A knock on the door. Both spun to face it. “Princess Sabelyn invites you to breakfast,” a maid intoned.

Mouse’s stomach twisted. Does she know? Did Reginald remember? He glanced at Dayander, who raised an impressive eyebrow at him.

There was a brief pause, and then a knock rang out from the next door over. “Princess Sabelyn invites you to breakfast.”

Mouse breathed out. She’s gathering everyone. There’s no meaning to it. “It seems I’ve been summoned.”

“Good luck, princess.”

--

Sabelyn awaited them at the dining hall. No less grand than the ballroom, it gaped wide, large enough to seat hundreds. Tapestries depicting the human kingdom’s triumphs decorated the wall. The Mage-Emperor triumphed over a legion of darkfoes in one, dragons, corrupted beings, and hideous, unspeakable creatures belly-up around him. In another, an ancient queen lofted an ornamental mace high, while representatives from all the noble families knelt around her. In yet another, the largest of all, a silvery-blue bubble descended from the heavens under a female Mage-Emperor’s careful spellcrafting. Simpler tapestries depicted hunts, battles, even festivals.

Cavernous, the massive hall dwarfed the single hardwood table that stretched down the center of the hall. Set for the dozen-or-two princesses, each place setting laid lonely, well out of reach of the next. Sabelyn sat primly at the head of the table in a sky-blue dress, a simple, lightweight circlet set with a sapphire adorning her brows today. As Mouse entered, she nodded to her left, indicating Mouse’s place.

Mouse walked obediently over, passing by the half-dozen princesses already seated. One of the princesses snagged his sleeve as he walked past. He turned, raising an eyebrow.

The demoness simpered back. Her tall horns curled back over her head, reaching Mouse’s upper chest even when she was seated. “Are you the human’s plaything?”

“For now,” Mouse replied, uninterested. He pulled away.

She caught his arm. “I think you and I have a lot in common. Much more than you and that human do, anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both represent Darkland species, for one.”

Mouse furrowed his brows. The Darklands stood outside the Barrier. The orcs were banished there, and the demons had come from them, but moon elves had no such history. For as long as there had been Barrier countries and Darklands, the moon elves had lived inside the Barrier. “We moon elves are founding signatories of the Barrier Pact. How are we Darklanders?”

The demoness smiled. Her plump, dark-purple lips glistened, at once sinister and seductive. Mouse swallowed and forced himself to look away. Dayander was right: demons are dangerous creatures.

“So you don’t know.” She hooked a finger at him. He couldn’t help but notice how sharp and clawlike her fingernails were, or how perfectly sculpted her fingers.

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Before he knew it, he’d already leaned toward her. Her eyes were pools to drown in, deep violet as the darkest amythests. Lips quirked up at the edges, begging him to kiss them. She shifted slightly, and his eyes slipped to her breasts, pushing eagerly against her thin gown. He longed to feel her soft warmth, the press of her body against his, run his hands over all the places she curved. Only he and she mattered. The rest of the room was a blur. It faded away, forgotten.

He leaned in closer, angling for her lips. Just a kiss. One kiss. He couldn't bear not to.

She sucked in a breath, lips parting invitingly. Her smile widened, and she leaned up to him.

A tiny voice sounded at the back of his mind. What am I doing? I'm Moussaesa, not Twain. Moussaesa wouldn't kiss just anyone.

Who cares? a louder voice answered. You want to kiss her, so do it. Since when have you put any effort into being Moussaesa?

His brows furrowed. He hesitated, inches from the demoness' lips. Why do I want to kiss her? I haven't ever kissed anyone before. Isn't this too much? I don't even know her.

A warm sensation swirled in his veins, wiping away his thoughts. Soothing heat urged him to forget, give in.

His eyes flew wide. Shit, not again! I'm not going to fall for someone else's trick this time! Mouse pinched himself on the leg, forcing himself to focus. The manure from last night! That scent. The memory welled up, just as putrid as last night. Steaming, thick, so sharp he choked on it. He gagged.

There was a quiet snap, and the spell broke. The demoness remained attractive, but no longer so alluring he couldn’t think straight.

Mouse drew his head back and narrowed his eyes at her. An illusion? Really?

She arced an eyebrow back, unashamed and maybe a little impressed. She leaned up and sucked in a breath, then, as if thinking, let out a tiny huff onto his ear. Despite himself, Mouse’s ear quivered at the brush of her breath. The tips reddened slightly, even through the gray.

She leaned closer yet and whispered in his ear, “If you want to know the truth, meet me by the well at sundown. Fear not, I am no competition to you. I do not covet the Emperor’s hand in marriage; I simply want to increase my country’s standing.”

“I don’t want his hand in marriage, either,” Mouse blurted. His eyes widened, and he pinched himself harder. A persuasion under a persuasion? No wonder Dayander warned me!

The corner of her lip curled up. So close her lips brushed his ear, she purred, “See? I told you, we have much in common. Sundown, by the old well. I’ll be waiting.”

Mouse yanked his head away and rubbed his ear self-consciously. The demoness winked. Suggestively, she licked her lips.

Does she know I’m a man? Mouse wondered. A second later, he thought: does she care?

“Mouse,” Sabelyn snapped.

“Milady.” He curtsied and hurried to her side. Her tone annoyed him, but he couldn't help but be glad for the excuse to escape the demoness.

The demoness waved after him. “I’ll be waiting, little Mouse.”

Sabelyn glanced at him as he settled beside her. “I heard you fell ill last night and left the dance early.”

Mouse nodded. Servants bustled over with baskets of bread and fruit and set them before him. “The Crown Prince kindly escorted me back to my room. Please extend my thanks.”

She watched him out of the corner of her eye for a few beats, then smiled kindly. Her eyes remained dark, emotionless. “Are you feeling better this morning? I hope you did not push yourself to attend breakfast.”

“Not at all, Your Highness. It was only a moment of lightheadedness. A good night’s sleep is all the medicine I needed.” Mouse broke the bread and nibbled on a piece, the picture of nonchalance.

She nodded. “Our physicians and healers are at your beck and call, if you ever require them. You need only say the word.”

“Your Highness is too kind.”

They ate in silence for a few moments. Tension shimmered in the air, nearly palpable. Mouse shot a sideways glance at her. Say it. Come on, ask. Give yourself away.

Sabelyn opened her mouth. “Have you—”

“Good morning,” a grating voice screeched. It echoed, bouncing off the stone walls.

Sabelyn whipped around. Annoyed, Mouse peered after her. Who's interrupting us? I was just getting to the good part!