Chapter 35 #2
“My mother sent a box of my father’s old things at the beginning of term. There was a journal, among other things. August stole it from our dormitory before I ever got a chance to read it, thinking it was mine.”
Surprise flared in his eyes.
I continued, “Soon after, Devereaux forced August into a veilbound bargain to prevent him from leaking any information that might stop the blood ritual.” I explained how this also applied to his knowledge about my status as the Heir.
“This being the eve of the ritual, I suppose the window for interference has closed, so to speak.”
“Which is why August was finally able to tell you tonight.” Casimir concluded. “Well, that explains why he wanted you to flee,” he added grimly. “And did you learn the Keeper’s secret?”
I nodded, the secret on the tip of my tongue, when Casimir clapped his hand over my mouth, startling me.
“You can’t tell me,” he warned. “You cannot tell anyone else this secret. Not even your mortal friends. It’s far too dangerous.”
I frowned as he removed his hand from my lips. “But August already knows the secret.”
Casimir’s irises were dark as he met my gaze, but he did not reply. Instead, shook his head and pulled me closer. “Come on, let’s dance.”
I agreed, and we maneuvered through the throng of dancers as the string quartet picked up a wistful tune.
I felt myself drifting, lost in the thrum of the music and trapped in Casimir’s gaze.
My eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly leaned in to press a kiss to my lips.
Still, he seemed unaffected by the potion I’d slipped in his drink.
My arms wound around his neck, drawing him close, trying to make the moment last. He drew back so that he could spin me around once, twice, the lights from the chandeliers blurring in my vision until I was dizzy.
His eyes were liquid chocolate as they gazed into mine.
Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe the potion wasn’t nefarious after all.
Perhaps Evren had just wanted to fuck with me.
With an elegant, fluid movement, he dipped me back, exposing my neck to the ballroom as all around us couples twirled on the dance floor, the melody humming a sensuous rhythm into my bones.
My cheeks were blazing with heat from the frenzy of our dancing, my skin thrumming with need, aching to be alone with him, to feel his touch once more.
Casimir smirked as he dipped me lower, his lips cold as ice as he pressed them against the hollow of my throat.
Several pairs of eyes flashed in our direction, curious to know the identity of this darkly handsome student dropping kisses on Arden Farrow, the scholarship girl, of all people.
My breath hitched, and I knew Casimir heard the gasp escape my lips.
He flicked his tongue over my throat, tasting my sweat and making me shudder.
“You taste sweeter than Daemon wine,” he murmured against my skin, his words slurring together.
Liquor had never affected him much before. Something was wrong. My heart plummeted.
He gazed back at me, glassy-eyed and smiling dazedly. His eyes roved over my dress, over the chainmail clinging to my waist and draped over my bust. All thoughts fled from my mind as his hands slid lower on my hips, drawing me flush against him.
“I never told you why I made that bargain with you in the first place,” he said abruptly, and my mind emptied of all thoughts.
“You didn’t want me to get in the way of your plans to stop the Order,” I replied. “The bargain ensured I wouldn’t.”
“No,” he said. His words, the heat of his breath in my ear, were all that remained. He leaned back to examine my expression.
“I wanted to get to know the girl who was prepared to beat her attacker with a lamp in the middle of the library.”
“You thought I was mad,” I guessed, my lips twitching.
“Partly,” he said, drawing me closer once more. “But it wasn’t just that. You know it wasn’t.”
“And now?” I whispered.
“Now, I don’t ever want to be unbound from you.”
I bit my lip. “Swear you’ll never betray me.”
“Never.”
The promise set my pulse fluttering. It was selfish to ask such a thing of Casimir, to whom I’d already told so many lies—to make him swear never to betray me, knowing I had already betrayed him.
I leaned in to kiss him, but stopped, my breath hitching on a gasp.
His warm bronze skin had faded to a sickly shade of ivory, and a sheen of sweat that had nothing to do with our dancing bloomed across his forehead.
On a hot evening last summer, I’d stumbled across one of Gwen’s books on foraging.
I’d decided to read it with the idea that I might traipse the forest, searching for edible flowers and mushrooms. The text warned that while certain plants appeared harmless, they could induce toxic effects and even lead to death if consumed.
