Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
“Didn’t you know? We murdered our parents.”
The rotted version of her whispered wetly in her ear.
“Now, it’s our turn.”
Sunlight seared her eyes. Lux stood upon the curved balcony off her bedchamber and basked in it until the memory of her horrid nightmare burned away.
Her bare feet were cold against the stones, the iron railing like ice beneath her fingertips, and she stretched to the tips of her toes, enough so she could see over and down.
All the way to the treacherous shore below.
Corvin had given her a room facing the sea.
The autumn breeze tugged against her nightgown and brought with it again the taste of salt; she inhaled it greedily. All the while the sun lifted farther above the horizon.
Never in her wildest imaginings. Never had she pictured something so beautiful, and never had she felt so small yet so perfectly suited.
Aside from that nightmare near dawn, she’d slept soundly and woken with a new determination.
She might have been lonely. She might have missed whom she’d left behind.
But that didn’t mean she would wallow away her limited time here.
There were more important things to be done than all that.
A knock came upon the door, and she turned.
“Come in.”
A dour-faced woman peered around the wood. Followed closely by a second face higher above it. Lux left the balcony and moved back into the room.
“Good morning. I’m here to deliver a message,” said Manphry, and nudged the shorter woman through. The pair entered her bedchamber, and while Manphry inclined his head, the woman dipped with a quick bend of her knees.
“I’m assigned to your upkeep,” said the woman.
Lux raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused. Is she the message?”
Manphry’s obvious boredom was redirected to the woman beside him. “Mind your duties in silence.”
Chastised, the woman hung her head and proceeded to lope toward the wide fireplace. Selecting the poker from the stand, she prodded the flames back into existence.
“My apologies.” Manphry returned his hands to his back. “I’ve come to inform you Lord Corvin has invited you to breakfast with him in the morning room. If you wish to decline, however, that is at your behest, and I will send your meal up as soon as I am able.”
“Oh…” She glanced at the washroom, where the tub caught her eye, tempting her in. “Immediately?”
Manphry, noticing where her attention landed, said, “It is early yet, and a delay is allowed. Shall I tell him one hour?”
Allowed? How magnanimous. She might have been truly irritated if she’d believed the wording actually came from the collector. This footman seemed as wooden as his eyes; she didn’t doubt he chose the delivery himself. “Please do.”
“Hildred will show you the way at that time.” With a pointed glance to the woman now coughing over the smoke she’d stirred, he reached for the door. “Come, Hildred. You’ve other rooms to see to.”
“Yes,” said Hildred, and having returned the poker to its place, followed doggedly behind.
The door closed behind them, and Lux pulled in her lip. She didn’t like this Manphry, she decided. She especially didn’t like how he treated his peers. Or did he think the woman was beneath him in some way and so talked down to her? Her teeth sank harder into her flesh before their release.
Lux tugged the thick nightgown over her head. The air nipped at her skin, and she hurried into the washroom to the tub, gripping the handles until water spewed out. It didn’t take long to warm—a marvel all its own.
Saints above, she’d never yearned for a bath so much as this one.
But no…she supposed that wasn’t quite true.
Because here, she was not coated in fear and the black grime of a devouring wood.
Here, she could only complain of travel dust and salt, no matter the layers of it that had accumulated.
The Maidenway Inn had balked at her request for bathing the night before.
When the water neared the tub’s lip, she swung one leg over the edge. The rest of her quickly followed suit, and she sank like a stone beneath the surface. There, in the quiet dark, she allowed her consciousness to follow.
It was truly mesmerizing, the human soul. Contained within a perfect orb and made up entirely of light. Its warmth permeated her consciousness; she wanted to bask in it like she’d done beneath the sun outside. On cue, her lungs began an expected protest. She ignored it as best she could.
Lux knew the sight and feel of corruption, had slowly begun to study what sorts of things brought about its strangling reach, but she could see no evidence of it inside her now. By all appearances, it didn’t look broken. So what had she unbalanced?
She ground her teeth at the lack of answers. Yes, she might have done something wrong, dug too deep, but she would never stay damaged. Even if she had to scour this place for more than lifeblood. Even if she had to break into locked vaults for a cure.
I swear I will if this healer turns out useless.
By now, her chest felt near to erupting; she knew she couldn’t stay beneath the quiet anymore. Lux rose to the surface on a gulping gasp.
She opened her eyes—and screamed.
Her bathwater had turned black. Not dark with dirt, but midnight black and oil slick. She scrambled backward against the edge and watched it drip slow and rotten from her fingers. Her mind seized in paralysis; she couldn’t comprehend what had changed. Of what she’d done to ruin the water.
The smell wafted around her. Fetid and sour, it stank of dead things long gone. It smelled like the devouring wood, the dark moss that had squelched beneath her step. Her hands shook as she raised them higher. And it was then a scratching came from the wall marking her dressing room.
Only the piping? But every hair on her body stood on end.
“To hell with this,” she breathed and leapt from the tub.
Her feet slipped sharply from beneath her.
Lux landed hard on her side, her hip meeting the flagstones first, knocking out all her air. Not even the rug could prevent the bruise she knew would come. She pulled a slow breath, gritted her teeth against the throbbing pain, and pushed herself to her elbows.
She stilled.
Her hands. Her legs.
They were wet—dripping yet—but with water. Only water. She flung herself up to peer into the tub.
Perfectly clear. The room smelled of soap and nothing else.
