Chapter 37 Devora
Devora
Scarven’s mansion was even spookier the third time around. Shadows hung from the dark turrets, taking forms that looked like monsters hiding beneath their silhouettes.
Home, sweet home, I thought bitterly.
The guards who escorted me from the Mysthelm base dropped me off in a guest suite, promising that a servant would be by with dinner soon.
“Oh, is Lord—”
My question was cut off by the door shutting in my face.
“—Scarven here?” I finished, deflated. Guess that was my answer.
It seemed strange that Scarven would invite me here knowing I had no place else to go, have me hand-delivered to his home, then be absent. Unless something was wrong. Unless he was suspicious.
Anxiety spread from my throat to my core like sludge, dripping down my insides. Maybe he was angry about the rescue mission from a couple nights ago. Maybe he thought I had something to do with it. Had I been too obvious? Did he know I’d eavesdropped on his conversation?
I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to shake off the sensation of eyes watching me. If he thought I was behind it, he would’ve killed me, right? Not bring me into his sanctuary.
Unless he was toying with me.
I groaned and rubbed at my eyes with the heel of my hand. I was going to drive myself crazy if I didn’t stop. I was here. I was in. The mission was working, and that was all that mattered.
Glancing around the room for the first time, I took in the four-poster bed with thick burgundy curtains hanging from the top, the nightstand trimmed in gold, the floor-length mirror next to a heavy armoire.
The fireplace to my left was already crackling, and a chaise lounge in the same burgundy fabric as the bed loomed in front of the flames.
It dripped with opulence. The kind of lifestyle Scarven obviously lived, if his soliloquy about carnal desires from the night of his party was any indication.
There was a knock on the door, and I jumped, thinking for a split second it was him. But a servant girl poked her head in, carrying a tray with plates of food and a carafe of water.
“May I come in, miss?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Yes, please.” I backed up so she could set the tray on the bench at the foot of the bed. “I actually had a question. Will Lord Scarven be—”
“The governor is busy. If that’s all, miss, then I’ll be back in the morning.” She gave me a hurried curtsy before stepping out of the room.
I let out a deep sigh. Fates, these people were dodgy. That did nothing to ease my stress.
I devoured the roasted pork and steamed potatoes, washing it down with a glass of water.
The clock on the wall read ten o’clock—it was safe to say Scarven wasn’t coming tonight.
I’d already checked in with Nox on the magical parchment when I got to the room.
A quick “I’m here,” followed by “Stay safe.” Only two words, but after our goodbye at the Keep, they wormed their way through my chest and nestled among my shadows.
I dropped my bag on top of the bed and dug through its contents, looking for a nightgown. Instead, my fingers brushed something soft and a little lumpy. Scratchy and fraying at the edges.
It was…oddly familiar.
I held my breath as I grabbed the fabric and pulled.
Out came a blue blanket.
It was thin and raggedy, with a touch of life left in it. The faded “Devora S” was stitched at the top right-hand corner.
I lifted it to my nose and breathed in the worn scent of salt and soap, of nights where sometimes all I had to my name were the clothes on my back and this blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I sucked in a breath as I scrunched the blanket in my hands, a sense of serenity sweeping over me.
It was just fabric. Tattered and barely large enough to cover my midsection.
I didn’t even remember receiving it, couldn’t recall the hands that folded my body inside of it.
But it was the only reminder that those people existed. That once upon a time, someone loved me. Someone treasured me.
And someone had brought it back to me.
Words failed. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind Nox had somehow secured this for me, and I didn’t know how to tell him what that meant. How to tell him that it felt like my heart was about to crack open.
A few teardrops fell from my lashes and down my cheek as I grabbed my enchanted parchment and charcoal, my hands shaking as I wrote two simple words.
Thank you.
It wasn’t until I’d gotten ready for bed and slipped under the covers, blue blanket clutched in my grip, that the paper heated with a response.
You’re welcome, darling.
Three days. I’d been in Scarven’s mansion for three days without a hint of the governor to be found. I was about to crawl out of my skin.
I convinced myself he somehow knew I’d been the one to help set his prisoners free and was now torturing me with some convoluted mind game. Seeing how long I’d last before I cracked under the pressure.
Every day, I worried he was gone because he’d found the Keep’s hiding spot and had ransacked it. I thought Nox was getting tired of my constant checking in during the days, but it was the only way to ease my fears.
The servants and guards weren’t treating me hostilely, at least. They weren’t exactly friendly, but otherwise, I felt like a normal guest. The same servant brought me breakfast in the morning before drawing me a hot bath.
I was allowed to roam the open, public spaces—the library, dining rooms, wine cellar, gardens.
Everywhere I went, guards were stationed up and down the halls, those lion masks they wore still eerily off-putting.
If I tried to venture down an abandoned wing or darkened corner, they abruptly turned me away.
When I followed the route we’d taken the night of his private party to get to the downstairs level, I was stopped.
It was obvious Scarven had laid out certain rules.
Even though he let me stay here, he didn’t trust me.
Or anyone, for that matter. I was scared to press my luck and raise any alarms by continuing to search where I was forbidden.
Personal growth, honestly.
But I could still practice my shadows. When nobody was around, I heard Thecae and Calyra’s voices in my head, guiding me and my magic.
I let it flow from me in the privacy of my room or the silence of an empty corridor.
My shadows were as hungry for information as I was.
They crept from my skin and along the cracks in the floor and doors, searching for sounds to bring back to me.
For something I could pass along to the Order.
Truth be told, I was growing lonely. In a way, it reminded me of the months spent in Nox’s tower, with only my festering thoughts to keep me company. At least I had my shadows now.
But when a knock sounded on my door on the fourth night, I found myself wishing for the silence.
“Selena,” Scarven said when I opened the door, eyeing me like I was his next meal. “It’s been far too long.”
I shoved down the fear his presence always brought and slipped back into the mask of Miss Selena Nyte. Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked my head. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“Never. Simply caught up with business. But no more of that—tonight, we’re going out.”
“Out? What should I wear?”
His gaze roved over me, lingering on my curves. He smirked. “Something you don’t mind getting dirty.”