Chapter 76
Belle
I headed straight to the library, but paused at the threshold, my feet suddenly leaden, a cascade of dark memories rushing back. Sarkis.
Don’t be a fool, I chided myself. He isn’t in there.
But I knew what would be: the memory of that monster touching me, the hotness of his breath, his threats and vile promises spreading over me like rancid oil. Hundreds of books, broken and tattered.
It was almost more than I could face.
He’s dead. He can’t hurt you.
Mustering my courage, I reached for the handle, but footsteps in the corridor pulled my attention away.
“Lady Marquette!” a woman cried, and I turned.
Isolde Morgrave was streaming down the hall in a silver and yellow dress, with two other immortal ladies on her heels, waggling her broad fan in greeting.
I stifled a groan. She was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. I would’ve run, but they could move faster than the wind and wouldn’t be denied.
“Imagine finding you here, of all places,” Lady Morgrave said breathlessly as she drew close. “What a coincidence.”
Her all-too-casual tone made me certain that the court gossip and her coven had been lurking in the corridors waiting for me.
“Have you seen inside?” Isolde asked, waving her fan at the library doors. “Lord Locke hasn’t permitted anyone to enter.”
I desperately racked my brain for an excuse to hurry away. “I don’t particularly want to see.”
“Weren’t you there?” asked the woman with mounds of curled red hair. “I heard the king staked that handsome General Sarkis to the table and ripped his fangs out right in front of you.”
My mouth slicked with bile. So much blood.
Lady Morgrave fanned herself vigorously. “I would absolutely die if any male staked a rival suitor right in front of me like that, let alone the king. It must be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
My stomach churned. It was awful. Barbaric and repulsive. And as much as I hated to admit it, distantly romantic, in its own bloody and murderous way. The ferocity of Valen’s protectiveness had awoken a wild thrill within me that I couldn’t deny—even after his betrayal.
I was spending way too much time around these psychopaths.
Or, had those desires always been there, buried deep in a place I didn’t wish to look?
“Gods, these are exciting times,” said the woman in purple lurking beside Lady Morgrave’s shoulder. “Clandestine attacks. An entire army incinerated! Did you see the dragon? It was incredible.”
“Of course she saw it, you brainless dolt,” Isolde snapped. “Lady Marquette rode out alone into the heat of battle.” She turned back to me, relentless curiosity illuminating her face. “However did you survive, let alone get back in a single piece?”
I swallowed, stepping back and bumping against the door.
“Look at her leg,” the woman with the red hair said. “She’s been hurt. I thought I smelled something delectable.”
Three pairs of eyes drifted down to my thigh where blood coated the fabric, the triplet suddenly regarding me like a pack of half-starved ferrets. Oh gods, what must I look like?
“Is that the king’s blood?” Isolde asked as her eyes rose back to my mouth.
I resisted the urge to lick my lips. Was my heartbeat accelerating? Please don’t let it accelerate.
“She’s been healed,” the lady in purple said slowly, as if grinding out a difficult theorem in her head. She sniffed. “By the king, nonetheless…”
They stared, and I wanted to melt into the wood, or be consumed by dragon fire. Perhaps both.
“My lady!” a woman’s voice echoed down the hall. My head whipped around.
Loreli. She was alright.
Relief flooded through me, then guilt dragged it back. With everything that had happened—my wound, Valen, Locke, the prophecy I’d forgotten about the destroyed tower. I should’ve checked on her as soon as I returned.
I clutched her hands. “You’re safe! I saw the tower fall—”
“What is the meaning of this interruption, girl?” Isolde blurted, pulling up to her towering height and glaring with murderous intent.
Loreli slipped her hands from mine and curtsied low. “I’m sorry, my ladies, but the king sent me. He demands to see Lady Marquette at once.”
Isolde looked like her favorite pet had just been beheaded: as in distraught, but also morbidly curious. “We were in the middle of a conversation…”
Loreli curtsied to me. “I’m sorry to speak out of turn, but the king said at once, my lady.”
I made my excuses and apologies and extracted myself from the hovering women.
“You must join us for tea!” the lady with red hair pleaded.
Isolde rolled her eyes. “Hush yourself, Clarissa. Tea is pedestrian. We shall have a game of cards and blood cocktails—she’s obviously acquired the taste for it.”
Bile burned my throat. The worst part was that she wasn’t entirely wrong. The sight of blood still repulsed me—even my stained clothes—yet I’d felt nothing but desire when I looked at his.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him.
As soon as we were around the corner, Loreli pulled me into one of the servant’s passages.
My palms were damp with relief, not to mention trepidation. What did Valen want? To apologize? Doubtful. To crush my heart again? Perhaps. To use me for his own purposes without telling me why?
Most definitely.
I wanted to despise him, to head the other direction and ignore his summons, but I couldn’t.
Pulling myself from the bitter thoughts, I took stock of our progress. “This isn’t the way to the king’s chambers. Where are we going?”
Loreli blushed. “I’m sorry, but I lied. The way those three were looking at you, I was afraid they might confuse you with a cocktail. I thought—” She swallowed. “I most likely presumed too much.”
Valen hadn’t summoned me. Of course he hadn’t. Why would he?
The damp cold of the servant’s passages seeped through my clothes, and I felt the exhaustion I’d been fighting off for hours.
Loreli must have caught my crestfallen expression, because she asked. “Is everything alright?”
Absolutely not.
I shouldn’t have been excited that the king had sent for me, or so dejected that he hadn’t. He’d already proven what he thought of my value.
The weight of it all pressed in. I had two weeks or less to break the curse. I was the only one who could do it. And the man who was cursed, the man who I was falling for, didn’t believe in me enough to tell me the truth.
