15. Fire.
Katarina.
I walk slowly down the stairs, more nervous than I’ve felt in a long time. It’s a different kind of nerves. A kind that makes me feel vulnerable and exposed, something completely new to me.
Demyan and Killian are waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, Killian with his unreadable expression and Demyan with a glint of satisfaction as he takes in my outfit. The dress I’m wearing is short, a shimmering silver that clings to every curve of my body. I tried to grab a coat, but the girl who helped me with my makeup made it very clear that Demyan wouldn’t allow it. I’m an object expected to be bought, and for someone to buy me, I must be on display.
“Remember,” Demyan says when I reach him, “when Boris asks you to go to Scarlatta, don’t accept right away. Based on what