The book also stated that sometimes symptoms of poisoning manifested as a viral illness.
For instance, opium caused weakness and euphoria, whereas Hemlock triggered body tremors and muscular paralysis.
Ingesting Belladonna caused victims’ pupils to dilate, their skin becoming pallid and sweaty.
I saw now that his eyes were glazed over, the amber soft and unfocused, like the surface of a glassy pond, his pupils blown wide. Oh gods. What had I done?
Horror sucked the air from my lungs. It wasn’t a trick; the vial had been poisoned.
I’d poisoned him.
To think that of all the people who’d wished him harm, I had been the one to offer him the poisoned chalice.
His lips were a pale blue, his eyes dazed and unfocused.
He swayed where he stood. Terror spiked through my veins, making my breaths come in rapid pants as I wracked my brain for a solution. Fuck. This was very bad.
“Casimir,” I said, careful to keep the panic from bleeding into my voice so as not to alarm him, “we need to go. I think you’ve been poisoned.”
I poisoned you.
I tugged at his arm, but he remained immovable.
“What? Why?” he whined, yanking his arm back so hard that I nearly fell against his chest. “I want to keep dancing.”
Feeling as though I were negotiating with a petulant toddler, I said, “I promise we can dance more later. But right now we need to get you some water, okay?”
With the promise of more dancing, Casimir allowed me to drag him off the dance floor into a secluded corner so that I could figure out what to do. I racked my brain for everything I’d read about poisons.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” he groaned.
Another passage from Gwen’s foraging text swirled across my consciousness.
“In the early stages of poisoning, some fungi, such as false morels and death caps, may trigger nausea and uncontrollable retching.”
I wished I knew what he’d ingested. Depending on the poison, retching would either alleviate his nausea or destroy his stomach lining.
Casimir was displaying an array of symptoms that could apply to any number of poisons, from arsenic to aconite.
But I didn’t need to be an expert on poisons to know what obvious next step was: seek medical attention as soon as possible.
When I’d been poisoned with Daemon wine at Bryce’s party, Casimir had brewed and dispensed a powerful antidote.
But, I rationalized, even if I could identify the nature of the poison Evren had used, I had no way of procuring an antidote.
Therefore, my only option was to find Evren and force him to give me the antidote.
And every second we delayed, Casimir was getting worse. Panic licked a path up my spine.
A small bubble appeared between Casimir’s pale blue lips, and he groaned.
“Are you in pain?” I asked frantically.
“I just want… to lie down…” I caught him as he stumbled forward, staggering under his weight. He leaned against my shoulder, murmuring apologies, his eyes fluttering closed.
Up close, I saw just how pale he looked. Shit. I couldn’t lose my head, not now, when Casimir was so vulnerable. Frantically, I leaned over him as he sank back against the wall. “Casimir.” I roused him with a shake of his shoulders.
He gazed up at me and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “You… so beautiful—”
“Casimir, listen to me,” I urged. “You’ve been poisoned. We need to get out of here.”
The cacophony of laughter, the smell of booze and sweat, and the screeching of instruments had suddenly become unbearable.
“Have I?” he asked dazedly, a giggle escaping his bluish lips. “Well, I did say you’d be the death of me.” He choked on a hiccup. “And here we are…” With a hiss of pain, he fell silent, his eyelids fluttering.
It dawned on me with increasing dread that poisoning Casimir had likely been part of Evren’s plan from the very beginning.
He’d known I had too much pride to reveal this aspect of our bargain to Casimir.
Knew Casimir would trust me enough to drink anything I put into his hands.
In one move, he had ensured my betrayal and Casimir’s compliance.
The result was Casimir’s demise at my hands.
Knowing Casimir could die had shattered my resolve and broken through the floodgates that guarded my black heart.
There was no longer any reason to pretend or deny it any longer.
Every surreptitious touch, every stolen glance and word that had passed between us, every lie I’d told myself, every denial and curse belied every other possibility but one.
His name may as well have been carved into my bones for how irrevocably he was etched across my soul.
I was in love with the Darkseer. And I would do whatever it took to save him.