CHAPTER NINE
ROZLYN
“We’re back in the tower!” Rozlyn gasped, the small square of fabric falling from her fingertips and drifting to the floor. She stared around the familiar dark-as-night room, the wardrobe now open. But only she and Haven stood there. No sign of Iseult or Nightshade.
“So we are.” Haven scowled, his pale eyes slitted. “You disobeyed me, maiden.”
She blinked. “You never said I couldn’t leave temporarily!”
“I wasn’t aware I had to be so specific,” he ground out.
“I would’ve asked, but you would’ve said no!” Her voice rose, coming out high-pitched at the tail end.
“Of course I would’ve. You need to stay here where nothing can happen to you.” He stepped closer, his head dipping toward hers so his nose was dangerously close to brushing hers. His citrusy scent enveloped her, the perfect blend of both sour and sweet, and although he had never been the second of the two, the smell matched him well.
“Instead, I find you in the ferryman’s manor when you’re my wife,” he continued.
Rozlyn jabbed a finger against his chest. “I wasn’t there to pleasure him. I was there to find a way to help your too-proud self since you were unwilling to do so. You should be grateful that someone wanted to help you.”
Haven caught her wrist, his fingers digging into her marriage cuff. “Don’t do it again.”
“I do believe this curse has turned you into a spoiled child. Unless this is how you’ve always been,” she said, wiggling out of his hold.
He remained quiet, his nostrils flaring as he inwardly brooded. The sunlight spilling through the window drew her attention, and Rozlyn pursed her lips as she opened the glass to peer out. To no surprise, the tower was once again in the Dawnbreak Court, the lush foliage sweeping across the land, the dark birds drawn to the tower like a moth to a flame.
As Nightshade stated—Haven’s curse was her curse.
Rozlyn dug her fingernails into her palms until they were the deepest crescent moons she could make. She’d known that the tower wouldn’t allow the entrance door to open during the day because of the ruckus the Marquis of Shadows had created by jumbling a spell, but she’d believed she wasn’t truly trapped here in the way he was. And at some point, regardless of the marriage cuff, if she’d had enough of this life, wanted to give up any future payment, she could’ve bid him a final goodbye, gone out the door at nightfall, and crossed over the border into Dawnbreak. Not be transported back to the tower as Haven had been!
Even though he’d been demanding, had tricked her into being his wife, she’d wanted to help him, to make his scowl vanish. If she’d cursed herself to a tower for two years, her demeanor might’ve changed in the same way his had. She’d always heard that the Marquis of Shadows was a man of few words, got what he wanted, and if one crossed him, well, they wouldn’t live to tell the tale.
Haven remained quiet behind her, but she could feel him glaring daggers at her back. Yet she should be the one glaring! She’d left the tower, risked her life, to help him, even if it was for nothing in the end. Or no, she’d uncovered the truth, so she was no longer so na?ve.
After resting her satchel on the floor, she took a deep breath and placed her hands against the window sill, then lifted herself out toward the ledge. Before her foot could brush the stone, Haven’s strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back inside. Only, he didn’t set her on the floor—he cradled her in his arms against his chest with a firm grip, his blazing pale eyes trained on hers as if she might disappear from him once more.
“Why are you such a careless woman?” He bared his teeth, his face shifting into gargoyle form for a brief moment. “You will not keep me trapped here by getting yourself killed.”
Laughter bubbled up Rozlyn’s throat, and she patted his cheek, his stubble tickling her palm. “Is that what you believed I was doing?”
“Why else would you be out there? You have no wings,” he said gruffly.
“Even if I decided to leap from the tower and end my life, that is my choice. Not yours, Haven,” Rozlyn stated, her tone serious. “But no, I only wanted to see if I would be pushed back inside by the wind too.” She placed a hand against his pompous mouth before he could speak. “If I slipped, you would’ve turned into your gargoyle and caught me before I struck the earth.”
She removed her hand so he could now speak. “Another foolish thought.” His warm breath mingled with Rozlyn’s, and his heavy gaze remained on hers until he was the first to break away.
