Lumi moved like a shadow through Lover’s District. What had begun with the mild inconvenience of waking in the emperor’s bed had rapidly descended into chaos—culminating in her fleeing a crime scene. One she had created.

  She was lucky it was the sabbath, most residents still lost to slumber. The slums were desolate, save for the occasional stir of a stray pup or the mumble of a drunkard too far gone to find his way home.

  She couldn’t afford to be seen.

  Not like this.

  Blood stiffened her dress, flaking off in brittle streaks with every movement. It crusted in the corners of her mouth, caked beneath her fingernails, lingered on her tongue.

  The pleasurehouse loomed ahead, its weathered exterior blending into the district’s squalor. Lumi slipped through the back entrance, the door groaning softly as she shut it behind her. She pressed her forehead into the cool wood, her breaths coming in shallow gasps that scraped against her throat.

  “Rough night?”

  The voice made her jump. She spun around, her heart slamming against her ribcage. Her back pressed hard against the door, the knob digging into her spine.

  Rico stood against a wall, a vicious smirk pulling at his lips. Then his gaze slid over her, lingering on her bloodstained ensemble.

  “There’s something wrong with him,” he muttered.

  “What?” Lumi’s stopped breathing. She was certain her wide-eyed expression betrayed the panic swirling through her insides.

  “The emperor,” Rico said.

  “The emperor…?” she echoed, feeling faint.

  Get it together, Lumi, the voice scolded.

  “Last night…” Rico’s words went unfinished.

  An image flashed through her mind—blood pooling across the deck of Rook’s ship.

  “Right,” she managed.

  “I’ve known plenty of killers,” Rico continued, “But him? He doesn’t just kill. He enjoys it.”

  Lumi’s gut churned. Last night, she had been repulsed by what Rook had done—the way he severed limbs and sliced flesh. But as Rico’s words settled over her, they felt like a mirror she couldn’t turn away from.

  Was she any different?

  No.

  She was worse.

  Rook’s actions stemmed from self defense. Kill or be killed, he told her. She stalked her victims. Sought them out. And the worst part—she enjoyed it. An ecstatic rush blazed through her veins as she drank from them. She could still feel it thrumming inside of her.

  Gods help her.

  Now, standing in the suffocating stillness of the pleasurehouse, the memory curdled into shame. She wished to disappear, to dissolve into the floorboards and become nothing.

  “Get yourself cleaned up,” Rico tilted his head to the winding staircase, “You look like hell.”

  Without a word, she pushed past him, her steps unsteady as she climbed the stairs to her room.

  ***

  The door shut behind her with a dull click. Lumi sagged against it, the back of her head hitting the warped wood with a soft thud. The water-damaged ceiling stared back at her, its dark stains spreading like an infection. Her four walls pressed in, threatening to smother her.

  She fumbled at the straps of her dress, yanking them free with jerky, desperate motions. The bloodied garment slid to the floor, collapsing in a crimson heap.

  A metallic clang broke the silence, the sound reverberating through the room like canon fire. Lumi’s gaze snapped to the dagger that tumbled free from the folds of the dress. The blade caught a pool of light seeping through the jagged hole in her wall, scattering reflections across the room.

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  It whispered to her. A dark promise that made her shiver.

  The rotting floorboards groaned as she dropped to her knees. Her trembling fingers closed around the hilt, the cold metal biting into her skin.

  She turned it over, her eyes tracing the lethal edge.

  One stroke, the venomous voice encouraged. That’s all it would take.

  Her hand rose, the blade quivering as she pressed it to the delicate hollow of her throat.

  She could end it.

  The pain.

  The hunger.

  The endless torment.

  One clean swipe, and all her problems would dissolve.

  The blade pressed harder, the tip slicing just enough to send a drop of blood trickling down the columns of her throat. A single tear carved a path down her cheek, mingling with the blood.

  She would be forgotten—another body amongst the other poor souls who perished in these slums. Nobody else would die at her hands. The world would be a better place.

  No.

  With a guttural cry, Lumi flung the dagger across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thunk and clattered to the ground.

