Chapter 8
The next morning, Jessamine rolled over and traced the outline of Elric’s features with her gaze.
He really was beautiful when he was in repose like this.
Sunlight filtered through the tiny window in the cottage, dancing along his austere nose and the faint frown lines along his forehead.
Even in sleep, he always looked a little troubled.
Like he couldn’t get away from the demons of his past.
She breathed out a long sigh of contentment.
She’d never get used to waking up next to him.
He was like a marble statue carved by an artist who knew what was deep inside her most private dreams. And he was hers.
For now, at least. Jessamine knew it was foolish to believe she could keep a god forever.
Something in her heart skipped a beat every time she looked at him. And then there was the sex, of course. She couldn’t think of anything better than that godly experience. Even now, she throbbed between her legs at the mere thought of his touch.
But she also had to respect that he wasn’t just a god anymore. This body he was now in was very much human, or at least it seemed to be. He got hungry and tired. He needed rest less than she or Sybil did, of course, but he was sleeping so soundly now that it felt wrong to wake him.
She understood why people worshipped him and his siblings, though.
If she’d seen him stride out of a forest toward her, she would have known what he was instantly.
The aura that surrounded him was magnetic.
She wanted to fall onto her knees before him.
She wanted to worship the ground at his feet because it felt like that was what he deserved.
Or perhaps, what he demanded.
Slipping out of the bed, she tried to be as quiet as a mouse.
There was a robe that looked almost like a dressing gown in her pack.
She usually threw it on top of a shift if she was going out in public, but it would be good enough to sneak into the kitchen for a cup of morning tea.
No one should be awake yet, anyway. This was an hour reserved for those trying to hide or those who couldn’t sleep.
Jessamine supposed she was both of those people. Hiding who she was and why she was here. But also someone who couldn’t find rest even after she’d long past hit exhaustion.
Perhaps it was because this wasn’t how she had expected to live her life.
She’d planned to be a queen, ruling a kingdom of people who loved her.
A queen who still had her mother at her side, making it easy to run a kingdom.
A queen who had a husband that loved her, supported her, and didn’t try to kill her on their wedding day.
Of course, none of that was going to happen for her now. Maybe it never would have.
Ducking out of the cottage, she padded her way toward the main house and the kitchen, which hopefully held some tea to wake her.
Her mind ran wild with all the things she had to accomplish here.
Find Fortuna. Understand what connection her cousin had with Leon.
Figure out why her cousin would betray her own family.
The Pleasure District would make it easy enough for her to get around, but where Fortuna made her home, she had no idea.
She could already see this area of town had changed in the years since she’d last been here.
The best she could do for herself was find a way forward.
First, they would need to figure out disguises.
Wandering around like grimy little cretins would certainly not do.
Everyone in the Pleasure District had a certain style.
Perhaps they could steal clothing, like Sybil already had.
There were plenty of vendors who could easily be distracted while Sybil or Elric took what they wanted.
Maybe he even knew a spell to conjure the clothing she needed, although she had a feeling that wasn’t Elric’s kind of magic.
Shadow illusions, yes, but those wouldn’t be solid enough to fool anyone.
Opening the door, she stepped into the room full of birds and came up short as she saw Elissa Burnham sitting at her table with a regal-looking parrot perched on the back of the chair beside her. They both froze and looked at her, as though she had interrupted a rather important meeting.
“Sorry,” she said slowly, moving to the back of the kitchen to pour herself a cup of the tea that was already steeping. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t think anyone would be awake at this time of day.”
“I didn’t sleep,” Elissa replied primly.
“Magic has a way of doing that to people.”
“You’ve actually arrived just in time. I have some questions, if you’d be so kind as to answer them.”
There was no question there at all, Jessamine mused.
She chose a pretty teacup with blue butterflies painted on it and took her time pouring her tea.
Even though she knew that it was important to answer the questions of this new witch, she also very much realized that she was the rightful queen of this kingdom.
A fact that Elissa Burnham may have forgotten.