Too drained and ransacked to feel much more, I forced a smile. “I’m fine, Loreli. Thanks for rescuing me. Facing down those ladies was quite heroic.”
She blushed, but there was a little pride in the way she lifted her chin. “To speak plainly, those three give me the creeps.”
“That they do.” A genuine smile replaced the false one. “What were you even doing in this wing?”
“Looking for you. I needed to know you were okay after the attack. I assumed if you were anywhere, you’d be in the library.”
Or outside of it, trying the muster the courage to enter like a child outside a house of prayer.
My chest tightened. “What happened to everyone in the tower that collapsed? We should go there. I can help.”
“Stop,” Loreli said, grabbing my shoulder and rooting me in place. “You helped silence the army’s siege guns. You’ve done enough already, and you need rest. That’s how you can help.”
“No.” I shook my head. “There could be people trapped. My magic—”
“Is not needed,” she said, cutting me off.
“There are dozens of immortals here who can easily move stones and heal the wounded, which your magic cannot do. It gives the lords and ladies a chance to prove their worth, and frankly, you’re more battered than half the people that they’ve pulled from the rubble. ”
If I looked in Valen’s magic mirror, what would I see? Likely a disheveled mess with bloodstained clothes on one side, a fool with powers and purpose she didn’t understand on the other.
“You need a bath, sleep, and time to heal,” Loreli said, squeezing my hand. “Then you’ll be strong enough to do whatever comes next.”
It was hard to walk away, but I knew she was right. This was one burden I didn’t have to carry. I had a curse to break—because if I didn’t, Valen would fall under the control of the demon and burn the castle to the ground.
I didn’t intend to sleep more than an hour, but the hot bath had lulled me into sleeping through the night and well into midday.
I wrenched myself out of bed as soon as I awoke, splashing water on my face. I threw on the dress that my new maid had left, then hurried to the library with only a stale bun from the day before in my belly.
What lay in wait hadn’t changed, but I braced myself against the brutal memories and pushed through the library doors.
My breath stilled. A cataclysm stretched out before me. The library had become my one and only sanctuary in this godsforsaken castle, but now, books littered the floor, many of their spines broken, and their splayed covers a mosaic of color. Tables lay overturned and paper was strewn everywhere.
Tears welled in my eyes. I did this. My magic did this.
But it hadn’t been only me. The general had been there.
A cold shiver slid down my spine at memories that still felt raw and ragged. Sarkis stalking me through the library. His hand around my throat. Those vile promises.
You survived. He didn’t.
If only it was that simple.
I picked a path through the destruction, scooping pages of a centuries-old manuscript on animal husbandry off the floor.
Gods only knew where the rest of it lay.
I set them down on a chair and searched for the books and notes I’d been working on.
Instead, my gaze landed on the bloodstained table where Valen had staked the general.
The memory arrived without permission. The sudden thunder of his presence. The way his feral gaze had locked on me, hungry and possessive. My blood had sung for him in that moment, and it shamed me that some part of it still did.
I jerked my eyes away. Focus on your work.
Instead, I dropped down on the broad stairs and stared at the violent disorder. Where would I even begin?
I was still sitting like a lump, trying to come up with a plan, when the door clicked behind me. I leapt to my feet, summoning my magic. A book soared into the air, and I thrust my hand forward, ready to unleash a fury on my attacker.
Gregoire darted for cover behind a pillar. “Hold on. It’s me!”
I let out a relieved breath, and the heavy tome floated back to the floor. Sarkis and his men were dead. I was safe. It was just the damned huntsman.
“Sorry. I guess I’m on a hair trigger.” I plopped back down on the step, more exhausted than before, and not in the least bit concerned at how unladylike it was.
Like a cat caught jumping at its own shadow, Gregoire sauntered forward as though he hadn’t just been hiding. “After what you’ve been through, I can only imagine.” He scanned the room, then whistled low. “Did the general do all this?”
I smiled weakly. “I wish I could blame it all on him, but it was mostly me.”
He picked up one of the tattered books, then looked pointedly at the broken and bloody table. Something fierce crept in at the corners of his mouth. “Then you did what you had to.”
When I didn’t answer, he came and took a seat next to me on the step. “I saw you in battle, making those bolts fly everywhere. You were astonishing. You rode a dragon. I wish I had your courage.”
I glanced over at him, certain I’d see a hint of mockery on his face, but there was only sincerity and concern. When had the huntsman become kind?
I leaned toward him and gently bumped my shoulder against his. “I saw you, too, leading the charge. If that is not courage, then I don’t know what is.”
An unreadable expression played across his face. Chagrin?
I raised my brows. “What?”
He leaned in. “Honestly, I was planning to lead from behind, but somehow, I got stuck with a fast horse. At least this one didn’t turn tail and drag me back to the castle.”
I laughed, clear and bright for the first time in…I didn’t know how long.
Gregoire looked a little dejected.
I patted his leg. “Fast horse or not, you were standing in your saddle screaming like a madman. You were very brave.”
He straightened, the momentary flicker of doubt gone. “I was kind of a hero, wasn’t I?”
“You were, and I’ll be sure to tell the court about it.”
He puffed out his chest. “Well, I’m sure they’ve already heard. But of course, another good word wouldn’t hurt.”
“Really, Gregoire. Thank you. Seeing you out there—it meant a lot.”
“Ah…good,” he said awkwardly, then cleared his throat and stood. “Now, what are we going to do about all of this? Can you use your magic?”
I sighed and stared at the piles of books spread across the floor. “Maybe, but they’ll need to be sorted first if I’m ever going to find anything in here again.”
“That’s easy. I’ll help.” He collected several books, then looked over at me expectantly. “Are we sorting by color or by size?”