Isalio showed no visible reaction to my offer to attend dinner. For a few seconds, he didn't even respond. Then he murmured, "Be ready in three hours," and he was gone before I could say another word.

Ten minutes later, the nerves kicked in.

What had I just agreed to, and what did it mean to be ready? All he had told me before was that I needed to play submissive. Unfortunately, I had little idea what that actually meant and even less faith in my acting skills. I had respected Leader Rakimar's authority, of course, but I had never really played submissive to her or to anyone else.

I tried to remember how the humans in the palace had behaved. Heads ducked, eyes averted, bodies pliable whenever their Demons touched them. Then I thought of the even more recent display of submission I had seen—how Isalio had held perfectly still as Danif unbuttoned his shirt. The memory nauseated me. If Isalio touched me like that, I would probably punch him before my brain had even fully registered what was happening.

A sound distracted me from my thoughts: cawing birds. I jogged to the window, braced a hand against the wall beside me, and peered down over the ledge. The black spots on the oak tree twitched spasmodically like flies on a lantern, and the calls grew louder and fiercer. The Keeper, just a tuft of white hair from my vantage point, circled the tree twice and then bolted toward the palace.

When I squinted, I could make out the crows' wings, spread open wide and beating the air. They were trying to fly away...but from what, and why right now? I remembered how Isalio had ignored everyone else to inquire about them when we first arrived. 'Keeper, have the crows made any noise today?' The Demons had clearly chained the birds there for some purpose, and Isalio had seemed very interested in the Keeper's answer, but I could not fathom what it all could possibly mean.

The ruckus grew so loud that the shrill calls rattled in my eardrums. Even a human standing where I stood would be able to hear them now.

With a wince, I stepped away from the window and tried to refocus on preparing for the dinner. I wasn't sure how to prevent myself from reacting if Isalio touched me unexpectedly, but I could at least practice the one thing he had already told me to do.

I needed to learn how to bow.

Dropping to a crouch, I planted my hands on the ground and tried to find the correct position with my heels and knees. My limited flexibility increased the challenge, but after pedaling out my feet a bit, I managed to sink my knees to the moss with my toes on the ground. Then I rested my forearms on the ground and lowered my forehead onto my hands. The mirror didn't extend low enough for me to see myself, but I was pretty sure I was mimicking the position correctly.

I rose to my feet and tried sinking to the ground in a smoother motion. Again, and then again. This was an exercise just like any other, a physical challenge I could master with practice. With this mindset, perfecting the bow became a point of pride. I was still a warrior—I was just learning to fight with different weapons.

But all of that fled my mind when Isalio reentered.

He wore the same blue shirt and jeans he had been in a few hours ago, but his energy had changed drastically. His skin was now smooth and glowing with health, and his eyes burned like hot coals. His perfectly combed hair revealed no trace of Danif's manhandling. There was power in his stance and in the set of his jaw; a predator once more.

An undeniable conclusion fell heavy from my tongue: "You fed."

"It was necessary."

"Why? Why do you need so much lifeforce, and why won't you take it from me?"

"It's funny you still think you have the right to interrogate me." His voice was unexpectedly cold, his face perfectly devoid of emotion. "Maybe I shouldn't bring you to this dinner. You'll probably just make things worse."

"I won't ask you questions during dinner."

"But will you play submissive? Because I don't think you're capable."

Even though I had questioned my own ability to survive the humiliation of submission, his assessment of my abilities irritated me. Besides, in the hours since I had agreed to attend the dinner, I had grown increasingly determined. He wasn't sending me to the barn, and I wasn't doing anyone any good just sitting in this room. I needed to do whatever it took to find out more about him and his family.

"I can do it," I said. "I practiced."

A glimmer of amusement softened his expression slightly. "You practiced? How could you practice submitting to me when I wasn't even here?"

"Well, I think I figured out how to bow."

He folded his arms over his chest, eying me with great interest. "Fine...show me."

But everything felt completely different now from when I had practiced alone. One little command, 'show me,' and the bow became his. With Isalio watching me, this was not a physical challenge to overcome—this was an act of self-degradation. My hands grew clammy. How could I kneel before the man who killed my family?

First Guardian, help me, I pleaded silently. But instead of the steady pulse that had once anchored my feet to the ground, I felt only damp moss.

"I thought not," he said, and he made a quarter-turn toward the door.

I dropped to my knees.

He faced me again as I folded forward in a slow, controlled movement. With all the determination of meeting an enemy in battle, I pressed my forehead to the floor.

I waited there for several seconds, then pushed up to a crouch and cocked an eyebrow at him. My heart thumped in anticipation of his response. I needed his approval, but I also feared his satisfaction. If he treated my bow as a true act of submission, my act would feel a little less pretend.

He cupped a hand over his face and shook his head. "Well, that was...something."

I forced my tone to remain even. "Something?"

His hand dropped, revealing a bemused half-smile. "That was the least submissive bow I've ever seen."

Both relieved and disappointed, I swaggered to my feet and brushed the moss from my knees. "Why? What did I do wrong?"

"Hard to say, exactly...might have been that you were looking at me the whole time like you wanted to murder me."

I pushed my tongue against my teeth. "I didn't look at you the whole time, though."

"That's true. There was that bit at the end when the moss had to face the wrath in your eyes instead."

My brow furrowed. "You think you could do better?"

"No," he said. "I know I could do better."

"Then you show me."

He hesitated, darting a glance at the door. I expected a reprise of his 'I don't bow for anyone anymore.' Instead, he gave a slow nod. "Alright, but just once, so watch closely."

His head ducked, but his long-lashed gaze remained on mine—softer than before, more vulnerable. The line of his shoulders shifted subtly, and his feet drew closer together. I watched in disbelief as he slipped to his knees and rolled down into a bow. His forehead kissed the moss as if to worship it. No...as if to worship me.

My gut squeezed. Some cruel, vengeful part of me reveled in seeing him on his knees, but my satisfaction was tainted by an unsettling suspicion.

He had done this many times before.

In one swift movement, he returned to his feet and resumed his earlier confidence—almost. He widened his stance, but his arms tucked too close to his sides, and he seemed to be having trouble meeting my eyes. If I wasn't mistaken, I even saw faint spots of pink brushing his cheekbones. I felt like I should say something, but none of my thoughts were things I was willing to voice aloud.

Mostly, I wanted to know when a Demon of his status could possibly have learned to bow like that.

He cleared his throat. "So, what do you think? Can you do what I just did?"

Seeing his discomfort made it easier to voice mine. "I don't know. It...it was a lot easier before you got here."

He breathed a laugh. "Yeah, I bet. The moss is much nicer than I am." He thought for a moment, pulling the bottom corner of his lip through his teeth. "Maybe that's what you should focus on—the moss. Or you can imagine someone else in my place. Someone you don't mind bowing to."

"Is that what you did just now? Imagined someone else?"

He blinked, appearing off-balance for a few seconds. Then he shook his head and hardened his jaw. "We have no time for silly questions. The dinner begins soon, and if you still want to do this thing, I need to tell you the rules."

"Rules?"

"How to play submissive."