“It’s better for us if he doesn’t know I want to help him,” Casimir replied.
“Why?”
“Because, if he knows I’m his ally, the Order will know it, too. I’d rather they don’t learn what we’re up to. A healthy dose of fear is…well, healthy.”
“August wouldn’t betray us like that,” I said, a little defensively. “He’s risked getting caught on more than one occasion to warn me about the Order.” A creeping unease crawled up the length of my spine as I turned to Casimir. “Devereaux is bound to figure out what August’s been doing behind his back, isn’t he?”
“Think of it like a hangover,” Casimir replied with a sigh, leaning against the railing. “Better to delay the inevitable as long as possible.”
Another minute of silence passed before either of us spoke.
I shivered, drawing his attention to my neck, which was riddled with gooseflesh. His predatory focus narrowed on my exposed clavicle, down to the slit that bared my moon-white leg.
I fought the blurring at the edges of my vision. “Do they know?” I asked with a glance toward several girls who were stumbling on glittering heels. Knowing the wine was drugged cast the atmosphere of drunken revelry into a horrifying new light.
Casimir shrugged. “I doubt it. Daemon wine causes euphoria and even hallucinations, depending on the dose, but the effect is somewhat similar to inebriation.”
“Can you drink it?” I wondered aloud.
“Yes.” Casimir chuckled. “Though I’d prefer to keep my wits this evening.”
I lowered my voice to a mere whisper. “Why do you think the Order poisoned the wine?”
“I suspect they had the same idea as you did. Loose lips, and all that.” A flash of gold glinted in his gaze as we locked eyes.
The eyes of the Darkseer,I thought.
Talking was making it easier to keep my body from floating off the veranda.
“Tell me more about glamours.” I knew from reading faerie books as a child that a glamour was a kind of enchantment cast to mislead or deceive. But Daemons weren’t faeries, and this wasn’t a fairytale.
“Glamours cast a sort of illusion,” he explained. “They can make you believe you’re experiencing agony or pleasure, but in general, glamours are used to conceal the true nature of something.”
“So, when Evren is torturing someone, they aren’t truly being harmed?”
Casimir’s brows rose. “Is there a difference between being burned and the experience of it?”
I considered his question before answering. “It depends. Even if the body remains unaffected by torture, the mind certainly doesn’t.”
He nodded in agreement. “I wonder…” His voice trailed off as his head turned toward the throng of people laughing and drinking inside. “It’s a long shot, I admit, but I wonder whether your abilities could be attuned to detect glamours.”
“You mean, I could learn to taste glamours the way I taste lies?” My abilities might be adaptable?Holy shit.
He shrugged. “While I am loath to drag you into this mess any further, it might at least protect you from the worst my kind has to offer. Since you refuse to wear any protections,” he added wryly. “Don’t think it’s slipped past me that your refusal to accept my gift is born of your mistrust.” His demeanor shifted then, into something almost gentle. “It’s not too late for you to leave, you know. If that’s what you wish. You still have a choice.” His gaze met mine, the pain plainly visible in each line of his pleading expression.
“You’re right,” I said, barely keeping my voice steady. “It’s my choice. Or didn’t you mean it?”
His eyes flashed at the accusation, but softened almost immediately. “No, I meant what I said. It is ultimately your decision, Arden. I won’t force you to go.”
My focus narrowed to that tight space, on the few inches of air that remained between us. “So you’ll keep training me to shield my mind from glamours?”
A half smile curved his lips. “Yes.”
I regarded him with suspicion. “How do I know you’re not lying?Perhaps you and August are both plotting to get rid of me,” I said, only half-meaning it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone I trusted conspired behind my back.
He laughed softly. “If I were plotting to get rid of you, you’d know it. Though it must drive you mad that I’m the one exception to your little trick.”
My little trick!? I knew he was trying to rile me to distract me from my own fears, and I felt my cheeks heat in spite of myself. Unwilling to take the bait, I instead offered him a patronizing smile.