Settling herself opposite the other two, she took a sip of the scalding-hot tea before lifting her brow and inclining her head to indicate that Elissa could ask her question now.
“You said you were here for Fortuna Beaumont,” the other witch started.
“Yes, we are.”
“Do you have any idea how powerful that woman is?”
“I have some semblance of an idea.” Jessamine sipped at her tea again.
“I must admit, I have been away from court for quite some time. Dying tends to do that to a person. So I do not know what she has done or where she has been of late. That’s why we’re here.
I remember her living in the Pleasure District, and I know for certain that business would not change so very quickly.
The woman is particular about her money. ”
“That she is.” Elissa shared a look with the parrot before clearing her throat. “She basically runs the entirety of the district now, but that is almost certainly because the king himself has gifted it to her. If anyone speaks ill of her, King Leon Bishop is certain to get involved.”
So, she’d sunk her talons into him far more than Jessamine had expected. Although she supposed it made sense. If Fortuna wanted to ensure her position here never changed, she would need to make the king do more of the work for her.
“With her hand on the cock of the king, it’s much easier to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants.” Jessamine shook her head in disgust. “She always was remarkably ambitious.”
“It’s more than that. The rumor is that she’s…” Elissa leaned forward as though the secret was too dangerous to say out loud. “A witch.”
Jessamine leaned forward as well and whispered back, “You are a witch.”
Elissa’s face blanched, and she leaned back so quickly it appeared Jessamine had slapped her. “I am not… well, I am, but… Fortuna Beaumont is impressively powerful, and no one can stand against her.”
The door closed quietly behind them, and Jessamine saw that Sybil had joined them. The dark witch snorted, her hair wild around her head and a shawl around her shoulders as she staggered toward the tea.
“If you think no one can stand against her, then you’ve never met Jessamine. The woman is ruthless.”
“The Deathless One is ruthless,” Jessamine corrected. “He’s the one with all the ideas.”
“You’re the one who stood in the middle of a group of men, naked and covered in blood, and then cursed a man to be perceived by everyone else as a simpleton while knowing that he was once great.
” She poured herself a cup of tea, leaned against the counter, and then breathed in the scent of the black tea.
“You could have just killed him and put him out of his misery. Instead, you wanted him to suffer for years to come. He had at least another ten years in him.”
“More than that.”
“He was infected.”
Jessamine snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s right. Do you suppose if the infection continues to advance that he would remember who he once was, wandering the streets as an infected, but everyone would still see him as nothing more than a doddering fool?”
“It was a rather lazy spell.”
“Well, I’ll say.” Jessamine shook her head. “I didn’t think that one through. He’ll infect a lot of people if they don’t see him as such. Sounds rather dangerous to leave him in the Factory District.”
“He’ll only infect the other Iron Knuckles.”
“That’s all right, then.”
Elissa’s eyes pinged back and forth between the two of them. She clearly wasn’t following the conversation in the slightest, but she was trying her best. “The two of you talk about dastardly things so easily.”
Sybil looked at Jessamine, then Elissa, then back to Jessamine. “We’re witches. Of course we do.”
Well, it wasn’t the best thing to say. Elissa was already a little skittish about the whole thing, and now here they were, talking about the horrors they’d inflicted and expecting that she would be fine with it.
A ring on Elissa’s left hand rattled against her porcelain teacup as she lifted it to her lips. “It’s just all very… terrifying.”
“Witches don’t live peaceful lives,” Sybil said, her gaze narrowing on the other woman.
“I could teach you, if you were interested in being taught, which I don’t think you are.
I think you lived in this comfortable bubble and were certain that if you called on a god, you had done all you could.
Then the blame was no longer on your shoulders.
You’d tried your best. And nothing would change or happen, so nothing was your responsibility.
All the gods were dead, after all. What were the chances that one of them would answer you? ”
Elissa’s face went even more pale. “I want to be a witch. Just like my mother.”
“Do you? Why are you so afraid of the magic, then?”
“I’m not.” But then Elissa rubbed the new wound in the center of her chest. “It’s just… not what I thought it would be.”