At some point, I managed to force myself to walk back to the garden and gather the roses I’d collected for Odessa’s bath, still spilled across the path. I was still in shock but slowly processing the events that had just occurred. It was slowly sinking in, just how close I had come to dying, and as I picked up the scattered roses, tears sprang to my eyes again.

“I’m not going to cry,” I whispered. “I’m alive.”

The scene replayed itself over and over in my mind as I made my way back to Odessa’s room and helped her draw the bath, scattering rose petals in the water while she bathed and chattered about what to wear for the ball.

I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about my reaction to the look the duke had given me. Why would my heart race like that? Why would my cheeks burn?

At some point, Odessa drew me back to the present by changing the subject from gowns to her brother. “What did you do to stir my brother to such anger?”

“I’m not sure,” I said quickly. There was no way I could admit the truth to her.

Her thin brows furrowed. “It was odd, that you dared to stand up to him.”

I had nothing to say to that because I didn’t quite agree. It wasn’t odd that I’d done it. What was odd was that I was alive to talk about it. That should have—and almost was—a death sentence. In the game, even the slightest transgression would send someone to the chopping block. The duke wasn’t to be crossed, and I’d not only crossed him, but I’d done it to his face.

Odessa smiled as if what had transpired was nothing out of the ordinary. And I guess for her, it really wasn’t. She’d lived with her brother and his legendary temper for most of her life.

“Well, whatever it was, you shouldn’t do it again,” she advised.

I only nodded, wondering what she would say if she knew the truth, that her brother wanted me to spy on her and that my refusal to do so was the only reason I’d almost lost my head. But telling her would only make things worse, I was sure of that much.

After Odessa had finished bathing and was dressed again, I retreated to my own room, once again running the events of my near execution over in my mind. I was trying—and currently failing—to remember if there had ever been someone in the game who refused the villain’s orders—especially a villain as prone to beheading as Duke Inferno. It just…never happened.

Which meant that something was wrong—though I wasn’t going to complain. I was still alive and that was all I had really hoped for. But I still couldn’t stop myself from questioning where I’d gone wrong. After all, I’d tried to avoid the duke, and within a few minutes of landing in the game, I had not only interacted with him, but he’d learned my name.

And the way he looked at me…the way his murderous fingers felt against the skin of my throat…none of that should have caused my body to react the way it did. That just wasn’t supposed to happen. He was the villain! And not only that, but he’d also been ready to have me executed!

But putting aside my reaction, all of this made me wonder if I should have stuck to my initial plan, to stay out of his way and keep Odessa on target for the ball, and then let love—with maybe a little push or two—take its course. It was always what happened anyway, the only outcome in question was which suitor Odessa ended up with. The only difference was that Felicity never lasted until the end of the game.

But the fact that I was still alive…it had to mean that the rules were somehow different this time. It could just be the update, or it could mean that my presence here, and my actions based on what I already knew…had already altered the game.

Groaning, I flopped back onto my small bed. I hated the uncertainty of new rules. How in the world was I supposed to survive if I didn’t know what would or wouldn’t send me to the chopping block? My greatest advantage in this place had always been my knowledge of it, but if things really were unpredictable now, what did I have left?

I started running through my very limited options. The duke had given me a short time to decide what I wanted to do. If I refused his demand to spy on Odessa, it was all but certain he would kill me. He might not have said it when I questioned him, but I’d seen his gaze on the chopping block. If I lied and pretended to spy, I was pretty sure the outcome would be the same. The duke would eventually discover my deceit, and no amount of standing up to him would change that.

And then there was my other option: spying on Odessa. If I agreed to it, I would not only betray Odessa, but I could also end up endangering her being able to find true love, which in turn would make my own chances of survival dwindle. Not to mention it pissed me off just to consider actually helping the sadistic duke. Sure, he was hot as hell, but beauty only ran skin deep. Beneath that attractive mask was a dark, dangerous killer. I would just have to remember that the next time he gave me a certain look.

Sighing, I rose and went to the small, scratched-up mirror to fix my messy hair. I looked like I’d been dragged through the yard—which, I guess, was exactly what had happened.

But as I tried to tame the locks into something a little less wild, I remembered the duke’s backhanded compliment. He’d said I wasn’t unattractive. So did that mean he found me attractive? But since when did the villain ever care? It wasn’t like he was supposed to have a love story. He was just here to be a stumbling block between Odessa and her true love, nothing more.

A pair of scissors on a table caught my eye, and I picked them up, a dark thought beginning to blossom. There was another option I hadn’t considered, but I was almost too afraid to let it take shape.

Maybe I could beat the duke at his own game.

I picked up the scissors, eyeing the sharp end. If I killed him before he killed me…well, how difficult would it be to do that? The hardest part would probably be getting close enough to him, but then again, he’d given me 3 days to give him an answer. I could pass word along that I had made up my mind, and when he called me to his side, I could then plunge the scissors into his very muscular and very broad chest. It would be a shame to ruin such a fine physique, but…

“No, don’t think like that,” I muttered. “Don’t let his looks fool you, Felicity. He is evil through and through.” He was a complete terror to everyone, the people who worked for him, and even to his sister, someone he should have loved.

As I held the scissors, I imagined myself actually doing it, taking them and plunging the sharp point into his chest. I’d played lots of video games in my life. Killing an enemy warrior or any other sort of villain was fun. It was the culmination of hours spent working through the game; it was supposed to be satisfying. And considering that the duke had threatened to kill me more than once already, it should have been an easy thing to do it, to think of it like any of those other instances.

But this wasn’t like all those other times. This wasn’t a game—or at least, it didn’t feel like one, not when I was living in it. I already knew there was real blood here. I had seen that when I cut myself on the rosebush before. Real blood, real death. Killing someone who lived and breathed…could I do it? I didn’t think so. Just imagining it made me feel nauseous.

No. No way I could do something like that. Not only did it feel wrong, but even if I was somehow able to deliver that deadly blow, the duke’s guards would only kill me immediately after. So what was there to gain in the end?

I just needed time. He had given me three days, so I would use those to avoid him at all costs while attempting to find a way out of this—if there even was one. And I just had to hope he wouldn’t change his mind again before I could do it.