suggests with a grin.
But for the first time, I don’t care if he feels my wrath. He’s already fed on me, so how much worse can it get?
I reach for my wine glass and toss the contents at him.
I freeze.
Caden doesn’t even blink as the red liquid runs down his face and drips from his eyebrows onto his dark-blue shirt and the small patch of exposed skin at his neck. He stands up and walks behind my chair, propping his forearms on its back. Wine drips down my neck. I feel his warm breath against my cheek as he speaks.
“I didn’t amplify your feelings,” he says. “I don’t do that. What you felt was all you.”
“No.”
My voice is just a whisper. It can’t even begin to express the horror I’m feeling right now. What I felt—all that eagerness and desire—was all me? He had nothing to do with it?
“You’re welcome, love,” Caden replies.
I can’t see the smug grin on his face, but I hear it very clearly.