  Very good, lovely—the voice purred its delight.

  Her hand flew to her throat, swiping away the iron and salt.

  She wouldn’t make it easy for them. Lady Sol, Rico, Rook. All those who took satisfaction in her torment. She wouldn’t surrender, wouldn’t lay down and die.

  She would fight. Until her last aching breath.

  The mystery of her past still loomed like a cloud above her head. She wasn’t done. Not yet.

  The floorboards on the other side of her door creaked. Then came a knock. It broke the stillness like a thunderclap.

  Lumi’s head snapped toward the door. There was no time to compose herself before the door groaned ajar, spilling light into the room.

  “Hey stranger,” Kit stepped inside, her voice light, teasing. “The emperor’s been keeping you all to himself, hasn’t he? I haven’t seen you in days.”

  Lumi turned away, reaching for her pile of rags. She pulled one over her head, “Something like that.”

  Kit’s gaze wandered across the space, playful at first. Then her eyes caught the bloodied dress crumpled on the floor. Her smirk faltered, her cheerful disposition crumbling as she took everything in—the discarded dagger, the bloody smears on Lumi’s lips, throat, hands.

  “Lumi.” Concern twisted Kit’s features. “You’re bleeding.”

  Lumi finished pulling her rags on, hiding the evidence beneath their itchy folds. She turned to face Kit, her expression carefully blank. “It’s not my blood.”

  “Then whose is it?” Kit stepped forward, voice lowering, “What happened?”

  Lie, the voice slithered. She mustn’t know the truth.

  “Three bandits.” The fib slipped from her lips with alarming ease. “They tried to cash in on the emperor’s bounty. He killed them.”

  Kit froze. Her lips parted as though she might say something, but the words never came. Instead, she looked at Lumi—really looked at her.

  “Are you…alright?” Doubt threaded through each word.

  “I’m fine.” Lumi shrugged, “It’s over now.”

  Kit’s keen gaze remained on her. Lumi swore she could see right through her, past the facade, into the storm raging beneath the surface.

  “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

  Lumi’s chest hurt.

  Anything?

  She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. How could she tell Kit the truth? That the crimson gore wasn’t the emperor’s doing, but her own. That she had drained two bodies dry. That she had savored every drop.

  Gods, one of them was a father. That barely registered in the heat of the moment, but now it was all she could think about. He was scum, for sure. But his child didn’t deserve to be raised without a father.

  Because of her.

  It was all because of her.

  No, Lumi decided then. Kit couldn’t know. She could already imagine the revulsion that would twist the other girl’s features, the horror that would flare in her eyes.

  She wouldn’t understand. Lumi hardly understood it herself.

  “I’m fine,” Lumi repeated, though her voice cracked this time. She swallowed hard, the truth lodging itself deeper in her throat like a splinter.

  Kit reached out, fingers brushing against Lumi’s arm—a tentative gesture meant to reassure, “Lumi…”

  “I said I’m fine!” Lumi snapped, jerking her arm away. Her voice cut deeper than intended.

  Kit flinched, but didn’t retreat. Her hand hovered for a brief moment before falling to her side.

  “I’m sorry,” Lumi lowered her head in shame, turning away from Kit, “I had a long night.”

  A long morning, too, the voice cackled.

  “I just want to be left alone,” her words weren’t meant for Kit alone.

  The silence stretched. Lumi could feel Kit hesitate behind her, could hear the floorboards creak as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Just be careful, okay? Whatever’s going on…don’t let it consume you.”

  It was a little too late for that.

  Kit lingered for another moment, her presence heavy with unspoken words. Then she slipped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her.

  Alone again.

  The quiet swallowed her.

  Lumi had to fight the urge to run after her, to pour out every word she’d swallowed, every truth she’d left unspoken.

  But she couldn’t. The truth was a poison, and it would drag Kit down with her.

  She had to carry this burden alone.

  She squared her shoulders as a cold resolve settled over her. She would unravel the truth of what was happening to her, tear through the darkness until she understood it, until she could control it.

  She would make it right, no matter the cost.

  And if it consumed her in the end—so be it.

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