Page 148 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘Perhaps the thought may take flight now that you know what’s on offer.’

Perhaps it is worth consideration, purred the old voice.

Andreas pushed his chair back, tossing his napkin onto his plate. ‘There is another soul you could devour. A finer bounty than this one. One that would further our cause.’

Our cause.

Our kingdom.

Our empire.

Theo had never dreamed of such things. Power, unlike anything even Hugo Versini had fathomed. There was part of him – something old and dark and covetous – that yearned for it. And, saints help him, the prince saw it. He tasted his desperation like fine wine, and smiled as he drank it down.

‘You mean Seraphine,’ said Theo.

‘To eat the soul of another is to claim their power for your own, is it not?’ Andreas’s eyes flickered gold, avarice skimming his every word. ‘Think of the magic you could bestow with a power like that. The army we could make. An undefeatable force.’

Theo looked to the window to hide the revulsion on his face. Even with an empire dangled like a jewel over his head, the thought of moving against Sera – of hurting one of his own – raked claws down his soul.

The floorboards creaked as Andreas rounded the table. ‘You were made to take. To devour. Like Armand and Hugo. Is there another power better suited to an artificer such as yourself? Are you not the true Maker among your Order?’

Yes! cried the old voice. You, alone, are the most powerful!

Those honeyed words took root, made all the more dangerous because there was no magic in them. Only truth.

‘Sera is well cosseted in the Hollows,’ he said, stiffly. ‘She has a ring of saints around her.’

‘I will draw her out.’

The old voice purred.

‘How?’

He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Trust must be earned.’

‘So tell me how to earn it.’ There was a note of desperation in his voice. In his heart.

Andreas leaned over him, so close now Theo could smell the wine on his breath. Candlelight danced along the wheat-blond strands of his hair, his eyes wide and wanting. It occurred to Theo that he could strike now. Take his meat knife and plunge it into the prince’s heart, or, cleaner still, use his hand and rip the soul right out of his chest. But then he would be ripping away the destiny Andreas had promised.

Do not dare! hissed the old voice.

Theo hesitated. And hated himself for it.

Andreas peeled his lips back. ‘A good start.’

Theo downed the rest of his water to quench the terrible heat within. He was better than this. He had to be better than this. Stronger than his greed. Deeper than his ambition.

No, crooned the old voice. You are not.

‘There is, of course, another test you must pass before I allow you to remain in this castle.’ Andreas pulled back, the moment dissolving just as quickly as it had come. Nodding to his guards at the door, he said, ‘Bring in the boy.’

Theo turned at the sound of footsteps. His heart gave a deep dreadful thud at the sight of Fabian shuffling into the dining toom. The boy’s owlish eyes were wide. His shirt was torn and his trousers were covered in dirt.

‘I assume you know him, considering he followed you here,’ said Andreas.

Theo stared at the boy. ‘Why?’

‘Ransom asked me to keep an eye on you.’