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reminded me of some other stories. I told you my grandfather was interested in magic, didn’t I? He knew all kinds of stories about many types of demons.”
    He took a sip from the glass, offering it back to her. Miranda recoiled. 
    “Demons can be very useful friends. You are lucky.”
    “Lucky,” she scoffed.
    “Yes, to have met me. You thought I was jesting when I said I know magic, but it’s true. My grandfather controlled several demons. I cannot say I have the same skills, though I know some small magic and the mixing, the creation, of certain poisons, certain talismans.”
    “Did you kill your wife with poisons or talismans?”
    He gave her a bored look and shrugged. “I hastened an inevitable ending.”
    "Nikolaos was right.”
    “Don’t be a hypocrite,” Darius said with a sigh. “How many people have you killed?” 
    “I haven’t killed anyone,” she said. 
    “That fiancé, no? Did you wish it very badly? Did you stay awake at nights and ask your little friend to take his life? It listened, didn’t it?”
    She had hated him. The pig, always trying to touch her. That night she had wished Hadrian would break his neck and she had placed her hands against the cool surface of the mirror and prayed for it.
    I wish you would die.
    A muffled sob escaped her throat. Miranda pressed a hand against her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to will away the memory but it was etched inside her head.  
    “Who else? Another suitor.”
    “No.”
    “Really?”
    “Giustan,” she said, her eyes snapping open. Surely he was a sorcerer for the word seemed to be pulled from her rather than uttered voluntarily. 
    He stared at her, curious and despite the desire to say no more she found herself speaking.
    “He was my friend. He was kind.”
    “You killed him.”
    “No. It killed him.”
    “But it is you. Unintentional, undeserved perhaps, but still you.”
    “Oh, what do you know?”
    “I know you,” Darius said. “I recognized you.” 
    “We are not the same,” she muttered. 
    “You’ve run your whole life from the simple truths but here I am, ready to teach you.”
    “Teach me some wicked spell? Some sorcery and devilry? Is that why the King cast you off?” she asked. 
    “Devilry? I am offering you the chance to become mistress of your own destiny. Or shall you be a cowering maiden for the rest of your life? Will you avoid every man, every embrace, for fear the demon shall kill them? You have power, but no idea how to wield it. I know how to. A crown upon your head and the world at your feet. That is what I can give you.”
    “It’s a trick. If you truly had such power you’d have a crown already, but you are not received in court anymore. You said so yourself.” 
    “Two is better than one. The two of us together, why…we could have anything we wanted.” 
    He was proposing an evil, wicked thing. And yet…oh, she’d longed for a different life. A place where she did not have to cower and hide, always alone and unhappy. Where they would not taunt her, calling her cruel names and shunning her as though she carried the plague.  
    “Nikolaos…” 
    “Knows nothing at all.”
    He held her chin up, as if to have a better look at her and Miranda slapped the hand away. He answered by seizing her wrist and pulling her closer to him, their foreheads touching and his breath upon her face.  
    “Let me go,” she blurted. 
    “Where? With dear Nikolaos? He’s a little bland.” Darius smirked. “He’s terrified of you and yet he is consumed with desire. Unable to make a choice, whether to kill or take you, he’s resorted to abandoning you in some far off shore. What is his plan? Are you being delivered to a nunnery? He’s a coward, no chances of him breaking the spell with a chaste kiss.”
    She trembled and inhaled slowly, trying to steady her racing heart. 
    “I would kill you or I would lay with you, but I wouldn’t stand in between. You pick a road Miranda, and you follow