Goosebumps remained all over her body, but because the water steamed yet and her pulse beat with fright, Lux shakily climbed back in.
“It’s only your imagination running,” she murmured to the stillness. Nevermind it’d never run to that extent before.
She sank until she could hardly see the seam of the wall. The scratching didn’t come again. Nothing moved. She reached toward the tray standing beside the tub, her fingers enclosing around a random selection. Her palm grew sudsy at once.
“Just your imagination,” she whispered, and though she didn’t quite feel alone, she still hoped with everything it was true.
The repeated knock came upon her door as she finished rinsing the travel grime from her hair. Lux climbed from the tub into a puddle of suds and shouted, “Just a moment!”
In a hissed whisper, she added, “You rushing oafs.” He’d told her she’d have an hour. It couldn’t have been already that.
She reached for a towel and wrapped it about her body before noticing the dressing robe hung on a hook. It was ivory and long; when she donned it, it trailed on the floor. She padded to the door.
“Excuse me, but I’m not—”
Kent filled the frame. “Excellent timing, I see. Ms. Thorn, your clothing is ready.”
Lux stared at the bundle in his arms. “Did you even sleep?”
A heavy pause blanketed the air. “No,” he finally said and held the fabrics out to her.
Her fingers enclosed around their lush softness, and her eyes widened over the feel. “What material is this?”
“Why…it’s velvet. A necessity this time of year. Ghadra does not have velvet?”
“Maybe. But not that I’ve ever owned.” She ran her fingertips over the pale red skirt. “I should pay you.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re not the first I’ve made garments for, nor will you be the last. Besides, you will need something to wear for the banquet.”
Her brow furrowed. “Do you often receive guests as ill-prepared as me?”
“Are you ill-prepared?”
“I—” She swallowed at the intensity of his voice, of his eyes watching her from their shadowy recess. Of realizing they might be speaking of more than just attire. “Probably.”
His posture lightened. “There’s a remedy for that, and it comes in stages. Knowing you’re ill-prepared is the first.”
“And the next?”
“Put on the dress.”
“Perfect,” said Lux, full of long-suffering.
“It should be. Find me if it isn’t.”
“I will.”
She wouldn’t.
The collector inclined his head and turned to leave, but Lux interrupted his departure. “I have a question.” He shifted back. “Have you ever been overwhelmed by your brilliance? Or in your years of using it, has it ever felt…changed?”
“In what way do you mean?”
That intense pitch in his voice had returned, and Lux struggled again beneath it. She yearned to be more open, more trusting, and she’d made heaps of progress. But in the end, she couldn’t discount the main reason she’d come here. She certainly couldn’t ignore the replay of his words. What a find…
“Nevermind. I’m running behind.”
“Ah, yes. Lord Corvin is anxious for your arrival no doubt. I won’t keep you two apart.”
She reached to her throat at his words. The way he’d said it… The twitch of his half-hidden mouth… She glowered. “That’s not what this is.”
“What what is?” he replied and chuckled. Gripping the door knob, he gave her his back. “Do come to me with any adjustments.”
Lux stared first at the closed door, then at the bundle of clothing in her arms. She tromped to the bed where she threw the garments atop it and proceeded to select the soft, red dress from amongst the pile.
It appeared almost otherworldly. Like she should put it on and sit in a field of dense, dark blooms and mushrooms.
“How can a man like him make something like this?”
Her fingers strayed down the trailing sleeves before touching the round neckline.
There was no adornment. No delicate stitching or ribbons or frills.
That was fine with her. She’d long ago buried her love of ribbons.
In the center of the room, she shrugged off her dressing robe and pulled the dress on.
A lacing tucked against either side cinched her waist as she tied it.
It felt positively decadent against her skin.
Lux ran to the mirror.
Her hair was damp still and hung limp just beneath her shoulders, but the rest of her looked…
soft. She couldn’t remember ever having worn this color.
She swished to the side to better view her back.
Darting had been added to the base of her spine, accentuating her curves, and she blushed, imagining Shaw’s expression with vivid accuracy.
She must be sure to keep it and wear it upon her return.
If I return, interrupted her head.
Lux’s breath caught as that hollow sensation in her chest returned. It’d been worse last night, as most things were, but she’d been doing better at burying it during the daytime. It was both unexpected and unwanted in how wide it suddenly yawned.
“Who would have guessed you’d grow so sick of being alone so quickly. That used to be all you knew.” Her reflection revealed one eyebrow cocked in accusation until her eyes darted to something of greater interest.
She stepped forward.
The mirror upon the wall had been encased in dark wood, and that wood, she noticed now, had seen the hands of an artist. Lux brushed her fingertips along the carved vines and thorns, but it was only when the pad of her forefinger traced the familiar shape of a letter, that she realized this was similar to the gate outside.
These carvings created words, and those words contained a message.
She leaned back to better view what it said.
May Brilliance Lead You To The Greatest Destination
“May brilliance—” Lux broke off and scoffed. “Literal or a riddle? Hmm, I hate it either way.”
A soft tap interrupted her musings.
“I’ve arrived to escort you to breakfast,” spoke a subdued voice outside the door.
“Damn it all!” Tripping on her skirt, Lux flew to the dressing room, where she pulled on hose and boots and combed her damp hair with her fingers. She caught sight of herself in a looking glass and couldn’t help but laugh.
Let them see the wild-haired girl and her dirty boots and think she’s off to ensnare a frost-eyed collector now.
Imbeciles.