Clockwork Menagerie: A Shadows of Asphodel Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

outside a magnificent townhouse, more of a mansion. Konstantin did his best to look bored, as if he encountered luxury every day. Honestly, he was rather sick of royalty, particularly princes.
    Like that bastard of a necromancer, Wendel, who had had the nerve to kiss him…
    “Archmage Konstantin?” Alexsandr gave him a peculiar look.
    “Sorry. I find my mind wandering. Please, after you.”
    They entered the townhouse together. In the salon, guests mingled beneath glittering chandeliers. No sign of Himmel anywhere. Cradling a flute of champagne, Baron von Bach chortled as he gossiped with a gray-haired lady.
    “Is that the dowager countess?” Konstantin said.
    “No.” Alexsandr touched his elbow, startling him, and nudged him to the left. “Her.”
    A slim young brunette tilted her head, listening to a gentleman, diamonds sparkling in her ears. Red and gold butterflies perched in her hair, as if she were the most delectable flower, wings quivering in the slightest breeze.
    Squinting, Konstantin wove through the crowd to stare at the butterflies.
    Clockwork, of course.
    “Do you like them?” She peeked through her eyelashes, a head shorter than him.
    “They are exquisite.”
    A smile bent her lips. “Have we met?”
    “Now we have.”
    Her laugh chimed like birdsong. She held out a gloved hand so he might kiss the air above it. “Countess Zinoviya Victorova.”
    “Archmage Konstantin Falkenrath.”
    “Charmed.”
    If she thought he was flirting, she hadn’t the slightest clue. He never flirted with women. Well, he never flirted at all.
    Bravely, he plunged onward. “May I ask where you acquired your butterflies?”
    “Don’t you know?” The countess arched her eyebrows. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”
    His stomach knotted. How had he blundered? Were the butterflies a memento from her late husband? God, he hated diplomacy.
    “My apologies,” he said, sweating. “This is my first day in St. Petersburg.”
    “You are such a sweet young man.” She patted his wrist. “These butterflies are my own. It’s a little diversion of mine.”
    “A little diversion?” He shook his head. “What a modest thing to say.”
    Zinoviya averted her eyes. “It wouldn’t be proper for a lady such as myself to boast.”
    When the butler rang the gong, everyone proceeded into a dining room decorated with endless blue-and-white china plates. Konstantin found himself seated at the countess’s left; he spotted Himmel sitting across the table. The captain flicked his eyebrows upward in greeting, and Konstantin couldn’t help smiling.
    Just seeing him made him giddy like a lovesick boy.
    The young lady opposite Konstantin returned his smile, mistaking it as a compliment to her beauty, and fanned her pink cheeks. He tried not to wince; pretending to court the ladies in St. Petersburg would hardly be productive.
    Except, obviously, Countess Victorova herself.
    As the footmen poured white wine, Konstantin leaned closer to his target. “What other clockwork marvels have you created?”
    She lifted her shoulders in a little shrug. “This and that.”
    He sipped his wine, which tasted crisp with a hint of honey. “Have you studied technomancy at university?”
    “I leave such professional work for men more capable than me.”
    “You seem quite capable.”
    Her smile turned wistful. “Ever since my dear husband passed on, I have found such solace in decorative clockwork.”
    “Yes, it’s quite captivating.” He glanced into her eyes. “As are you.”
    She hid her smile behind her hand, demurely, as the footmen served borscht, a traditional cabbage soup garnished with dill and sour cream. Across the table, Himmel glanced at them and narrowed his eyes, no doubt eavesdropping.
    Konstantin smoothed his napkin. “May I look more closely at one of your butterflies?”
    “Why, certainly.”
    She unpinned an insect, a lock of her chestnut hair tumbling, and cradled it in her palm. With utmost delicacy, Konstantin transferred