The Child of Darkness

Death exits the carriage first and holds out his arm to me. I grasp it with one gloved hand, hold up my heavy overskirt in the other, and descend the steps.

The palace is a grand structure painted entirely in black, something like our own castle in the capital.

It's positively gothic in appearance, with winged creatures resting atop the columns. Round towers sweep up the sides, roofed with shingles, a recent architectural style.

The entire length of the palace is built near the top of a mountain, with most of the city winding its way downward.

The Shadow King is a grand conqueror, spreading his influence slowly across all the rebel kingdoms in Hell, just like his father before him. Since the surrounding kingdoms try to retaliate from time to time, a well-protected city is vital, and the grand palace is said to be impregnable. Guards patrol the grounds with rifles slung over their shoulders, a further deterrent to our enemies.

"I'm not sure black was the best colour choice for your attire," Death says as he leads me up the steps to the main entrance. "Everyone knows the king's favourite colour is green."

"Every single girl in attendance will be wearing green. The point is to stand out. Not blend in."

"I think you might have erred in excess."

I think not. With the king's conquest of Jadea, some of the ladies at court tried the Jedean style of loose pants with jewelled hems below a fitted top. After a while, the style faded away. It was too different for most ladies to adapt to.

I've designed a combination of the Jedean style and our heavy-skirted Naxosian style. I wear close-fitted pants beneath a floor-length overskirt, which parts in the middle to show off the pants. Heeled boots raise me an extra inch off the floor.

The overskirt is short-sleeved, but I wear gloves so long they overlap the sleeves. My top is tied in the back beneath the overskirt, the neckline just short of my collarbone. Modest and yet not matronly.

A black rose pendant rests on a choker around my neck.

Matching earrings dangle from my lobes, and my hair is half up in a loose twist.

"I assume you have a plan for once you're introduced to the king?" Father asks. "He will receive each lady one by one up to the dais. He barely even looked at Jessica when it was her turn. The Shadow King never descends the steps to interact with the partygoers. He doesn't even ask anyone to dance."

"Of course I have a plan," I respond. One doesn't go into

battle unprepared.

"Are you going to tell me about this plan?"

"It doesn't involve you. You don't need to know."

The muscles in his arm bunch slightly. "But I could weigh in. Help you. You're not the only one who wants you t succeed."

I pause at the top of the steps. "Have you ever seduced a man before?"

Death's cheeks redden. I am amused at the fact that I have the upper hand in things now. "Of course not!"

"Then I don't see why I should need you to weigh in on anything. Rest assured, if there's any way in which you could prove useful, I will tell you. For now, I can handle things."

We continue at a leisurely pace. The doorman nods a greeting at us as we pass him by, and Father leads me toward the ballroom.

But we can't come within a hundred feet of it, because a line of green extends nearly all the way back to the far wall. More than a hundred girls chitter with their families and one another, all waiting for an introduction with the king. I'm certain they can't all be eligible for marriage. Many look like younger sisters of the older ladies in line. Still, should the king show any interest in the younger ladies, I'm certain their fathers will make them available.

Death tries to take me to the end of that line, and though it appears to be moving at a somewhat quick pace, that simply won't do.

"No, we're not waiting in line," I say.

"That's the only way to get an introduction with the king."

"Let's go into the ballroom first."

"You'll be lost in a sea of people there. That's not going to catch his attention."

I blow out a breath through my nose before turning to face Death. "If you cannot do as you're told, then you can leave. Remember, all your tutelage with Jessica did nothing. Your way doesn't work. I am in charge of this plan, and I will execute it as I see fit. It simply won't do to have us quarrelling once we enter the party, so make a decision now."

Death lips press into a thin line. He doesn't like being told what to do, least of all by me, a child that is not even his.

Finally, Death nods and holds out his free hand in front of us, inviting me to lead the way.

I do.

The upbeat music of an orchestra wafts out a set of open doors farther down the way. They appear to be used primarily for exiting the party, however. I watch girls with handkerchiefs pressed to their noses to muffle their snivelling and angry mothers chastising them for it scamper into the hallway, making hasty retreats.

Has the king been openly rejecting the women who come to get an introduction? I smile at the thought of his forwardness. That's exactly the sort of thing I would do in his position.

Death and I push past a few more nobles leaving before we're finally caught in the thick of the party.

Couples glide together on the dance floor. Gentlemen drink wine from goblets, and mothers gossip to one another from the sidelines. Groups of girls giggle behind fans or shawls as they stare up at the dais.

At the Shadow King. I've never laid eyes on the man before, and now I'm free to observe him as long as I like while momentarily hidden among the other guests.

His name, it would seem, is well deserved and in line with the rumours I've heard. Tendrils of shadow halo his entire outline. They swirl as though alive, caressing his skin and dissolving into nothing before reappearing again.

It's fascinating to watch.

No wonder he is the child of Darkness.

They say the Shadow King has some sort of power, but no one knows what it is. Some say he can command the shadows to do his bidding, that he can use them to kill—choke the life out of his enemies. Others say they're a shield. That no blade can pierce his skin. And even others say that the shadows speak to him, whispering the thoughts of those all around, something I could do.

I certainly hope that last one isn't true.

Knowing what I have in store for him after our wedding night simply won't do.

Once I adjust to the outline of shadow, I'm able to take in other features. His hair is as black as the shadows around him.

The sides are cropped short, but the hair up top has some volume to it, parted to the side. A strong brow shades his eyes. The lines of his jaw are so sharp they could cut glass, he's cleanly shaven. With a straight nose and full lips—

He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, even when his features are set somewhere between boredom and irritation.

Seducing the king will prove to be a most enjoyable task, indeed.

We match, I note, as I take in his clothing. While all the dresses around us vary from mint to teal to olive, we are both decked in head-to-toe black. The king wears sleek dress pants. A black undershirt, tie, waistcoat, and overcoat. Brilliant silver buttons don his jacket. A chain dangles from the shoulder to a pocket above his left breast, holding a watch, no doubt. Black leather gloves cover his hands, which rest on the arms of his chair. A sheathed rapier leans against his throne, one for style, not use, I'm sure.

Though he doesn't bother with a crown, there is no doubt as to the man's status.

"He's so striking," I say at last. And young. I know he was only crowned about a year ago, but he can't be much older than I am.

"Remember, if you approach him, you're not permitted within five feet of him."

Yes, I know the law. No one is allowed to touch the king.

To do so is punishable by death.

Oh, he is a delightful mystery that I can't wait to solve.