“Since we have that settled, I will continue and see for myself.” Rozlyn wiggled from his arms, and he glowered but let her slide down from him so she could climb out the window.
As she stood on the ledge, a flock of ravens circled the tower, their shrill sounds reverberating throughout the forest. The wind tousled the ends of her long plait—her stomach plummeted, her heart lodged in her throat, and she trembled as she peered down at the grass below. Heights had never been her forte.
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Haven muttered.
“You have a wild imagination,” she stammered, clutching the stone of the window for dear life.
Haven grasped her wrist but didn’t yank her inside, only kept her from making a mishap. Still, it steadied her, and she slowly breathed in and out.
“We don’t have all day,” he said.
“Oh, but we do have all day,” she refuted. “We’re both cursed here, or did you forget?”
Unintelligible words escaped him, and she smiled. She lifted her foot and leaned forward to take a step against emptiness, when a burst of wind slammed into her like stone, plastering her against the tower wall.
And that was the only proof she needed. Rozlyn was indeed trapped in the Marquis of Shadows’ home like him. Or at least a prisoner during daylight.
“Get inside, maiden.” Haven didn’t wait for her response and gently tugged her through the window. “Enough foolishness.”
“I had to make certain,” she said, brushing the dirt from her dress. “You’ve left important truths out. More than once, I might add.”
Haven admitted nothing and held out his hand, his shadow unraveling from the depths beneath the marquis’ flesh. It wafted in his palm, hovering like smoke. “Hair,” he demanded.
“You could ask nicely,” she huffed. “I could deny you after all.”
He arched a brow and smirked. “Would you like us both to be stone gargoyles outside the tower? Do you prefer the left or right side of the window? Your choice.”
Rozlyn held her tongue since words would do no good in this circumstance. She retrieved the scissors from her satchel, snipped a lock of red hair, and threw it at his feet.
“Well, that wasn’t nice of you.” The edges of Haven’s lips curled up, and she reprimanded herself for thinking how much more handsome he appeared in that moment as he picked up her hair. He replaced the golden curl in his locket, his heavy stare returning to hers. “Since you trapped my assistant in your wardrobe and ran off without my knowledge, it’s clear I can’t trust you.” He snapped his fingers and two shadows slithered out of his chest, one seeping through the floor and the other crawling up the window to encase the open space in inky darkness. “You won’t sneak out again.”
Rozlyn pressed her hand against the shadow cloaking the window. The shadow didn’t budge at all—as if it were made from stone. “You’re holding me prisoner now?” she hissed, whirling around on him.
“Did you assume I wasn’t before? I didn’t think to spell that out for you, but it seems you don’t take subtleties well.” He shrugged.
“Were you this controlling with Vivienne?” Rozlyn asked, unable to keep the lady’s name from slipping.
“Controlling?” Haven scoffed. “What have I done that’s so terrible? The hair I take grows back. You’ve been able to fiddle around with garments all night instead of fucking strangers at the brothel. In the end, you’ll be paid a fortune for your time here. And what do I ask from you? Simply to stay put. At the end of the day, you should be thanking me.”
What an arrogant man ! “I’m still cursed!” she shouted, waving her hands in his face. “Which was done without my knowledge, I might add.”
“Most curses aren’t preceded by a warning.” Haven rolled his eyes. “Besides, it will be lifted eventually, we will be unwed, and then you’ll be free of me and this tower.”
Rozlyn bit the inside of her cheek. She had freely come to the tower, knowing that sorcerers held power, that the marquis hadn’t come outside his home in two years. It was her fault for not asking enough questions and taking a leap of faith to achieve her dream. And although she may have been na?ve, he’d still tricked her.
“Tonight,” he continued, “when I leave, you will be obedient with Iseult.”
Rozlyn thought about how she’d easily pinned the marquis down at Nightshade’s... She perked up, folding her hands in front of her. “I can come with you. Your fighting skills aren’t up to par, and I could watch your back in Souldark.”
Haven shook his head. “Your place is in this tower.”
“I’m only offering my help, is all.” She sighed.
