Camilla wanted to cast the warning aside but thought of Vexley. Of how quickly Envy had despised him. She’d thought it was about defending her. But if Lo was to be believed…

“You’re saying there was never any heartbreak?”

“I never said that.” Lo’s smile was a slow twist of his lips. “If you want my advice, guard your heart and forget my brother. He is content with his games and riddles and plots.”

It was a warning meant to dissuade her, but it had the opposite effect. Camilla liked those things too. Each day, lately, she liked them more and more.

A servant made his way toward them, a bookish demon wearing spectacles. His pace was unhurried.

He handed a note to the prince, then bowed.

Lo read it over, then tucked the paper into his waistcoat.

“Bathe. Eat. Rest. My brother is already requesting reentry.” Lo smiled again, although this smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll make him wait a bit more just to remind him who rules House Sloth.”

GODS-DAMNED PRICK.”

Envy crumpled the missive in his fist, seconds away from declaring war on his bastard of a brother Sloth. Said war was only narrowly avoided by the surprise visitation request from his other prick of a brother, the gold-eyed demon staring at him now.

Envy glared at Wrath, who was dressed impeccably from head to toe in his signature black.

Gold rings gleamed on his fingers. Only a fool would think they were a simple fashion ornamentation. Envy knew firsthand how they could sharpen a blow.

His brother had come prepared for a fight, and Envy was feeling vexed enough to oblige. Decades ago, Wrath had refused to get involved the first time the game master screwed Envy. A fact he’d never fully forgiven his brother for. If anyone had stood a chance at swaying Lennox back then, it had been Wrath. But he’d chosen diplomacy instead. It set into motion their underlying friction and Envy’s least favorite role he played: the conniving, heartless villain.

Animosity aside, Envy had recently pretended he wanted to steal something his brother coveted. What no one knew was that Envy had his spies secretly feed Prince Greed the location of the two missing goddesses. It was that precious information that set into motion the eventual destruction of a curse. Envy had done his best to push and prod everyone into action, using any foul means necessary, always thinking of his court and their fate.

No one suspected Envy’s true motivation, they all only saw the game player. Which suited him fine.

The demon of war gave him a mocking grin.

“I missed you, too.” Wrath tossed a bag his way, the scent of sugar and cream immediately filling the air. “Not as much as my wife, though.”

Envy glanced inside the bag, a strange feeling thawing his irritation slightly.

Emilia had made cannoli for him. He stared at the bag a long moment, no discernible ulterior motive surfacing, nothing aside from… friendship. Emilia loved cooking, loved nourishing those she cared deeply for. Envy was admittedly a little touched that that now extended to him.

He fought the urge to try one when he realized how closely Wrath was inspecting him.

Envy folded the bag up again, tossed it carelessly onto his desk.

“Gratitude.” Wrath’s tone was amused. “That’s the foreign emotion you’re experiencing. I’ll pass along your thanks. For some reason, Emilia thinks you’re friends now.”

That pleasant feeling in his chest expanded painfully.

Envy squashed it at once.

“Shouldn’t you be home tending to your deviant wife? I’ve heard all about the manacles.”

“She’s visiting her sister.” Wrath’s golden gaze pinned him, all humor draining away. “And if your spies watch my wife again, I’ll come for you.”

Envy sighed.

“Contrary to popular belief, no one cares about your sex life. Don’t bend your wife over every hard surface you encounter outside the castle if you seek privacy like a mortal.”

“Your spies shouldn’t be in my circle, those wards—”

“Why are you here?” Envy interrupted; best not to travel that path.

Wrath stared at him, hard, proving he knew exactly what Envy was up to.

“Where is your court? The corridors were quiet.”

Envy’s stomach tightened. Wrath had been escorted by Alexei, taken directly from the front door to Envy’s study. It had been risky to allow Wrath access, but dismissing the request would also have raised his brother’s suspicions.

He’d warded the corridor to divert any confused members of his court, keeping them far from the demon of war’s watchful gaze.

“A new Iron Age exhibition was recently installed on the upper terrace.”

It wasn’t a lie. Unlike a human, any demon prince would detect deception. Envy had worded it carefully to keep Wrath from sensing any untruth.

Wrath scanned him, gaze sharp. He was clever enough to know something was off, but there was no direct lie to call out. Thankfully, House Wrath recently visited House Envy, and even if his brother was suspicious, Envy’s court had appeared mostly intact then. Wrath would never imagine how far they’d all fallen and how fast.

Envy adopted that bored look his brothers associated him with.

“If you’re looking to make Emilia jealous, I’m sure you’ll find someone to your liking here. Feed my sin while you’re at it.”

Wrath leveled him with a look that indicated Envy was pushing him too far.

“You need to work off some anger. I sensed it from my House.”

Envy was wound tightly. But he didn’t need assistance. He needed to be searching House Sloth for the next clue, and he’d grown tired of his meddling brothers. Eventually, one of them would figure out why he was so tense. He needed to get rid of Wrath before he became an issue.

While Envy had waited for his wound to heal, he’d ventured down into the kitchens. Smoke had drifted up, snaking through the corridors and stairwells. A demon was facedown in the fires, the cause of their death not immediately obvious.

Envy had found Franklin, his butler, wandering in circles before he’d snapped himself together and bowed. He’d briefly forgotten who Envy was.

A sign his memories were growing foggier by the day. Soon he wouldn’t remember who he was, what vital role he played at the House. Envy had sent him to his chambers with instructions to rest, then took care of the kitchens himself.

He’d just scrubbed the scent of burnt flesh from his body when Wrath’s request arrived.

“Well?” Wrath pressed. “Do you feel like fighting, brother? Or do you think you’re going to attempt to take my throne?”

“Trust me, I’m in no danger of vying for your sin. Unlike you, I don’t need to fight in order to get myself under control. Non ducor, duco. I am not led, I lead.”

Wrath didn’t move to strike, but Envy felt the charge build in the air all the same.

“House Vengeance is stirring up enough discord as it reestablishes itself. Your game had better not incite a war within our ranks.”

Envy didn’t let his intrigue about House Vengeance show. Aside from the slight gossip Lust had shared, whispers hadn’t reached his ears yet about Death’s mysterious domain. In fact, Vittoria had been surprisingly quiet since she’d taken her shifters and returned to her House.

“I mean it.” Wrath’s menace shook the floor. “We’ve got enough to worry about with the witches, we don’t need problems with the Fae because you can’t handle your shit. When will you stop playing games?”

Envy’s own annoyance grew. Wrath had no idea how fucked they’d all be if Envy lost this game. It wasn’t his fault the rest of the realm had gone mad. That was not his mistake, and he refused to shoulder any more blame.

“The witches were nearly annihilated in that last skirmish. You know as well as I do that it will take them decades to pose any true threat again. And when do we ever have peace? Sursea, the so-called First Witch, is immortal. We could wipe the realms of all witches, but she’d just spawn more. Peace is a concept that is unattainable, and you well know it.”