“I don’t want your fucking help,” he said. “What you did last night by going to the ferryman’s was the opposite of helpful.”
“I didn’t leave here to see him ,” she drew out slowly. “I was on my way to the castle to find Vivienne.”
“ Vivienne ,” he seethed, his hands gripping his hair as he angrily paced across the room before stomping back toward her. “You would’ve ruined everything .”
The way his nostrils flared, his eyes blazed like a crackling fire, and his face stained scarlet might’ve made anyone else cower. But he was all bark and no bite with her, and besides that, he already admitted he needed her.
“You two were close before, and she’s a sorceress,” Rozlyn murmured. “I figured she might hold more power since she’s married to the Lord of Souldark.”
“Fuck Adham,” he snarled. “That bastard will pay soon enough.”
Rozlyn blinked, understanding crashing into her like a massive sea wave. She mulled over every interaction she’d had with the marquis since coming to this tower—Haven’s desperation to remain in Souldark, his annoyance at dawn every day, and not only because he was trapped in his home, but because they weren’t in the barren court. It shouldn’t have mattered where the tower was located as long as the spell could be broken. Yet Vivienne was in Souldark, and the Marquis of Shadows didn’t care that she was married to the lord. He didn’t want to move on and get over his old lover.
“You want Vivienne back,” she whispered. “You want to remove the lord from her life and have her choose you.”
Haven’s jaw tightened, and he didn’t deny it or spin an untruth.
“You can’t force people to return your affections,” Rozlyn said softly and placed her hand against his arm. He didn’t jerk out of her touch, only remained quiet as she thought of her patron Lucius and how she’d only ever cared for him as a friend. Nothing more. Lucius couldn’t make her love him, just as Haven couldn’t make Vivienne. “Murdering the lord will only make Vivienne hate you . Patrons wish for courtesans to love them all the time, but they rarely ever do.” They were taught not to, and that was to protect both the hearts of the courtesans and their patrons.
“Don’t ever mention anything of love again. You know what your duty is to me.” His voice came out low, deadly, as he backed away from her, then slammed the door behind him, leaving her alone.
Rozlyn’s shoulders fell. “A broken man with a broken heart.” Even though she’d never met Vivienne, killing the lord would be a cruel fate for her. Haven needed time to himself, and Rozlyn needed sleep after a long night.
Draping her long plait over her shoulder, Rozlyn unbound her hair, then removed her boots. As she padded toward the bed, a gentle knock came at the door. Was Haven coming to apologize to her? It would be very unlike him to do so. And her assumptions were accurate when she opened the door to find Iseult standing before her with a tray of biscuits, berries, and tea in his skeletal hand.
“You promised when you returned that we would trust each other,” he said. “I believe we may start now.”
She nodded with a small smile. “We may. I’m sorry again for earlier. I hope Haven wasn’t angry with you.”
“Fear not, my duties remain the same to Marquis. I’m happy.” It was clear in his tone that he sincerely cared about Haven—someone needed to.
“Did you know that I’m cursed too?” she asked. His answer wouldn’t make a difference since they were starting fresh, but she still would like to know.
Iseult’s jaw parted in surprise and he shook his head. “I’m Marquis’ assistant. That is all. He doesn’t confide in all things with me, but he is my priority. And now, so are you, Rozlyn.”
Her chest tightened at how innocent and loyal he was. “Thank you.” Her smile spread her cheeks. If her family at the brothel ever got to truly know Iseult, they would absolutely adore him.
He placed the food tray in her hands. “Get some rest. I must prepare the spell room for when you and Marquis awake.”
Rozlyn bid him farewell and set the tray on the night table. She ate a warm buttered biscuit and drank down the chamomile tea before peeling the dress from her body and slipping beneath the silken sheets.
As Rozlyn closed her eyes, she smiled while imagining herself in her very own shop with wall-to-wall beautiful dresses. She counted gown after gown to drift off into sleep, but her thoughts continued to turn toward the Marquis of Shadows, wondering what he was like when he’d been Vivienne’s lover.